An Alternative 'Guide' to Watford High Street. (From Watford Observer)

An Alternative 'Guide' to Watford High Street.

5:00pm Tuesday 19th May 2009 in News By Liam McGuigan

‘Croydon? Watford? I dunno somewhere bleak anyway.’ The Thick of It.

Financial collapse, global warming, politicians pocketing a hundred billion pounds for swimming pool leaks; look at it from any angle you want and life in 2009 soon starts to feel like one hefty misery after another. Yet today I want to make a rallying cry for this beleaguered town of ours; too often you see it called the ‘binge drinking capital of Hertfordshire’ or many other things too lurid to put to print, as if anyone crazy enough to live here is a cross between Father Jack and the cast of Deliverance.

Yes it has its flaws but in spite of what the naysayers and the boo-hooers might tell you, I am going to devote this piece to what makes Watford the town it is – so here’s to the oddities, the ‘grot’ in Watford that you would be hard pressed to find anywhere else.

Consider this: if an alien invasion began, right here, right now in the centre of Watford, what would they find? Arguably the most confused and jumbled assortment of architecture you’re ever likely to find in one place. Take these fancy little numbers in the High Street.

I mean what exactly is this piece near Baraka and Situls? Answers on a stamped adressed envelope, please. What it is doing at the top of the High Street I do not have the faintest idea, but all I can say is that this Star Trek hatstand has been there since time immemorial and has never stopped confusing me. The hornet statue next to the McDonald’s further down the street I can understand. Even if it is a meeting point for ruffians and reprobates, it is still the unofficial logo for Watford F.C. and has some local relevance, but this? I suppose it looks like a hornet, if you squint, and you’re blind drunk.

The same goes for this piece of…well…what exactly ,at the top of the High Street? All I know is that it appeared in an episode of Peep Show once as location footage, but apart from that even the post-box is forced to turn it’s gaze away from something so mind-boggling and perplexing. Nevermind the alien invasion, at this rate they would just go home completely confused by human creativity.

The final piece in this triumvirate of tat is this double-headed duo entitled ‘Watford Millenium’, located just opposite BHS. To be honest there is not a lot negative to say about this one; it stands out well, does not look particularly gaudy and generally adds to the surrounding environment. There is, however, one criticism I have to make of the piece and that is this: whoever designed this must have had little to no idea of what exactly the ‘faces’ of Watford are.

Here’s my suggestion; if it were up to me it would still be one male and one female, but put some make-up on the woman’s face, make the male one a twentysomething in all their brylcreeme’d idiocy and then have each of the faces as you leave the High Street looking half dazed, hair strewn and dribbling bits of half-eaten kebab and cheesy chips. Voila, I give you ‘Watford at Night: A Before and After Piece’. At least it would look more like someone you would really see on the High Street.

This leads me to the final part on the quirks of Watford: the revered and reputable nightlife. Having been there more times than I care or try to remember you soon come to see the grizzly innards of the town for what it’s worth. To cut a long story short, if you fancy feeling really out-of-touch and ancient (which, at the age of twenty-one, I cannot say is an incredibly brilliant experience) whilst having your car attacked by an explosion of flyers and leaflets, it is the place to be. How ironic that the Ring Road crosses over the High Street where it does: they should switch the crests of the twin towns at night for a banner reading ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER for anyone who dares to cross underneath it of an evening.

I could go on about other things, like the pyramid near Watford High Street Station, with its own Egyptian curse so bad it must have had a dozen companies there in a dozen years. Or the big green building by Rickmansworth Road, which was greeted with a hail of stones and smashed windows at one point, but these are different stories for a different day. Yet moan all you like about this town of ours, but I challenge you to find somewhere with such a combination of gaudy statues and bulky buildings, where you can shop by day and dance to Eighties music on a revolving dancefloor by night. Bizarre it may be, but ‘bleak’ it is not.