SO MANY SANTAS

By Alex

I'm not sure what it is about wacky, mass participation things that makes me feel so uncomfortable. I asked a friend who has a GCSE in psychology and he told me, "You like to make fun of these things because you're afraid to truly let yourself go and take part. It's kind of sad really." So, to try and overcome these fears and grow as a person, I took part in Santa Con, an international flash-mob style event where participants dress in Santa costumes and take part in various public shenanigans.

Just kidding, I went along (NOT in Santa costume) and stood, alone on the sidelines, silently judging people. Like a lion with a superiority complex and a camera.

The route was top secret, all I knew is that the assembly point was the Wetherspoons by the canal in Camden. Some people had decided the classic Santa look was not kerazy enough for them and decided to add their own spin on things:

"Eastern European superhero" Santa.

"Desperately clutching at straws to make this thing more Camden" Santa.

"It's like, I'm a pimp, and I'm saying 'hoe, hoe, hoe'. Get it? What? Then how do you spell it?" Santa.

"Here to plug some shitty website, but the author of this blog has blurred out the URL, so it was really just a big waste of time" Santa.

Someone went up to this guy and said "Oh my god! Ghetto Santa! I love it!", to which he responded "Actually, I'm just a black guy dressed as Santa."

Ho! Ho!....

Ho!

As with any thing that has the word "shenanigans" in the description, there was a fairly large crusty turn out. Including one guy who gave me a festive hug as an excuse to try and steal my iPod.

After standing around outside the Wetherspoons for a couple of hours being pleased with themselves, the Santas started to chant “Santa has to go! Santa has to go!” and took off across the bridge.

After heading through Camden market. We arrived at (my favourite shop on earth) Cyberdog.

This is the door staff at Cyberdog not letting 500 people dressed as Santa in. Spoil sports. This guy was saying “How would you like it if I turned up with hundreds of people at your house and demanded to be let in? You wouldn’t, would you?” I don’t think that’s the same thing.

I AM YOUR FATHER (Christmas).

Not letting the rejection bring them down, the Santas took off down Camden High Street toward the next, super secret destination.

Which turned out to be The World’s End pub.

Four hundred Santas, no barstaff.

I tried to Q+A some people to find out why they were there, but EVERY SINGLE PERSON I spoke to answered in character. Which was pretty amazing in the case of this guy, his brain almost exploded while trying to work out how a Jar Jar Binks Santa would talk.

Eugh, what is it about this kind of thing that bring out the 'free hugs' guys?

After ANOTHER HOUR of standing around outside a pub, the Santas took off again.

This time towards Mornington Crescent Station.

After getting off the train at Embankment, we started heading towards our next super secret destination of festive chaos...

...ANOTHER FUCKING PUB. Eugh. By this point, it had been like, four or five hours, so I decided to go do some Christmas shopping.

On the way home, I stumbled upon the Santas again. This time they were in Trafalgar Square, which seemed to be their final destination. I hung around for 30 minutes or so waiting for something to happen.