Alex has never hosted a house party in London. She’s 26, moved to the capital three years ago, and says her flat is “too tiny” to ever be suitable for hosting. It’s not just her. Despite going out regularly in 2021 and 2022, Alex’s party destinations were rarely homes. She can remember the last house party she went to — it was in October 2023, for Halloween. “Since then the amount I go out in general has gone down massively due to the cost of living,” she says, “so now I only go out maybe once a month or every two months.”
These days, it feels as if the cost of clubbing crisis causes a party angel to lose their wings every 15 seconds in the capital. Alex says she’d “definitely” go out more if her friends hosted more house parties, but they just don’t. She reckons this is due to a mix of problems: limited space, living apart from mates, and neighbours. Unlike university, young people in London are just as likely to live next to an elderly couple or wailing baby as they are a fellow young person. “Babies and families,” Alex says. “I live in an apartment building where there are lots of married couples.”
Living wall to wall with strangers has always been the case in London, but the renting crisis has meant that people cling onto their housing situations — and their deposits — with a far tighter grasp than they did before. Emily, aged 22, agrees: “You don't want to risk your neighbours contacting your landlord and telling you off because before you'd just be told to keep it down, but now there are so many more people desperate to rent — and willing to pay more than asking price — so landlords can just chuck you and get a better tenant,” she says.
Since moving to London in 2022, Emily says she’s been to “maybe four house parties.” Like Alex, Emily cites neighbours and Spareroom households as the main hurdle. “I think neighbours is the main thing,” she says, “and some people it’ll be because they rent with strangers who they might not get on with so much.”
The death of the house party has not gone unnoticed. Stormzy recently tried to revive them, opening a new multi-room bar in Soho styled around a traditional family home which is simply called “House Party.” But since the starry launch event with Maya Jama, Ian Wright, Big Zuu and big Michael himself in attendance, we’ve heard neither hide nor hair of the place.
And the kids miss them. Clips from the film Project X, which chronicles a high school house party that gets out of hand, routinely go viral on TikTok, with up to 4.9 million views on individual videos. “Major fomo,” reads one comment. “How do we get into these parties (asking for a friend of course),” says another.
Losing out on the magic of house parties is more than just a cost issue. In clubs, there’s less space carved out for socialising. Compared to house parties, its harder to talk or make lasting connections, and having a cheeky shag in one of the spare rooms goes from funny to illegal. This could be part of the reason that young people find it so hard to meet someone the “analogue” way in 2024, turning instead to social media and impersonal dating apps.
Nick Dann, a project manager at events company We Are The Fair who has been running his own parties and events since university, says it’s all a part of the “commoditisation” of hanging out with friends. “So much of the decisions people make are centred around social capital,” he says. “You see it with big clubs like Drumsheds, with f**k-off LED walls and stacked lineups, expensive artists. Everyone wants to show people they’ve gone somewhere [...] People want to go out and get their Instagram pics and videos, but also experience new things.”
In comparison, Dann says a house party feels a lot less stimulating. “Unless someone’s put time and effort into the space, there’s just not demand for it,” he says. “The drive to socialise has changed. People want to be in new, stimulating spaces and house parties don’t have that.”
Ultimately, he blames landlords for the death of the house party. “I do think the equation for a good night is: good space, good people, good music and landlords have taken away like the domestic space. Most of us live in sandwich boxes and it doesn't really lend itself to house parties.”
But a preference for Going Out Out can only last so long while the cost of living crisis persists. And it’s not exactly like the club scene is thriving. According to the Night Time Industries Association, the UK is losing one club every two days. At this rate there will be no clubs left by 2030. And the number of pubs closing has shot up too. A devastating 80 pubs a month called last orders in the first quarter of 2024, up 51 per cent from the first quarter of 2023.
“I do think house parties will come back,” says Dann, “the social drive will revert to wanting to hang with people.” He even notes the recent response to astronomic ticket prices for events, saying: “I hope people will start thinking ‘you know what, f**k that, I’m not spending £50 on a ticket, I’m just going to do something smaller with my friends.’” Until then, prepare for a house party drought. Or maybe you can throw one for its funeral.
