Hidden amongst the barrage of commercial advertisements and billboards that dominate our city landscape, the more curious among us may be drawn to some unusual markings; the plethora of quirky stickers plastered on lampposts, signs and electrical boxes. Follow the Stickers is a short film by Nottingham-based documentary filmmaker Matt Watts. Here he shares his journey of tangents, discovering artists, events and more obscure messages of the underground sticker world, and telling us why we should keep an eye out for them too…
Do you ever look at stickers? They’re everywhere in Nottingham: on lampposts from Hucknall to Clifton, telephone boxes in the Lace Market, road signs by The Contemporary gallery, and every other piece of street furniture that decorates our city. Nottingham is one great big sticker album. If you haven’t been paying attention to them, I’m here to change that.
While our bus stops are plastered in ads, entire trams are wrapped up like sponsored F1 cars, and the screens in front of the Victoria Centre blast commercial messages out, stickers are an unmediated form of self-expression. There’s no algorithm dictating which ones get seen, no legislation governing them, and no gallery-owner deciding which are worthy of display. All human life can be found in the sticker dimension; evangelists, dealers, artists, and protesters, all using the power of graphic design to literally put their stamp on the world.
It’s hard to know which sticker first made me stop and pay attention. It’s like trying to work out when you first noticed that sunsets are pretty. Stickers are the tough little weeds that pop their flowers up between the cracks in the paving slabs... if some of those flowers had QR codes and the occasional OnlyFans link on them, that is.
As we cycle through the seasons, I walk around Nottingham and notice the new crop that’s sprung up. Last year, I was particularly taken by a procession of little black squares that resembled some PS1 game-box art. Seeing an iconic design revived for the pure aesthetic joy of it scratches the nostalgia itch, without being scraped by the claws of reboot culture as it reaches for your wallet.
There’s no algorithm dictating which ones get seen, no legislation governing them, and no gallery-owner deciding which are worthy of display. All human life can be found in the sticker dimension; evangelists, dealers, artists, and protesters, all using the power of graphic design to literally put their stamp on the world
As we cycle through the seasons, I walk around Nottingham and notice the new crop that’s sprung up. Last year, I was particularly taken by a procession of little black squares that resembled some PS1 game-box art. Seeing an iconic design revived for the pure aesthetic joy of it scratches the nostalgia itch, without being scraped by the claws of reboot culture as it reaches for your wallet.
Then there are the rarer, unexpected finds: looking below the button on a pedestrian crossing to find a cartoon character from Nottingham’s Kid30, whose work is often found sprayed on the city’s walls. Deep in the centre of Colwick Woods, a signpost features a character photocopying his peachy bum, from Sneinton Market’s Dizzy Ink. Or, walking along Lower Parliament Street and stopping to read the resonant words of David Lynch, presented in the colours of the trans pride flag: ‘fix your hearts or die’.
Once you start paying attention to the waxing and waning of the stickers, the familiar ones become friendly faces that remind you of home. Each sticker has the potential to last for years, or it could be covered over the next day – another leaf quickly buried in a pile.
One that you’ll always see near the top of the pile is – Jangala. Presented in many different colours and designs, it’s ubiquitous across the city centre. As I started work on my stickers documentary: Follow the Stickers, Jangala was the first lead.
As I write this article, I’m in the sticker obsessed city of Berlin. But what do I see outside Berlin Cathedral, on a street sign? White text on solid black: 0115. The area code for Nottingham
One January evening, as I cycled along Shakespeare Street, I saw a figure decorating a telephone box with the bubbly Jangala font. His name was Jim, and if he was surprised to be approached in the twilight by an overly curious cyclist, he didn’t show it. In fact, he agreed to give me his contact details so we could arrange an interview, which took place at one of the Jungle music events that Jangala runs across Notts.
This project made for a very interesting filming schedule: going from a conspiracy theorist rally, to an interview at the Arena Church in Hockley, to a Jungle night at Percy Picklebackers. Thankfully, not all on the same day. The stickers were an invitation to parts of Nottingham’s culture that I never would’ve otherwise experienced.
Once the documentary was finished, I made my own stickers to promote it. Maybe you’ve seen them around town? They’re yellow and black, and one YouTube commenter mistook one for a conspiracy sticker and tore it down, but regretted it and was subsequently glad when the QR code took them to my film.
It’s been interesting watching them go through the life cycle of stickers: removed during the great cleansing of the ‘Furry Sticker Pole of Nottingham’ (a story for another time), covered up by a sticker referencing the indie film The People’s Joker, and gently receding into the city’s sticker patchwork.
Despite making this documentary, I’m no sticker expert. As many YouTube commenters are keen to point out, there’s so much more to discuss and discover. Every sticker is an invitation to be curious. It may lead you to the Instagram page of an artist you’d never have discovered within the filter bubbles of modern life. It may take you to an obscure musician’s Bandcamp and you spend the day listening to an album that would never have made it onto your Spotify playlist. You could discover the person who does your next tattoo. Or, as it happened to me just this week, a mysterious QR code simply labelled ‘Scan me’ could result in you, in 2025, being rick-rolled.
As I write this article, I’m in the sticker obsessed city of Berlin. But what do I see outside Berlin Cathedral, on a street sign? White text on solid black: 0115. The area code for Nottingham and perhaps the only sticker that can rival Jangala for dominance in Notts. A sticker can be a little slice of home, a wink of the eye, a reverse postcard sent to you from your home city.
So if there’s anything I want to say to you, it’s this: wherever you are, whether you’re in Beeston or Berlin, it’s worth keeping an eye on the stickers. Oh, and please watch my documentary.
Follow the Stickers is available to watch via YouTube and Matt’s website.
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