Bold Street was once one of Liverpool’s eclectic shopping streets, where independent retailers with a creative spirit thrived. Now, those independent outlets have been drowned out by an avalanche of expensive bars and chain cafés, most with outside seating that takes up large areas of pedestrian walking space.
Streets evolve, of course, but the issue is not whether shop units are full, it’s what replaces long-standing independents, and how that changes the street’s role in civic and cultural life. A full street isn’t automatically a healthy street if the mix of uses narrows and public space becomes more privatised.
One of the casualties of this shift was Rennies Arts & Crafts, which traded on Bold Street for 42 years before closing. Its departure was described on Facebook as a “huge wrench”, a sentiment shared by many who valued the knowledge, artistry and sense of place that such businesses brought. While a few independents, like the radical bookshop News from Nowhere, still survive, they are increasingly surrounded by drink-led businesses charging inflated prices for pints.
Supporters of the changes point to the street’s current bustle and cosmopolitan food scene as proof of success. Or that independents can simply move elsewhere, to side streets or cheaper areas. But a street can be bustling and still lose cultural variety. And while relocation might keep them alive, it strips them of the visibility and civic presence they had in the city centre.
This transformation has prompted considerable debate, with news articles and social media posts questioning whether Bold Street is reinventing itself or simply succumbing to corporate homogeneity. For many, the answer seems to be the latter. This concern is not simple nostalgia, but about the erosion of the unique character, local knowledge and artistry that independent businesses like Rennies provided.
Plans to breathe new life into the area seem to have been ignored. One online forum comment suggested that the potential of Bold Street is being wasted, and called for pedestrianisation, public seating, art installations and tree-lined thoroughfares to be established in it; and expressed frustration regarding the licences issued by the council, which reportedly enable an “army” of street charity collectors to harass passersby.
Meanwhile, the prominent Lyceum building, originally built in 1802 as England’s first subscription library, is symbolic of this lost ambition. It was once a respected public space, but now houses a restaurant offshoot and a mini-golf-bar hybrid, showing no signs of genuine mixed-use or civic engagement.
Liverpool has shown in other places (from its markets to its creative districts) that economic vitality and cultural richness can co-exist. Bold Street could embody that balance again, if planning and licensing decisions made space for more than just the most profitable retailers.
Bold Street now stands at a crossroads in its long and respected history. It is no longer the thriving, imaginative place it once was, yet it still clings to remnants of its past. The shift from independent enterprise to corporate hospitality has blunted its creative edge, replacing character with commercial blandness. Unless the city takes meaningful steps to prioritise cultural preservation, public space and genuine community use, Bold Street risks becoming just another generic high street.
