Art gallery gift shops: ranked!

Call me a philistine, but sometimes when I go to a gallery, I have to resist with every fibre of my being from making a beeline for the gift shop. “I’m here for the art! I swear, Your Honour!” What can I say, I just love capitalism, man. It’s not my fault that all (four) of my brain cells have been programmed to make my heart go pitter-patter with the excitement of that fleeting but good-good hit of dopamine, induced by a purchase of a pointless but nonetheless awe-inspiring fridge magnet or water bottle.

And they know what they’re doing, those pesky galleries and museums. They strategically place them right by the entrance (or exit, or both). I’m a victim of society; a slave to the system.

So, I’ve compiled the ultimate guide to London’s art gallery gift shops, whether you’re in the market for a trendy tote to show everyone on the Tube that you’re cultured, or need some inspo for the looming, glooming Valentines Day, Plaster has got you covered.

The Photographers’ gallery 

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: **

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: ****

Ambience and vibes: ****

The Photographers’ Gallery is just around the corner from Plaster HQ in Soho. The downstairs gift shop has been there for me when no one else was (when I’ve needed to buy last minute film for a shoot). Not only that, but they have a range of artist zines, like Athen and Nina’s Hopelessly Devoted, and photography books that would look 10/10 on the aspirational mid-century modern coffee table that I one day hope to own. A girl can dream! The vibes are always good, and the place also serves functions well beyond shopping . For example, I like to performatively inspect the 35mm film shelves in the desperate that a photography bro with a tiny beanie and a bushy beard might chat me up. With the dire state of dating apps and the so-called ‘relationship recession’, we must do as Bear Grylls does: “adapt, survive, and overcome”.

Studio Voltaire

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: *

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: *****

Ambience and vibes: ****

As a resident of Lewisham, I’m always supportive of some South London representation. Studio Voltaire is a perfect example. Its tagline is “essentials and non-essentials of extraordinary quality”, I concur. House of Voltaire is their gift shop, but it’s certainly a cut  above your average Joe of gallery stores. You can really shop till you drop here (or at least until your overdraft limit maxes out) with a lineup of exclusive artist editions and specially commissioned objects you never thought you needed,  – like this glow in the dark lighter by Emily Pope. Let’s just hope no one pockets it. I also copped this steamy Tom of Finland sticker for my ever-growing collection adorning my laptop – just another one of many forms of self-expression that comes particularly in handy on a main-character-coffee-shop-pretending-to-do-admin day.

South London Gallery 

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: **

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: ****

Ambience and vibes: ***

The South London Gallery was closed for installation when I went, but luckily, the shop and cafe were still open for bizz. Ka-ching! I had my mind set on one book, and one book only: JB’s ‘Ways of Seeing’ (that’s John Berger, not Justin Bieber). I’ve heard it’s a classic and if there was anywhere that would stock it, surely SLG would be the place. I clambered along the bookshelves, desperately searching for a flash of John’s kind eyes. I was awash with disappointment to hear the words that no HOA (History of Art) girlie ever wants to hear. “Not in stock”’, chimed the shop assistant. Ah well, at least I can watch the telly version – that’s always better anyway. Lack of JB aside, South London Gallery had impeccable vibes, complete with a disco ball and a JBL speaker blasting meditative music. What more could you ask for? Maybe an exhibition to see, but I’m not picky.

Saatchi Gallery

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: ****

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: ***

Ambience and vibes: *

Walking up the steps of the Saatchi Gallery, I noticed a sign asking for a £3 donation – but there’s no way that’s coming out of my pocket. Charles can pay for his own overheads…

Anyway, back to the task at hand: the gift shop! I spotted a delicately curated display of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia. I wonder if Charles is behind that. One item caught my eye: a box of ‘pillow talk’ prompt cards for couples, packed with sexy conversation starters for the bedroom. “God, if you have to come to the Saatchi Gallery just to think of conversation topics to use on your bae maybe you need to rethink your relationship.”, I sneered cynically to myself. Oh… they’re actually quite good, I realised as I swiped through the cards. I made some notes for future reference. 

Institute of Contemporary Arts

Range of goods: **

Tourist appeal: *

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: ***

Ambience and vibes: *****

The Institute for Contemporary Arts has many feathers in its cap: music, art, beer, and, most importantly, an excellent book shop. It’s the perfect place to acquire a hoard of books you’ll never read,  but will display by your bed in the hope of one day impressing a shag with your cool, bookish nature. I was once caught out when a guest began reading a said cool-cover book and asked questions about the plot. Quick! Distract! I’m a sucker for a fun cover. It may be mutton dressed as lamb, but if it’s pink, neon, or has a sexy picture on the front, I’m sold.

The British Museum 

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: *****

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: **

Ambience and vibes: **

Next on my hit list was just a stone’s throw away from the office and yeah, it’s a bit obvious, but I couldn’t leave this infamous one out. With an anxiety-inducing bag check on the way in, the security guard flagged me for having a mic in my bag. Just journalist things. They seemed nervous, as if they’ve had some recent bad press or something. But I’m not here to nick anything, or hack the IT system, I’m here to judge the gifts. And judge I shall. Alongside Harry Potter card games, Egyptian Mummy themed rubber ducks, The British Museum has a great array of over-priced shawls and scarves that would come in handy if you’re dressing up as a Year 6 piano teacher. Only £215 – bargain! 

Tate Modern 

Range of goods: ***

Tourist appeal: ****

didn’t-know-i-wanted-it-til-i-saw-it factor: ***

Ambience and vibes: ***

Now, this one’s a classic. I still have the exhibition poster from Wolfgang Tillmans’ 2017 show hanging on my bedroom wall, bought on an A-Level photography trip to the Tate. If you’re feeling crazy, or just need to take the edge off the confusion of those escalators in the Turbine Hall, the Tate gift shop is fertile ground for drinking games. Take a shot every time you spot an iteration of Bob and Roberta Smith’s Make Art not War (in fridge magnet, diary cover or oven glove form). Or take a shot every time you spot an awkward first date peacocking their knowledge of analogue photography to impress a prospective beau. Even better, take a shot every time the security guard eyes you up, presumably for suspecting shoplifting. You’ll be stumbling out the door. Or maybe that’s just me… 

Wow, that was a lot. I shopped ’til I dropped. The dopamine hit didn’t last long, but at least I’ve given you guys the intel. Don’t say I don’t treat you! The final gift shop on my hit list is the Plaster store, which opens on 12th February. We’ll be selling brand new Plaster merch and objects by amazing artists curated by the Plaster team and taken over by guest curators. We’ll let you judge the vibes…