The Boilermaker cocktail bar on Putney High Street has reopened — but not in the way anyone planned. Behind its boarded-up windows and blood-splattered Halloween decorations, a small group of squatters has moved in, quietly occupying one of the street’s most prominent corners.
Next door, the White Lion pub — also closed and vacant for over a decade — is in much the same condition. Together, these two buildings now house an unknown number of illegal tenants, living in some cases not out of preference, but because they say they have nowhere else to go.
Putney.News visited the squat on Wednesday evening after hearing reports of movement inside. After some back-and-forth through a locked door, the occupants agreed to speak — with some caution — in the street outside.
One man, Henry, said he had lived in the area for years but turned to squatting after a relationship breakdown left him without housing. “There’s no way I could afford to rent anywhere around here,” he said.
What’s striking is not just the fact of squatting — but the location. This is Putney High Street. These are large, high-footfall commercial properties a stone’s throw from the river. They’re not hidden warehouses or derelict industrial spaces on the fringe. That they’re sitting empty — and accessible — is itself telling.
Too noisy
Ironically, the squatters don’t love the prime spot. “We don’t love the location. It’s noisy, people stare through the windows all the time, and just before you came some kids were banging on the doors trying to get in. It’s too public. But the view of the river is nice.”
They’re there, they say, because it’s dry, warm, and for now, unclaimed. The same is true for The White Lion next door. According to the squatters it has suffered water damage on the ground floor while the upper floors — previously occupied by property guardians — were in decent condition. It was from The White Lion, we understand, that the group was able to access The Boilermaker, where they discovered running water, working toilets and central heating.
The landlord reportedly removed the property guardians — people who pay to live in empty buildings at low cost in exchange for helping secure them against vandalism or squatting — in an effort to increase the property’s value for a sale. While not tenants in the conventional sense, property guardians, can sometimes complicate legal sales due to their rights of occupation. It’s a problem landlords can avoid if a building is simply empty.
As the guardians left, the squatters found a way in. It was likely not a coincidence.
A legal grey zone with quiet organisation
The new group of residents appear to be part of a wider informal network of squatters operating across Putney, Roehampton, Wandsworth and parts of southwest London, having been pushed out from better-monitored boroughs like Chelsea and Kensington.
Their understanding of the law is surprisingly detailed. Commercial squatting is not a criminal offence in the UK, provided there is no forced entry or damage. Property owners must apply for a court possession order before bailiffs can carry out an eviction — and bailiffs must post 24 hours’ notice. That hasn’t happened yet, though the squatters believe it will soon.
In some cases, landlords simply pay squatters to leave quietly, avoiding the delays and costs of formal legal action.
A faded notice taped to the window shows the degree of understanding of the law and organisation behind the squatting movement. It declares the building a non-residential property, stating that Section 144 of the LASPO Act — which makes residential squatting a criminal offence — does not apply. The sign warns that any attempt to enter without permission could be a criminal offence and asserts that only a court possession order can legally remove the squatters. It’s a standard “Section 6” notice used to delay eviction and remind landlords that eviction from commercial premises must go through the civil courts.
Henry and another man, who gave his name as Dodzilla, described the squatting community as a mix of people — some stable, some chaotic. Theft is a constant concern. They said the informal rules of squatting mean that if someone is suspected of stealing, they’re quietly encouraged to move on — sometimes to another building, sometimes out altogether.
Rich pickings in a neglected high street
Putney High Street has seen a sharp rise in empty shops in recent years — some closed during the pandemic and never reopened, others left vacant amid rising rents, business rate pressures and stalled redevelopment plans.
With landlords slow to let or sell, and the council struggling to revitalise the town centre, large commercial properties are now simply lying dormant — easy targets for those desperate enough to make use of them.
Dodzilla argues that the occupation of these spaces is not so much a radical act but a practical response to inaction: “If they’re empty and people haven’t got anywhere to live, it makes sense.” He leaves to ask the next door shop if it will give them any leftover food at the end of the night, rather than throw it away. “It goes to waste otherwise.”
There’s some additional irony in Dodzilla occupying The Boilermaker – he claims to work as a cocktail maker in bars across London, and even held a makeshift cocktail night with what was left in the vacated building. He wasn’t impressed: “They didn’t have good ingredients — they were using an Old Fashioned mix. Not great.” (Strangely, this rings true: The Boilermaker often got bad reviews for the quality of its cocktails.)
A warning sign — and a question of priorities
The fact that two prominent commercial venues have quietly turned into informal homes isn’t just a housing story — it’s a signal of a deeper failure in town centre planning. In better times, neither building would have remained unoccupied long enough to attract squatters. In a better market, they’d be leased, renovated, and reopened.
But they’re not. They’re vacant. And for the new residents, for now, that’s enough.
Henry knows they’ll be moved on. “It always happens eventually,” he said. “It’s already in court. The bailiffs will come. But until then — it’s ours.”
What the law actually says about squatting in commercial properties
Is squatting illegal in the UK?
Yes — but only in residential buildings. Under the Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Act 2012, it is a criminal offence to squat in a home. Offenders can be arrested and jailed.
What about commercial properties?
Squatting in non-residential properties — such as shops, pubs, and offices — is not a criminal offence, provided there is no forced entry, criminal damage, theft, or utility misuse. It remains a civil matter between the occupier and the property owner.
How do owners remove squatters?
Property owners must apply for a possession order through the civil courts. Once granted, enforcement officers (bailiffs) are required to give at least 24 hours’ notice, usually by posting a notice on the building.
Can squatters be evicted immediately?
Not unless a crime has been committed. If squatters have entered peacefully and not caused damage, they cannot be forcibly removed without a court order.
Do landlords ever pay squatters to leave?
Yes. In some cases, landlords will offer squatters a financial incentive to vacate voluntarily, as it is often quicker and cheaper than going through court proceedings.
What are squatters not allowed to do?
- Break locks, windows, or doors to enter
- Use gas, electricity, or water without permission
- Cause damage to the building
- Prevent court-appointed bailiffs from executing an eviction order
