Diary of a Gen Z Student: Our outdoor drinking spot is being taken away, but it was our Utopia

Jane Cowan: 'Drury Street was our Mecca. We were so committed to it, we talk about sitting there like it’s our civic duty. The closest thing some of us are getting to a summer job is our ‘Drury duty’. And we like it that way.' Eamonn Farrell/© RollingNews.ie

Last week, young people across Dublin received some pretty tough news. One of our favourite drinking spots, the pavement on Drury Street, is being taken away from us.

Dublin City Council took away the outdoor seating licence for our favourite pub on Drury Street, Ciss Maddens. And it feels like our social lives will take quite the hit.

A few nights ago, my friends and I walked down Drury Street on a warm evening to see if there would be anyone out socialising on the street. Apart from a handful of gardaí, it was quiet.

This has been an ongoing struggle between the businesses on Drury Street for a while. Last summer, we saw certain retail businesses put signs up asking for people to stop sitting on the street and drinking. Those signs achieved very little from what I could tell. The street was still packed most days with young people enjoying chic glasses of wine or expensive pints of Guinness.

I get the frustration of certain businesses that felt their shopfront was being impinged upon by reams of young people. Walking down the street felt like navigating a crowded nightclub. Or at least, what I imagine a crowded nightclub would feel like. We haven’t had many of those in Dublin for a long time.

I also get that the street was probably not clean, and that the crowds that gathered were not being adequately facilitated with toilets.

But there was also something so vibrant about that street. I could go there almost any day and practically guarantee that I would run into someone I know. As I was finishing up my final semester of college, dreams of a glass of orange wine on Drury Street were the only thing that could ease my nerves.

I’m not sure that Dublin City Council knows what they’ve just done to the young people with humanities degrees in Dublin.

A sudden burst of sunny weather back in April brought out the fashion conscious in their droves to idle with friends on Drury Street. Picture: Eamonn Farrell/© RollingNews.ie

Drury Street was our Mecca. We were so committed to it, we talk about sitting there like it’s our civic duty. The closest thing some of us are getting to a summer job is our ‘Drury duty’. And we like it that way.

Now we will be forced to sit on real chairs inside a pub, in mood lighting, with no hope of sneaking in a pizza slice from another business.

What if I’m not classy enough for that? What if I like that filthy pavement? I can tell you this much: enjoying a bottle of wine and a slice of pizza with the girls like a street rat, when you live in your mother’s box room, that’s what dreams are made of. It’s our Utopia.

Drury Street drinkers receive a lot of (admittedly deserved) slagging. If we’re being honest with ourselves, there was performance to an evening on Drury Street.

It’s an aesthetic experience in lots of ways. The people that gather there are of a very particular genre, a cult-like subset of Dublin’s young people, ‘Dublin Creatives’ as they’re often referred to.

They carry tote bags and spend years growing shadowy moustaches. They bleach their eyebrows, glue gems to their teeth, pretend to read Sylvia Plath, wear Pellador jumpers, and throw around random bits of Irish vocab that they pick up from Instagram reels.

Jane Cowan: 'Long term, the crowds on that street were probably unsustainable. But let’s be honest here. Young people in Ireland are desperate to get out of the house.' Eamonn Farrell/© RollingNews.ie

They have stick and poke tattoos that they gave themselves during lockdown. They act like Snus is a health supplement. Really, they’ve just studied humanities degrees and can’t let go of the vibes of their university’s Arts building.

But Dublin’s young people found community there. In the midst of clouds of vape smoke, on those urine-soaked pavements, we connected. And isn’t that what life’s all about?

I get it. Long term, the crowds on that street were probably unsustainable. But let’s be honest here. Young people in Ireland are desperate to get out of the house.

According to Eurostat, in 2025 over 60% of 18- to 34-year-olds in Ireland were living at home. And while we are eternally grateful for the hospitality of our parents, we are also craving affordable ways to socialise without our parents being in the next room.

As a young person who was looking forward to spending days on Drury Street this summer, I can’t help but feel like we’re losing a real asset. Drury Street has been formative to my life as a young person in Dublin.

And I’m not alone in that.