The UK comic con experience is unlike anything else on earth. Specifically, MCM London at the ExCeL Centre, where thousands of people dressed as everyone from Goku to a gender-swapped Thanos queue peacefully alongside a bloke in a fleece who came in off the DLR and genuinely thought there might be some old crockery for sale. I’ve been to more of these things than I care to admit, and every single time the cast of characters is identical. Not the cosplay characters. The actual human archetypes. They’re always there. Reliable as British drizzle.
The overnight camper (arrived before the venue staff)
You spot this person immediately because they have a camping chair, a flask, a clearly-labelled spreadsheet of the day’s panel schedule, and the thousand-yard stare of someone who hasn’t slept since they finished hot-glueing their pauldrons at 1am. Their costume is immaculate. Pressed, lit, and probably weatherproofed. They queued in the dark. They will queue again tomorrow. This is not a hobby for them. This is a lifestyle, and they are absolutely thriving, and I respect them enormously while also finding them mildly terrifying.
The bloke who accidentally wandered in
He’s wearing a North Face gilet and carrying a Costa. He walked in because the ExCeL carpark was cheaper than Canary Wharf on a weekend and someone told him there was a convention on, so he thought, why not? He keeps asking people what they’re dressed as and nodding enthusiastically even when nobody can hear him through their helmet. He will buy a £4 badge of a character he doesn’t recognise, show it to his wife later, and describe the whole thing as “a bit mad, actually, but alright.”
The cosplayer having a full-on wardrobe crisis at 9am
She’s sat cross-legged on the pavement outside with a travel sewing kit, a portable glue gun plugged into a power bank, and the focused expression of a surgeon mid-operation. One wing has detached. The headdress is at a 40-degree angle. Her friend is standing behind her holding two pieces of EVA foam together with both hands and pure hope. They will fix it. It will look incredible. The crisis will have been worth it. This is peak UK comic con experience energy and I mean that as the highest possible compliment.
The parent who drew the short straw
He is fifty-two. He is wearing sensible shoes. He has no idea what a Funko Pop is. He’s been handed a tote bag and told to hold it whilst his child disappears into a crowd dressed as Nezuko. For the first hour he looks genuinely bewildered. By lunchtime he’s quietly looking at a display of vintage Doctor Who figures and seems, improbably, interested. By 3pm he’s bought a Tom Baker scarf and is asking a vendor whether they have the Pertwee era on Blu-ray. Every single time. It always happens exactly like this.
The professional autograph hunter
This person has done their research. They have a laminated list. They arrived at the signing table forty-seven minutes before the queue officially opened, and they have opinions about the wristband system. They’re not rude about it, just very precise. They will get every signature. They will photograph each one. The signed items will go into a protective sleeve before the ink is dry. If you’re after someone who understands the value of a well-documented procedure, this is your person.
The group who planned a themed squad cosplay and are now three people short
There are four of them where there were meant to be seven. Nobody is naming names, but someone’s train was delayed, someone else “just couldn’t get the armour finished in time”, and one person apparently forgot it was this weekend entirely. The remaining four are making it work. They have excellent chemistry and they are furious. They will absolutely win a group photo competition because they still pull it off, and the fury is giving them a kind of chaotic energy that frankly reads very well on camera.
The person exclusively there for the dealer hall
They are not in costume. They brought cash. Specifically, a suspicious amount of cash in an envelope. They have a list of things they’re looking for, and it includes a very specific 1994 action figure in original packaging, a set of out-of-print manga volumes, and something they saw on eBay last month but refused to pay the listed price for on principle. They will find it. They always do. The dealer hall at MCM London is absolutely wild in the best possible way, and this person is its apex predator.
The person who has never been to one before and is absolutely overwhelmed
Eyes wide. Moving slowly. Stopping every four metres to take a photo. Slightly unsure whether they’re allowed to ask for photos with cosplayers (you are, just ask nicely). They came because a friend dragged them along and they weren’t sure it was their thing, and now they’re standing next to a full-scale TARDIS prop surrounded by people in elaborate armour and they’re having the time of their life. According to the BBC’s coverage of how geek culture went mainstream, this has been happening to first-timers for years. Good. It should keep happening.
The seasoned veterans who’ve seen it all
These two (it’s always two, like a comedy duo) have been coming since the early MCM days when it was a fraction of the size and everything cost less. They remember when the queue wasn’t quite so apocalyptic. They have opinions about the layout changes and they will share those opinions with anybody who makes eye contact for more than three seconds. But they also know exactly which food stall is worth the wait, which panel is genuinely unmissable, and which signing will have a shorter queue at 2pm than at 11am. They are, without question, the most useful people in the building. Much like comic book characters navigating a chaotic British event, they’ve developed battle-hardened instincts that lesser attendees simply don’t have yet.
The one who brought too much stuff
A rucksack that could contain a small family. Multiple tote bags. A wheeled suitcase for reasons that become clear only when they pull out a full-size replica prop mid-afternoon and start offering photos with it. Navigating through the ExCeL corridors near them is like being in a crowded Tube carriage, except the person blocking you is wearing full plate armour and carrying a foam sword the length of a lamppost. I say this as someone who once watched a bloke in a Stormtrooper costume attempt to get through a revolving door. With a cape.
Where does this leave the rest of us?
Somewhere in the queue, probably. The MCM London queue is genuinely its own microculture, a moving city of enthusiasm and slightly-too-heavy prop weapons. The UK comic con experience at its best is chaotic, warm, absurd, and completely brilliant. Every archetype listed above has been me at some point, and I suspect the same is true for most of you. If you’ve ever stood in that queue at 8am in a costume you finished at midnight and thought “this is fine”, you’re already one of us. That’s the point. That’s always been the point. And for those wanting a wider sense of the event landscape, MCM’s own official site lists upcoming UK tour dates, so there’s no excuse to miss the next one. Go. Queue. Embrace the chaos. Just maybe don’t bring the wheeled suitcase.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is MCM London Comic Con and where is it held?
MCM London Comic Con is one of the UK’s largest pop culture events, held at the ExCeL Centre in London’s Royal Docks. It runs twice a year, typically in May and October, drawing tens of thousands of attendees dressed in cosplay, alongside traders, panels, and celebrity signings.
Do you have to be in cosplay to enjoy the UK comic con experience?
Absolutely not. Plenty of people attend in regular clothes and have a brilliant time browsing the dealer hall, watching panels, and taking photos with elaborate cosplayers. Cosplay is celebrated but never required, and the atmosphere is welcoming to everyone from hardcore fans to complete first-timers.
How long are the queues at MCM London?
Queue lengths vary hugely depending on the day and whether you have a pre-purchased ticket. Saturday mornings are notoriously busy and queues can stretch considerably before the doors open. The experienced approach is to arrive early, pre-book everything possible, and check the official MCM schedule for wristband distribution times.