greggs is crap

The Absolute State of Greggs

In this unapologetic critique of the UK's favourite bakery chain, Greggs, Lucy Carter highlights the chain's overrated reputation, marketing genius and her personal journey from fan to critic.


It’s time for me to speak my truth—I don’t like Greggs. I’ve known for years but kept it to myself out of fear. The British public is more defensive of the bakery chain than anything else the country has to offer, and speaking out against their beloved sausage roll supplier could have dire results. When friends ask me what I’ve been writing recently, I’ve answered in hushed tones and received nothing but scorn. The message is clear: Greggs is sacred.

But why, though? If someone asked me to describe an average Greggs, I’d probably compare it to an isolated service station to convey its culinary quality and charm. I’ve never been in a Greggs and thought, “Well, I’m glad I came here.” One fateful day I was forced by circumstance to buy my lunch there, and after much deliberation, I bought one of the most unpleasant chicken salad sandwiches of my life. Unable to finish the overly-mayo’d, bland blob of bread, I had to abandon it in the bin after just a few bites. The incident was one of my great regrets of 2022.

Greggs coffee

Greggs is revered as a saintly institution in the UK…

Greggs sausage roll nativity

…even going so far as comparing their sausage rolls to Jesus Christ himself in this nativity scene, upsetting many Christians in the process

To tell the complete truth, I haven’t always been such an anti-Greggser. When I was a kid, I used to love one of their chocolate chip cookies after a Saturday dance class. The feel of the paper and cellophane bag, the precise texture of the crumb—the memories remain, even if my love does not.

I don’t know exactly when the shift occurred, but I know that while my opinions may be stronger than others, I’m not the only one whose pastry passion has waned. When questioned on the quality of Greggs products over the years, one self-professed “Gregghead” stated that although their usual order, the pizza slice, was beyond reproach, “the quality in the past decade has definitely diminished”.

This isn’t an isolated opinion—Greggs only has a 2.4-star rating on Trustpilot, with many users reporting that products are both of a lower quality and a higher price. On the r/CasualUK Reddit, one user’s admittance that “I think Greggs is below average” opened the gates for others to admit their true feelings about the bakery. “I loved greggs!” One user commented. “Then it dawned [on] me, it’s crap. My wife constantly wants to get one when we see a shop, and I would go for it, but now I just think about how plain and tasteless it really is.” It’s good to see that the brainwashing is reversible, at least.

Despite its unimpressive cuisine, Greggs is a staple of British culture and a brand that people will run to defend as if they had shares in the company. This is partly due to its unrivalled hold on the British bakery scene, with an astounding 2,184 branches across the UK.

https://twitter.com/AscendedYield/status/1669444820496969730?s=20

Since John Gregg opened his eponymous bakery in Tyneside in 1939, the company has done nothing but thrive—unfortunately. In many places, local, reasonably-priced bakeries are extinct, as Greggs has taken over high streets up and down the country. In Nottingham, a petition was launched earlier this year to try and combat Greggs’ monopoly over the pastry market. The page states that Greggs “is doing heavy damage to our pastry economy”, crippling local businesses while raising its own prices.

While the lack of alternatives may have led to an acceptance of Greggs, the fanaticism of its devotees has been stoked by canny marketing techniques. The digital age has certainly been a boon to the bakery, boosting its popularity and cementing it as a cultural ambassador for the UK to an international audience. By being extremely online, as many companies are, “Greggs has cultivated a relatable and fun brand personality,” says Judith O’Leary, founder of PR and digital marketing agency Represent. “It’s positioned itself as the everyday Brit.”

The company has always been ahead of the trends, whether through shareable content distributed via “their savvy use of social media” or their groundbreaking steps into the vegan market in 2019. People were practically fighting in the streets to get their hands on a vegan sausage roll, and 2020’s vegan steak bake launch used fashion brand-style ‘drop’ techniques to, as Marketing Week described, “hype the vegan steak bake as this season’s must-have product”, building anticipation using the scarcity effect and cultivating a fear of missing out amongst fans. Luxury product it is not, but that didn’t stop people queuing as if it were the latest Supreme collection.

Greggs has greatly impacted how food chains market themselves through its antics. After they made their sausage roll a star, food chains worldwide have followed suit with countdowns, exclusive reveals and intriguing advertising campaigns designed to build excitement for their new sandwich filling or frappe flavour. Some may call this admirable; I call it unforgivable. Sure, it’s a great tactic. It makes an overpriced baguette seem way more exciting than it actually is. But it also works far too well on me—I was anticipating Pret’s spring/summer menu for far too long. Knowing that Greggs is ultimately responsible for this wasted time only fuels the fire of my disdain.

Aside from quirky product launches, Greggs’s biggest marketing ploy was the release of its clothing line in 2022. After opening a branch in the world’s biggest Primark (“the most instagrammable Greggs the world has ever seen), the company announced its collection in collaboration with the fast fashion retailer. Personally, I wouldn’t want to wear what looks like an employee uniform unless I was being paid, but the public ate it up just as quickly as Greggs’s sausage rolls.

This collaboration was “a stroke of genius”, according to O’Leary. This is undeniable; no matter your opinions on the bakery or its products, the fact that they’ve managed to turn people into walking adverts is impressive.

Greggs’ most recent splash in the media was its battle to keep its Leicester Square branch open until 2am between Thursday and Saturday. When I saw the headlines proclaiming that the licence was granted, a shiver ran down my spine. Encountering a Greggs in daylight hours is bad enough—the thought of seeing the bright orange and blue lights shining in the small hours is chilling.

I hope that one day this nation will be free of its Greggs fixation, that I can walk down the street without fear of encountering someone in Greggs joggers or seeing yet another overly-cheery ‘coming soon!’ hoarding pop up. For now, however, all I can do is mourn the loss of Percy Ingle and hope that I won’t be judged too harshly for my views. If anything happens to me in the next few days, just know—the Greggheads did it.


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