Pop-up bars: A fad or a fixture?

By Emma Thelwell

Instant gratification. Some might say it's all they look for on a Friday night in Sydney.

With pop-up bars you've found it. They crop up in unexpected, empty or derelict locations for a matter of weeks - or even days - designed to be a total flash in the pan.

Punters don't have time to get bored. In fact, they barely have time to find out where the bar is, before it's gone.

Guerrilla restaurants, pop-up bars and underground shops are a by-product of the global financial crisis – it's a way of making a quick buck with an on-trend idea, that is never meant to last.

There are no grand openings or mass marketing campaigns, which is probably why they seem exciting, secret and edgy.

Why carpet bomb Sydney with ads for a bar that's only open a week? Rely on word of mouth (read: Facebook, Twitter) and you've got it made.

But look closer – and are these places as achingly cool and spontaneous as they seem?

Most of them are sponsored by massive drinks companies – because it's a great way of showcasing brands cheaply.

The Stoneleigh Lounge was at Sydney's Custom's House for just three days. This week, Victoria Tourism is behind the Kings Vault pop up wine bar in Darlinghurst – which is stacked full of Kings Valley wine, alongside pictures and information about the region – for five days only.

Next up there's the Beck’s Festival Bar, part of Sydney Festival, which will be at Hyde Park Barracks Museum for most of January.

Most pop up bars lease venues for anything up to three months.

I went to The Pond (pictured above) - a pop-up constructed in a derelict deli in Darlinghurst - last Friday. It had a vast wine list but actually only offered three beers: Pure Blonde, Hoegaarden and Naked. And Pure Blonde is The Pond's sponsor.

On the surface it had a great 'of the moment' vibe. I had a pre-dinner drink in the window-less basement, which was hastily decorated with a mish-mash of op shop furniture, in various shades of brown. It looked like someone's childhood den.

I paid around $8 for a vodka soda, with soda water poured from a plastic bottle and ice scooped out of the sink.

At this point I still liked the place. My friends and I then moved upstairs for dinner, to sit on stools which were clearly made for toddlers. We had a delicious Italian dinner - not particularly cheap.

Then we moved our party outside to perch on wooden crates and rough plywood benches.

Armies of huge cockroaches scrambled up the wall behind us, ousting a good number of well-heeled fashionistas off their crates*. All the more room for us (it was packed out).

NB: these girls didn't complain, or leave, but huddled in the pathways between the crates sipping wine.

I left thinking, I had a good night. Pure Blonde? Pure genius.

How is it possible that I thought The Pond was up to scratch? Because I never expected any more – I knew it was a temporary bar.

The Pond first popped up in Melbourne around a year ago. It stayed for three months, and this year they're trying out the idea in Sydney.

A Pure Blonde spokeswoman told me they relied on word of mouth, and a couple of newspaper reviews to spread the word. The concept, she said, is based around rejuvenation – building a bar out of nothing new or bought, only used items – even down to the cutting boards.

Word on the street is that The Pond is considering extending its stay. I wonder if its standards would change?

Pop-ups have been sweeping through recession-hit Britain all year, with one man opening up a bar on the top floor of a multi-storey car park.

Frank's Cafe, in Peckham – a grotty London borough – was supported by Campari with no financial help, but free stock.

Owner Frank Boxer told the BBC he took a month to construct the bar out of second hand scaffolding. It's been a roaring success over the British summer, pushing locals to plead for a bar on the top of every NCP car park.

Somehow I can't see that happening, but pop-ups are a fantastic way of creating a fresh, seasonal, different bar scene.

Pop-ups can be risqué or silly, they can be used to showcase travel, art, or just plain grog.

In the UK, retailers are catching on too, with craft designers and jewellers abandoning their usual pricey market stalls for 3 month leases of vacant shops – to cash in on the key Christmas sales season.

And it's not just the small guys, plush department store Harvey Nichols has installed a food and wine shop in Manchester's Trafford Centre, and Marmite has erected a temporary shop on London's Regent Street – selling quirky gifts such as oven gloves and sandwich holders for 10 weeks only.

Maybe Vegemite could try and drum up some Cheesymate fans in the same way.

But what does this pop-up world mean for the local, permanent, fixtures? How many licences will councils grant?

Would you want to live in an area where shops and bars popped up and then popped their clogs days later?

Emma Thelwell is ninemsn's finance correspondent

What do you think? Are pop-ups harmless fun, or do they push standards down and threaten community stability?

Have you been to any? Would you like to see more? What sort of pop-up would you create?

*Since publishing this blog I have been contacted by The Pond who assure me they are looking into the cockroach issue.