“I’m in love with my friend and I’m not sorry.” “Join a union.” “Dogs should be able to vote.” “ABORTION RIGHTS.” “Don’t trust midwest emo men!” These are all scribbles in the ladies’ toilets of the Rutland Arms, a traditional yellow-bricked pub in Sheffield city centre. It’s a proper boozer, reliable and warm, where grey-haired locals mingle with blue-haired students, and the cheapest pint costs £3.30.
Like in so many pubs across the country, its toilet cubicles are completely covered – doors, walls, ceiling – in graffiti. Sprawling proclamations of women’s empowerment overlap with confessions about self-harm. It’s a web of cryptic interactions, as comforting and charming as it is sinister and ghostly. The male loos are equally covered: soul-searching utterances alongside indiscernible scrawls in every colour of the rainbow.
