Licence to spill: six London landladies on what it takes to run a pub in 2024

In her book The Last Landlady: An English Memoir, writer Laura Thompson tells the story of her grandmother Violet, the first woman in England to be given a publican’s licence in her own name. She was one of the great landladies: “A casual empress on her stool… the person who conjured and orchestrated everything.”

Born in a London pub, (the daughter of a landlord) Violet was the much-revered matriarch of a Home Counties public house. Thompson’s memoir speaks of a no nonsense, sharp tongued and mesmeric woman who embodied her role with all of her being: “She saw the whole of life through that particular prism… Pubs, to her, were not just a job. They were more like a calling… her greatness as a landlady came from the fact that she believed, with a true faith, that a proper pub was a beautiful thing.”

Often portrayed as soap opera caricatures – all leopard print, talons and Elnett Strong Hold – landladies, in 2024, are more likely to be donning their wellies than St Michael court shoes or wielding a paintbrush than a Vogue and Cinzano.

Sadly, though, it’s no secret that the Great British pub is having a tough old time. In the first three months of 2024 alone, 80 pubs closed across England and Wales per month – a 56 per cent increase compared to the previous year. And in 2023, London saw the most pubs close in the first six months of the year than anywhere else in England. Business rates, the Covid hangover and rising taxes have all had their say.

I met with six of London’s finest to ask how they got here, what drives them and how to keep the role of the landlady – and pubs – alive.

A black eye, an armed robbery, a run-in with British acting royalty: Natasha Purdom’s 25-year career working behind pub bars has been colourful to say the least. Her first pub job was at The Flower Pot in her hometown in Bedford. She remembers being in awe of landlady Kathy: “She was a strong woman, the driver of the business… Whenever she worked a Saturday night, she was always dressed up: she put on her makeup and clothes and her job was to engage with the customers – I liked the glamour of it.”

Now, Purdom and her husband (who she moved to London with in 1999 to start their careers) run The North Star in Hampstead. While her role as a landlady might not be as glamorous, Purdom admits, it’s a job that certainly isn’t boring. “There is no monotony, your day is governed by who walks in and the conversations you have. I’ve met some very interesting people.”

One, she reveals, was a famous actor. “He called me a ‘bitch of a landlady’, to which I said, ‘From you, I’ll take that as a compliment’. He wanted to fight me.” She’s been called a “tyrant” on pub Facebook groups: “I don’t take shit. Me and my husband have a rule that if there is an issue with a man, I deal with it – there’s less danger of confrontation.”

Purdom’s approach to the needs of women working in pubs is especially admirable, knowing where her staff live and making sure they aren’t travelling home late at night: “Safety,” she says, “is paramount.” She also advocates pub work as having great scope for mothers – in fact, she currently has three single mothers working for her: “It’s about being understanding and flexible for them.”

Training a revolving door of staff and rising business rates are two of her biggest challenges right now. Purdom hopes having a role like hers is easier in the future. “We need some way of training like apprenticeships, but it’s also about pay and finding that balance of paying people enough money to make them want them to turn it into a career.”

Ali Ross first became curious about hospitality at the tender age of eight. “I'd gone to Northern Ireland with my family,” she recalls fondly. “We were in a restaurant and these girls were disappearing through doors, and I was like, ‘What the hell is going on?’ They took the young Ross behind the scenes to see for herself what happened back-of-house – a spark was well and truly lit.

Fast-forward 32 years and you’ll find Ross behind the pumps (or in her wellies in the cellar) of one of London’s most iconic pubs: Soho’s The Coach & Horses. Having taken over as landlady in 2019 as the pub was welcomed into the Fuller’s fold (Ross was pursuing marketing until she joined the brewer to work at venues across the capital), she is an integral part of a team that is credited with bringing what felt like a fading Soho star back to its heyday glory.

The changeover was less than harmonious though and Ross admits it was far from easy: “It was wholly overwhelming. I really, really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I hadn't really worked in a community pub before… I didn’t want to upset anyone.” Judging by the heralded quality of the beer, a flurry of new awards (it took the number 1 spot in the London Standard’s 50 Best Pubs in 2023) and the near-constant inability to find oneself a perch inside the pub, and upset is surely far from Ross’s mind now.

Her own ownership of the role of landlady is something she’s spearheaded with two main approaches: “Confidence and competence”. The perception of women as more natural caregivers is also something that isn’t lost on Ross, nor is the importance of being seen and heard. “I think I've used my tone of voice and presence too; physically taking up a larger space really does help.”

Making sure roles like hers continue to exist is part of her ongoing legacy. “I want to make sure that the role doesn't seem like it's something only a man can do because it's lifting heavy barrels, or working nights when women should be at home having babies – that’s nonsense… Let’s just do ourselves a favour and make sure that the role doesn't look like that to the next generation.”

When Pauline Forster took over the closed George Tavern 21 years ago, having moved to east London from The Cotswolds as a 53-year-old single woman, she had no intention of running it as a pub, but as a home. When she arrived and began unveiling the space, however, it became quickly apparent that there was life in the old girl yet. “After a few weeks being here, I thought this probably is too good. I mean, it was just waiting to be opened, so I got the licence back.” She arrived in May of 2003 and by September, it was open.

Heavily dyslexic and a true creative, Forster describes herself as someone who has always had to “make my own way in the world”. Having run a very successful clothing and accessory company and known for her controversial performance art pieces, her skillset was invaluable for bringing The George Tavern back to life from near dereliction, inside and out (and she continues to restore the 17th century pub on a regular basis).

From repairing balustrades and window mouldings, to running up and down ladders, and mixing the pigment for a makeover paint job, her handiwork has not gone unnoticed among the locals: “They've seen me do absolutely everything. From entertaining behind the bar, to mopping the floor, sweeping the streets. The respect’s there now.” And she continues to innovate as pub culture changes, making and installing her own pizza oven, hosting plays in the upstairs rooms and even running vintage clothes sales.

When it comes to the future, Forster may not be going anywhere soon, but her five children are ready to continue her legacy at the pub which has become a huge part of her life’s work. They, no doubt, will contribute their own magic too: “We’re all dyslexic with Aspergers thrown in too… that makes you have to find your own groove”.

Born in India, and raised in Zambia, Megha Khanna’s trajectory as a pub landlady was never on the cards. “Pubs and alcohol just weren’t part of my culture,” she explains from The Gladstone Arms which she runs alongside her brother, Gaurav. In fact, she’d never stepped foot in one until her early twenties where a move to Cardiff to study marketing (and then to London) introduced her to the world of pubs.

Her brother Gaurav, who had always worked in hospitality, had a dream of having something of his own and when the family decided to acquire a pub in Borough, Khanna’s role was only meant to be a casual one: “I wasn’t meant to be involved, my brother just asked if I could give him a helping hand. That was April 2017 – we’ve been running it together ever since.”

When they took over the SE1 pub, it was on the verge of being demolished and turned into flats. Khanna and her brother breathed new life into it, reinvigorating its live music scene, introducing an Anglo-Indian food menu and establishing a solid beer offering on its now 16 taps.

Her main goal as a landlady is to be “as welcoming as possible” and she’s spent the last couple of years focusing on socialising and mingling with her customers. “A lot of people are lonely and this is the extension of their living room,” she explains. “You’re like a therapist in many ways, a person they can talk to.” She doesn’t shy away from the fact that there’s also a lot of admin. And that you have to be “tough when you need to be”.

What are her hopes for the landladies of the future? She hopes that people will realise the benefits of the job, despite its challenges: “It’s a very fulfilling job. We’ve provided a livelihood for people and I hope a good environment for people to work in, but it can be draining.” Seeing more women like her in the role is important too. “Being I think the first Indian pub landlady in the UK, and being a woman of colour, I hope that gives people inspiration.”

Esther Redfern-Ghaleb remembers growing up in pubs, a glass of lemonade in one hand and a packet of crisps in the other. She moved to London from Birmingham aged 20 to pursue ballet, while working at the iconic Hawley Arms in Camden. But after a knee injury which stopped her from dancing, she found unlikely solace in the pub, staying for five years, and progressing to supervisor and later assistant manager. Her latest role was as general manager for the Compton Arms in Islington, where she’s currently on maternity leave having had her son in February this year.

Her role entails anything from lifting kegs (“I have this super strength”) to being able to deal with customers “in a way that you aren’t overlooked for being a female”. Working with other women is something Redfern-Ghaleb has advocated in her own teams. When she became GM at the Compton, she brought her colleague Nicky from the Hawley Arms over as her assistant: “When we ran it, it was amazing and liberating,” she recalls fondly. “I knew it would be tough. She was the voice, but I was always the person to go to if she was trying to talk down a customer… You’ve got to have a thick skin.”

Redfern-Ghaleb worked all the way up to giving birth. “I had so much anxiety thinking about not being at work,” she explains. “I was always on call and if anything happened I would go in.” Her future behind the bar now is uncertain despite having the support of her team. “I don’t know how I feel, I will always be a part of the pub and I’ll definitely go back, but working out flexibility is a bit worrying.”

What is certain though is her love for pubs. “I love the regulars I have. A pub will always be a pub as long as it has regulars. It’s the whole social aspect where everyone just gets on and has an open mind; it’s the atmosphere and how you feel when you go in.”

“I’m probably the least traditional landlady,” she says. With no experience in hospitality before she opened her Dodo Micropub in Ealing back in 2017, Lucy Do is not exaggerating. After beginning a marketing career in publishing, a trip to a micropub by the sea began the fledgling idea of recreating the concept closer to home. After a redundancy, a wad of resulting money, and the “kick up the bum” she needed, she turned that fledgling into a fully formed dodo.

The Dodo Micropub is a thriving, community-driven hub where you’re just as likely to be silent-discoing, painting or downing dumplings as you are enjoying cask ale. The Free Cheeseboard Sundays have become a monthly pilgrimage for locals and regulars and The Dodo is as much about connecting people as serving top tier food and drink.

If you follow her on Instagram, you’ll wonder when Do has any time to breathe. “As a small business owner, you have to wear so many different hats… Saturday was a 16-hour day. It still baffles me that at the age of 42 I still also have the energy to do payroll, staffing, and beer ordering.”

This was made even harder by the sexist and racist abuse Do has sadly experienced as the face of her own business. “People have said things to me like, ‘You don’t often see Asian women running pubs, you see them in takeaways’.” For Do, who is often outspoken about these matters in the industry on social media, standing firmly in the face of such abuse is her way of showing that you can subvert people’s biases: “It’s important to represent not being the norm and see that as empowering.”

When it comes to the future, Do hopes more women will see the intrinsic value in running communal spaces as a career. “Women-led pubs are brilliant… women are empathetic, they create an atmosphere that is empathetic, especially in a community setting. There is so much great value to running a pub and creating a safe space.”