The Rise of E-Cigarette Sticker Bins: A New Social Habit in Nicotine Culture (Southwark News Issue)

As vaping continues to replace traditional smoking, a curious new habit is emerging in urban spaces. Beyond the growing popularity of e-cigarettes, there is a subtler, often-overlooked trend—one that plays out not in the act of vaping itself but in what happens after. Increasingly, bins outside convenience stores are being transformed into makeshift sticker boards, covered in the remnants of e-cigarette branding.

Take a walk down Borough High Street, and you’ll see the evidence firsthand. Outside the Tesco Express, the dustbin near the entrance is thick with overlapping vape stickers, forming a chaotic mosaic of Elf Bar, Lost Mary, and Elux branding. Just 20 feet away, a second bin remains curiously untouched, as if unofficially designated for actual rubbish rather than nicotine memorabilia. The same pattern repeats further down the road—by the Sainsbury’s Local near Southwark Station, and outside the corner shops along Great Suffolk Street, where bins double as impromptu canvases for the city’s vaping habits.

The logic behind this behavior is simple. Unlike cigarette packs, which require no additional unpacking beyond flipping open a lid, disposable vapes often come sealed with a small branded sticker, ensuring freshness and authenticity. The moment a new vape is opened, this sticker becomes redundant. Instead of discarding it conventionally, users—almost instinctively—place it on the closest available surface. Over time, these bins have evolved into unintentional collages, displaying a history of nicotine preferences and brand loyalties.

This phenomenon speaks to the way vaping has developed its own micro-rituals, distinct from traditional smoking. Where smokers once flicked their lighters or crushed cigarette packs in a pocket, vapers have their own unconscious behaviors, from the way they exhale vapor to the stickers they discard. The sticker habit also reflects something of the disposability ingrained in vaping culture itself. Unlike a traditional lighter or cigarette case, which might be carried for weeks or months, disposable vapes are designed for short-term use and easy disposal. The stickers, much like the devices, are used once and forgotten—except when they find a home atop a bin.

Southwark is no exception to this trend. The bins outside the 24-hour off-licences on the Elephant & Castle roundabout bear the same patchwork of brand labels, a quiet indicator of the area’s late-night vape economy. Even in more polished surroundings, like outside the Tate Modern or near the foodie hub of Flat Iron Square, you’ll find the same sticker graffiti creeping onto public bins, blending into the city’s ever-changing streetscape.

As the vaping industry continues to evolve, so too will the habits surrounding it. Perhaps brands will embrace the trend, incorporating sticker-friendly marketing into their packaging. Alternatively, councils and businesses may push back against the growing mess, treating vape sticker bins as a form of low-level vandalism.

For now, though, the sticker-covered bins of Southwark stand as an unintentional emblem of modern nicotine culture—an everyday artifact of a world increasingly shaped by e-cigarettes.