The underground to ExCeL was choked with people of all sorts, in the most fascinating costumes you could imagine. Capes brushed against coats, wigs in every colour of the rainbow bobbed in the crowd, and lightsabers peeked out of rucksacks. If you were unaware of what was happening at ExCeL that weekend, you would definitely raise an eyebrow.
But once you stepped into the main halls, everything made sense. It was Comic Con weekend, and there was an air of friendliness that you could almost feel in the air. You could stop anyone for a photo, and they would smile and happily agree. Everyone seemed to be in on some beautiful secret: that here, it was okay to be whoever you wanted to be.
I loved watching strangers become friends just because they were dressed as the same character. There was something oddly heartwarming about seeing two people light up in recognition, point at each other, laugh, and then pose together for pictures as if they had known each other forever.
One of the funniest moments for me was seeing a group of about ten people all dressed as Homelander. They were huddled together, taking countless photos and laughing at how they had somehow found each other in the sea of costumes. It was such a wholesome, joyful scene.
And then there was the guy dressed as Michael Jackson, who had on a full Spiderman mask. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was such an unexpected combination, but he owned it completely, dancing his way through the crowd like a true performer. Moments like that made the day even better.
Everywhere I turned, I saw people of all ages and backgrounds, completely themselves and completely free. No judgement. No fear. Just people coming together for the sheer love of stories and the characters that shaped them.
There were families dressed as the characters from Toy Story, The Addams Family and the folks from Bikini Bottom.There were fans who became stars for a day as they were stopped for photos, and people proudly wearing their favourite T-shirts from old shows or games. It didn’t matter how elaborate or simple your outfit was. Everyone belonged. Everyone was weird, and that was perfectly normal.
As I left, I thought about how magical it felt to be surrounded by people united by storytelling. For a few hours, we weren’t commuters or professionals or parents juggling too many things. We were dreamers, believers, and fans just soaking in the joy of being part of something bigger than ourselves. It was a reminder that our love for stories connects us in the most unexpected and beautiful ways.