The Shambles’ reputation extends far beyond York’s walls. In our modern age, it has everything a good historical attraction should: Instagramable aesthetic value, plenty of shops centring on a specific overpriced gimmick, and a whole host of popular stories about it which are, for the most part, entirely fabricated. I’d hate to sound too cynical – I’ve visited York regularly all my life and have been captivated by the Shambles’ haphazard rooftops since I was a child. As an archaeology student, I’ve studied the architecture and history of the street. Undeniably, it is a fascinating historical attraction. It was first mentioned in the Doomsday Book, and houses from the 14th century are still standing above the cobbles. My personal favourite part of its history is the shrine to St. Margaret Clitherow, which I stumbled across once aged ten and couldn’t find it again for several years. However, I’ve also had the (mis)fortune to work on the street during York’s busiest time of year. After spending 20 hours a week hearing “Harry Potter was filmed here!” once every five minutes (entirely untrue) and seeing people almost suffocate in the ceaseless crowds, I’d say a seemingly cynical point of view is simply realism.
In my three months working at the York Ghost Merchants, I had a full array of odd experiences. The thing about standing outside the most popular shop in York dressed like a modern approximation of a Victorian craftsman is that everyone wandering past wants to stop to ask you a question, regardless of whether they’re interested in your shop or not. One particularly memorable man felt the need to pass on to me that the Shambles used to be a butcher’s street (which I’ve known since I was about eight) with the most ominous language that he could. Of all the things I’ve ever been told on shift, “These streets used to run with blood” is definitely up there on the list of the weirdest. I’m not entirely certain he knew anything about the Ghost Merchants, or even which Shambles retailer I worked at, merely that it was another one of the TikTok trends obscuring the actual history of the street. Of course, he had to tell me this in the most condescending tone imaginable, as if by being under the age of 30 I obviously only knew how to stare at my phone and parrot misinformation. I certainly don’t endorse going up to young people earnestly doing their jobs and indirectly calling them and their entire generation stupid and shallow. However, his comment was, unfortunately, one of the only factually accurate remarks I received in my time working there.
I remember the opening of the first Harry Potter shop on the Shambles; it happily coincided with my infatuation with the series. I queued up at nine in the morning to get in, because that’s the sort of thing you’re willing to do when you’re 12 and obsessed with something. I’ve since lost my childhood appreciation of the shop, for reasons that exceed a waning interest in the novels. Commercialisation has swallowed the street whole. I don’t believe in striving for a perfect perseveration of the past – conservation is a balance. However, entirely fabricating facts about a historical site in order to sell more overpriced merchandise is a pitiful representation of what our society has come to. Surely this can’t have so many people caught hook line and sinker? And yet, from everything I’ve seen, it does.
At risk of sounding like a grumpy old man muttering in a rocking chair, tourism has become entirely about appearances and money. Take a picture, buy a product and go on your merry way. The street used to be full of unique, fascinating independent businesses, more and more seem to simply disappear as each day passes. There is still very much a sense of community for those working on the street, and various interesting independent shops that remain standing. But locals don’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. What is there for them aside from unbearable crowds and overpriced stores?
I’ll be the first in line to defend the Ghost Merchants as a genuinely fun and intriguing store with good intentions; their business really does uphold traditional craftsmanship, and they definitely foster creativity. ‘Ghost Week’ is a fun tradition with all sorts of fun spooky themed activities from a “spook-easy” murder mystery party to the original ghost hunt (once run by Visit York) which the whole week evolved from. I have a very cute clay ghost I found on a snickleway next to the Shambles from the first time they ever ran it. It’s an event that really does encourage the things that used to characterise the Shambles.
However, while the TikTok popularity of the shop is beyond their control, it inevitably draws in tourists with superficial desires. My favourite part about my job at the Ghost Merchants was talking to all the visitors and hearing stories from people all over the world. I personally don’t feel strongly enough about ornamental ghosts to queue for three hours to buy one, but I met people who genuinely do. I also met people who just came along because that’s the thing to do while in York. They didn’t really care about the ghosts, they just wanted to take a picture in the shop and tick it off their list of experiences. I’m not entirely convinced that they were even experiencing them so much as performing a hit and run on each page of the guidebook.
Sadly, this isn’t a problem limited to the Shambles so much as centralised there. The complexities of tourism in York could be discussed for days on end. For now, I can only hope that the Shambles will one day be free of its consumerist shackles.
