They’re on TikTok, they’re trying to order an oat flat white in your local caff and they’re thrifty – in an ethical or ethically adjacent way. Behind the bouncing barber shops and open aired fish shops on Rye Lane, housed among overpriced terraced rental properties, locals can expect to see the Peckham carboot take over Harris Academy’s carpark fortnightly, leaving a hoop earring or two behind as they disperse at 2pm-ish every second Sunday of the month. Snatch spoke to Peckham carboot founders Erin Murphy and Steven Lopes about how Peckham carboot’s initial bedlam disguises friendships that have been made over countless Sundays spent bonding in attempts to flog royal family anniversary memorabilia or chipped plates that fell out of circulation in the 1950s.
The Peckham carboot has become famous on TikTok, garnering 67.5K likes on their account @peckham.carboot, attracting a hoard of influencers including Bella Nelson with her 20K followers to come and try their luck punting old garms. TikTokers are often housed alongside mums clearing out their old summer wardrobes, or dedicated carbooters who’ve possibly brought one too many bits of WWII paraphernalia for the largely Gen Z crowd circulating the carboot.
The staple Sunday tradition was brought over in the 1970s from Canada by the Priest Father Clarke, but now carboots are more Ragged Priest than godly priest. On entering the carboot, it might feel like stepping foot in a school yard on the last day of term, with its chaotic set up of half hungover 20-year-olds, who congregate in a queue, almost falling off the curb as they raid their vintage Fendi baguettes for a quid to pay their late entry fee. The clientele often appear as if they’re wearing last night’s clothes and 24-hour wear MAC kohl eyeliner that they’ve made a half-arsed attempt to wipe off. One first-time Peckham carbooter referred to the average attendee as a “Peckham edgy person who’s in their early twenties and just graduated from fashion school.”
To the uninitiated – those untethered by a stall and its complicit social life – it might seem intimidating to mingle and blend into the sea of faux fur and zebra print bags, but Murphy and her partner Lopes promise that the scene is a welcoming one.
Murphy, owner of the popular Shoreditch vintage shop Attagirl, and Lopes, who often mans the door at the carboot, found a gap in the market: “We used to travel to different areas of London or out of town just to go to carboots.” Now, the Peckham carboot is a melting pot of of vendors and shoppers – from teenagers to pensioners – giving the impression of a long-established tradition. “Lots of vendors buy from each other, there’s a massive community feel, we all help each other out,” says Murphy.
The pair explain that the carboot’s success wasn’t instant: “We had to persevere, the first three before the pandemic were only advertised through word of mouth –they were a flop.” But through TikTok and the general influx of “young trendy eclectic people in Peckham,” says Erin, the carboot has become more than a means for London’s young northern ex-pats to make a quick buck.
Although Snatch came across a child’s aged 12 Gap hoodie that had been priced at £15 by its carbooter – who had forgotten to take off its original £3 Shelter price tag – the founders reject the “stick” they get for carboot items being overpriced. Murphy says, “We don’t set the prices – it’s a carboot, and it’s supposed to be a cheap affair where you can sell lots of things, have a spring clean and make room to buy new things.” The couple explain that anyone can reserve a spot on their website to be a vendor, as a means to ensure the carboot remains accessible to the whole community.
Regardless of Peckham carboot’s initial Y2K appearance, it is an enterprise built on the same fundamental bartering, banter, and Britishness that embodies the traditional carboot.
Murphy says that after the carboot they’ll all head down to the Grove House Tavern in neighbouring Camberwell for a Sunday roast – proving that despite its initial glamour, Peckham isn’t quite so far removed from village sales that breed a camaraderie amongst buyers and sellers, all searching for a bargain.
Vibe Check
Clothing genre: Common sightings at the carboot that might make you feel like you’re in an episode of Daisy Jones & The Six include faux fur jackets, yellow lensed sunnies and cheetah print, um, anything?
Price range: Depends if you’re in a bargaining mood, and frankly willing to risk pissing off a carbooter – as Erin and Steven say, barter but don’t be unreasonable.
Writers favourite item: The blue hat and matching sunglasses worn by the Frenchie.
Pictures: Eve Erskine
Designs: Pius Bentgens