Are House Parties a Thing of the Past?
FLO GRAHAM describes her experience of the decline of house parties and argues for their return
For many of my teen years, house parties were key to an enjoyable weekend. Friday and Saturday nights out on the piss only really began after ordering a ‘drinks drop’ to a random house – urging the delivery driver to let us jump in the back to save on taxi money.
What pleasure to spend evenings with friends and strangers of all ages, talking and smoking in the kitchen, crammed into a three-piece suite playing drinking games, group adventures to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet bowl, to lie in the bath and deep chat our problems away. Such fond memories of cheap nights out where we had each other’s backs.
Since then, I’ve noticed a decline in these parties; understandable through the Covid years, but why have they not restarted? My personal hermitisation might have meant a lack of invitations, but having heard friends discuss the death of weekly house parties around pub tables, I’m assuming they’re in danger of extinction.
I can’t help feeling that anxiety about the precarious state of our living situation has made the renter uncomfortable about inviting people over. When I first started renting, it was possible to afford a one-bed flat, OK somewhat scuzzy and pokey, for less than £500 a month. Now, with rents what they are, more people are relying on the London-esque ‘room rental’ which might deter any but the most civilised of invitations.
With properties being transformed into holiday lets – cozycozy.com claim there are 800+ in the Hastings area, coupled with another 800+ long term empty properties (rushwittwilson.co.uk) – it’s no wonder that snagging a comfortable, affordable rental property is becoming a pipe dream.
Back in 2017, there was a ready supply of cheap(ish) flats in crappy, though liveable, condition. I didn’t feel anxious about adding another stain to a carpet that already resembled the hide of a Holstein cow; having people over didn’t pose a risk that might lose me my deposit – which currently equates to nearly a month’s income for most. Now, with the antisocial behaviour evictions, rising rents and stagnant wages, fear about stable accommodation is on the rise. Places like Hastings Old Town used to have all sorts of flats for rent, perfect for those who didn’t mind the noise from pub-goers. I’d spend many evenings with friends in properties along the George Street stretch. One of those very properties where I famously expelled tequila shots through my nose can now be booked for £215 a night via Airbnb.
So what does this mean for the next generation? There were plenty of firsts that happened at house parties, and I am grateful for having a safe(ish) environment in which to experiment at the time; there seemed to be more mutual understanding of looking out for one another that I can’t envisage in more upmarket affairs. If you were too far gone, there were familiar people to take care of you, if someone was behaving aggressively, there was an allyship that enforced expulsion. Out and about in commercial venues, there seems more danger from antisocial behaviour, with management turning a blind eye when it happens.
Perhaps the answer is a community response, an anarchistic participation in the creation of a new-wave party scene: organising house parties in Airbnbs and bringing back to this mad-as-a-hatter town the debauched beauty of what it used to have.
Viva la house party!
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