Forget the soft-glow candles and bougie wax blobs. Real Londoners know the true glow gods are buzzing tubes of light. Big, bold, and louder than a dodgy escalator, neon is back, and it’s got serious glow about it. From Soho’s still-gasping red-light glow to Brick Lane’s glow-up corners, neon signs are London’s passive-aggressive wallpaper. They mock, buzz cheekily, and sometimes flicker mid-sentence—but that’s exactly the point.

Come on: this city’s grey. It drizzles emotional damage. Half the buildings look like they were drawn in a rush. So when a in-your-face pink sign says "Keep Serving Looks" from inside a café you weren’t cool enough to know existed, it hits different. It’s vibes. And no, it’s not just for your Story highlight called "Vibes". Neon in London has a legendary glow-up, mate. God’s Own Junkyard in Walthamstow?

An eyeball massage. If you haven’t been—sort it out. Bring a backup pair of eyeballs. And maybe a second pair, just in case. Neon is the people’s light show. Pubs, estate agents, even florists are getting in on the action. Pop up a glowing "You’re Home-ish" and suddenly your flat viewing feels like a music video with mould. And the phrases—oh the affirmations. "Treat Yo Self." It’s like being mocked lovingly by a motivational lava lamp. Of course. But also weirdly inspiring.

Neon signs in London aren’t just bits of buzzing plastic. They’re part existential meltdown, part therapy, and fully proof we’ve all lost the plot a bit. They say: "Yes, the rent’s a joke, the bins are overflowing, and the air smells of vape and regret—but look at this glowing pink banana. Now go vibe." So next time one catches your eye—probably in a pub loo whispering "You Got This" as you reevaluate your last five decisions—just accept it.

The sign believes in you. Even if it’s buzzing like a wasp.

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