First Thursdays used to be all about art, creativity and connecting with Cape Town’s cultural pulse. Locals now say it’s more commercialised, with fewer galleries and more Instagram-ready content.
Image: Instagram
There was a time when First Thursdays in Cape Town actually meant something. And I’m not talking about the watered-down, Gen Z-friendly version we’re seeing now.
I’m talking about the glory days, when you and your friends would hit the city centre as if you owned it. Walking through those streets with no real plan except vibes? Elite behaviour. Truly.
You’d wander past galleries that kept their doors wide open, pouring free wine like they were trying to recruit you into the arts.
And, of course, you’d take it because who says no to a free Chardonnay while pretending to understand a painting?
First Thursdays in Cape Town didn’t start as just a “thing to do on a Thursday night”. It was created with a purpose: to give local artists a platform, a chance to showcase their work, and, most importantly, to get recognition.
Back in the early 2000s, the city’s art scene was vibrant but fragmented. Galleries were scattered, exhibitions were often invitation-only, and many talented creatives struggled to get eyes on their work.
The idea was simple: one Thursday each month, galleries would keep their doors open late, offering free or low-cost access to the public. The goal was to encourage locals and visitors alike to explore Cape Town’s creative scene, meet artists, and engage with art in a way that felt approachable and fun.
You also had bars throwing out drink specials, restaurants buzzing, strangers becoming friends, friends becoming chaotic, the whole package. Bree Street, Long Street, the side alleys you only discovered by accident… it all felt like one giant playground but for grown-ups.
That was the heart of First Thursdays: walking the city, being outside, feeling young, feeling free, and actually touching culture, not content.
But apparently, like most things that start pure in this country, First Thursdays has also “entered its commercial era”. A recent video from someone shared a satirical moment on the organising side.
In the clip, he asks: “What if we made it about consumption? Let’s make it about clothes, jewellery, thrift stores - it will be packed."
First Thursdays was created with a purpose, to give local artists a platform, a chance to showcase their work, and, most importantly, to get recognition.
Image: Picture: Instagram
Now, pause. Because thrift stores? Affordable? These days? Please. Some of these so-called thrifts are out here charging boutique prices for second-hand jeans that still smell like the previous owner’s fabric softener.
He even admits, “We are not doing that anymore,” when talking about art being the focus. Imagine! The whole event started as an arts and culture initiative, now it’s DJs inside every restaurant, curated Instagram corners, and soft-life aesthetics as far as the eye can see.
Bree Street has become the new hotspot, while Long Street… shame. Long Street used to be her. The OG baddie. Now, she’s more like that one friend who peaked in varsity but still tries to convince you she’s “still got it”.
I’ll be honest, I haven’t been to First Thursdays in a minute. Last time I went, we were still gallery-hopping like it was bar-hopping.
Running on free wine, acting like we understood the “meaning” of a sculpture made of scrap metal, then eventually stumbling into the nearest spot for a drink because we earned it. There was a charm to it. A looseness. A sense of community.
A whole cultural crash course for those of us who didn’t grow up spending weekends at galleries or casually dropping phrases like “post-modern expressionism.”
First Thursdays made art feel accessible, even for people who couldn’t tell the difference between abstract and “my niece could’ve painted this.”
You’d walk into a gallery you’d never even noticed before, suddenly surrounded by canvases, sculptures, installations, and artists who were brave enough to put their souls on the wall.
And you’d stand there, pretending to analyse a piece made of rusted metal and fishing wire, saying things like, “It’s giving tension,” while secretly Googling the artist’s name.
One of the few comments to the video said: “Living in Cape Town isn’t as enjoyable as it used to be. It’s so densely packed that it feels like you’re fighting for space in a city you already pay bloody rates and taxes in.”
And that’s a whole separate conversation because overcrowding, rising rent, and the general “everything is expensive now” reality have sucked joy out of so many things in this city.
Reports already show people feel priced out of their own lifestyles, with urban crowding and commercialisation draining that easy-going Cape Town energy we once bragged about.
So yes, maybe it’s not just First Thursdays. Maybe it’s Cape Town shifting. Growing. Squeezing. Becoming a place where everything has to make money first before it can be meaningful.