Having recently relocated to Coventry, one recent Saturday I made my way into town to have a look round. After negotiating my way through the maze of depressingly dark ugly streets, housing hoards of miserable greasy looking foul mouthed occupants, I arrived at the car park. I was greeted by a particuarly chavvy looking girl with a tracksuit-clad ridiculous looking boyfriend, who informed me that I should ‘watch where I was fuckin’ goin’ or I’d get my fuckin’ head smashed in’ (they were purposefully driving their lowered bright green old battered Golf the wrong way down a one way section of the car park). Amused, I ventured into the city centre where it seemed that the chavs had been breeding! Coventry seems to have embraced chav culture, and offers an array of shops selling chav attire – from cheap plastic knee-highs to Henry Lloyd stripy jumpers and wide selections of 9ct gold hoops/sovereigns.
At night, the Coventry experience is one not to be missed. Overwight, over made up bleached blondes wearing skimpy, cheap white skirts with pink tops linger in groups – competing for the attention of loud scummy looking groups of males, whose only attempt at conversation seems to be ‘where you goin’ lata’. Joy. I’d definatly recommend though if you need a good laugh.