an interview with peckham car boot

a chat with london's favourite sunday pastime

To the uninitiated, car boot sales are less of a treasure hunt and more of an endurance test: a suburban field at dawn, weak tea in a polystyrene cup, and the divisive scent of a damp British morning. Traditionally, such affairs have been the realm of practical bargain hunters and early risers, certainly not the stomping ground of the city’s most stylish. Peckham Car Boot, on the other hand, has upended convention.

A car boot sale is, at its core, precisely what it claims to be — a congregation of sellers, boots flung open, dealing in objets d’art that toe the line between the exquisite and the absurd. It is here that one might find, with equal likelihood, a pristine Ossie Clark dress or a deeply suspect set of garden gnomes, but as Jas, the market’s ever-discerning supervisor, is quick to point out, not all car boots are created equal. “Peckham has cool factor,” she explains. “There’s a popular one in the city I grew up in, but if I told people I worked there, it wouldn’t warrant the same reaction.”

What began as a modest endeavour half a decade ago has since evolved into a weekly pilgrimage for Londoners in the know. Every Sunday, Peckham plays host to a discerning crowd of stylists, students, and veteran vintage dealers, all vying for a chance to unearth the sort of designer rarities that seldom see the light of day. “Erin grew up going to car boots — her parents resold furniture and house fittings,” says Jas. “It started because Erin and Steven had lived in and around Peckham for 15 years. They saw a gap in the market.”

With the pandemic years necessitating reinvention, sales moved online and Instagram stepped in as an unlikely showroom. By the time restrictions lifted, the appetite for the real thing had reached an all-time high, and a second playground was added to accommodate the ever-growing crowds.

Their success is, in part, due to the car boot’s locale. “It’s right in the middle of South East London and close to art colleges like Goldsmiths and Camberwell,” Jas explains. “Peckham has a trading reputation from shows like Only Fools and Horses and is one of the more affordable places to live in London, so it naturally attracts a younger crowd, but we push back on the idea that it’s a young car boot. Many of our regulars are middle-aged or older.”

Within those ranks are the sorts of characters that make Peckham Car Boot the institution it has become. “There’s Leslie, Frank Akincetti — he’s a stylist with a shop on Portobello Road called Sold Out — and Felix. They come every time,” Jas tells me. “There are older locals like Esther, Barbara, and John. A lot of them are unaccustomed to the internet so we let them show up and pay at the door. Lucy, for instance, doesn’t know how the internet works. I call her, pick her up, and help her set up.”

Peckham Car Boot’s popularity has necessitated expansion but scaling hasn’t been straightforward. “We’ve been going for six years and are only just opening another one,” Jas says, referring to their forthcoming site in Balham. “The main barrier is finding schools with the space and facilities for it. In London, schools are smaller, and the roads make it tricky with traffic. We want to keep it community-focused and not expand too quickly. It’s about finding the right locations and people to manage them.”

Beyond the bartering, Peckham Car Boot is, at its core, an asset to its host. “We work with Aylesham Community Action and support causes like Peckham Soup Kitchen,” Jas says. “It’s about reminding people that while it’s fun to grab a bargain, we will always be part of the local community.”

For those preparing to make their first foray into this hallowed ground, Jas has a few pearls of wisdom. “Cash is non-negotiable. People always forget it, and it helps no one. Bring small change — it’s essential.” Then, of course, there is the matter of logistics. “Bring a bag. Some people arrive with suitcases, IKEA bags, even laundry baskets — you never know how much you’ll find.” And finally, patience is everything. “Take your time, don’t rush. Look at every stand. I always start at the second playground and work backwards because most visitors make a beeline for the walk-in sellers first.”

Peckham Car Boot may still masquerade as an insider’s secret, but its days of quiet anonymity are drawing to a close. With queues snaking ever longer and the impending launch of a Balham outpost, its reputation only continues to swell. For now, though, its original home remains the jewel in its crown — a place where a once-humble British pastime is an affair worth rising for.