Social media sensation Bins of Congleton uses humour to generate a new appreciation for local waste infrastructure, also encouraging people to keep the town litter-free.
A short distance from Manchester, UK, lies the small market town of Congleton, home to almost 29,000 people and around 150 public waste bins. It’s the bins that we’re interested in.
That might seem an unlikely subject for a popular Instagram account, but some posts on Bins of Congleton have surpassed one million views.
In case there’s any doubt, Bins of Congleton is exactly what is sounds like: images and videos documenting the town’s waste receptacles. Some of them standard, others novelty designs. There are pristine new ones, or unloved and broken ones. Bins may be overflowing, underused, or even unreachable, being as one is behind a fence.
There seems to be a sizable audience who appreciates beauty in the mundane. And surely nothing is taken for granted more than the humble litter bin. In the UK at least, they are a common sight, put there by the local authorities to ensure that people don’t drop rubbish in the street.
Chronicling them was the idea of Andy Bailey, a radio DJ-turned-charity fundraiser, who says he just “fell into this as a hobby” despite having no previous interest in bins, photography, or social media. For the past two years it has dominated much of his free time, earning him the reputation as the northwest’s very own “bin-fluencer”.

In the Beg-bin-ning
Bins of Congleton is quirky to say the least but is done with genuine affection.
It began during the lull between Christmas and New Year, when Andy was out with his four children. They noticed the diverse designs of their hometown’s rubbish collection points. “We walked around the park and spotted all the different bins. And then as we walked home, that randomness continued. I think we counted about ten different ones.” His daughter had a hand in it becoming an Instagram page, which has received more attention that any of them anticipated, including the press from up and down England.
It clearly holds a special place in Andy’s heart for the meaning it has to his family. “She sees it almost like a badge of honour that her dad is in the paper with the bins again,” Andy says of his daughter.
His eldest son, now at university, is a little more reserved. “He doesn’t really entertain it.” Except, in the early days, it was a welcome frivolous distraction from the usual teenage problems, he recalls. “So, there was lots of reasons why I started it really.”
Fun First: Attracting an Audience for Bins
In the two years since, Andy has recorded every one of his hometown’s public rubbish bins and attracted a dedicated following. “It’s all a bit of fun,” he says, adding that it’s probably the very tongue-in-cheek British sense of humour that gave it legs. His wearing of a gold jacket in a video to announce the 100th bin – an unassuming skeletal example stuck in a hedge by the side of the road – suggests this is very much the point.
Not that everyone is in on the joke. “Most days someone will get in touch with me saying, ‘I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you’re doing it.’ And I’ve now got to the point where, rather than trying to explain or justify anything, it’s probably easier just to say, ‘It’s not for you.’” You could say they take it a bit too litter-ally.
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Bins with Purpose
There are plenty of people who take great pleasure in what Andy is doing, though.
He explains that, not long after he started sharing pictures of litter bins online, “people started to get in touch with different stories and were telling me where their favourite bins are”.
Like the couple who first met at a “pebble dash bin in the middle of town” who reached out to say that they were now celebrating their ruby wedding anniversary. “Forty years on, the bin is still there. So in a funny way, that bin is a permanent memory for them.”
That’s what makes Bins of Congleton special: it recognises that even the most basic of municipal form and function – even that which is intended to collect the stinky, sticky waste we no longer want – can be so much more. They’re certainly not uniform, which gave Andy another idea: he started assigning them names.

Nam(b)ing Congleton’s Least Likely Attraction
Originally just a way to tell the bins apart, the names have become a staple of the Bins of Congleton legend. “Suddenly these things took on identities and people remember them and remember where they are a little bit more,” Andy has come to realise.
The names – mostly puns – are all suggested and selected by the public. Many have links to their location. “Near to the church, there’s a lovely little wooden bin called Litters Pray.” Outside a well-known eatery, there’s Egg McMuffBin. On the railway platform, there’s Bintercity 125 – a reference to the intercity train service. And a children’s playground hosts Bind It Like Beckham.
There are those which describe the bins themselves, some of which are novel shapes, such as Litterbottomous (the pink hippo) and the bear-shaped Binnie the Pooh. Two dog mess bins that hang side by side have become Binnie and Clyde. Alcatrash carves a lone figure in the scrub behind a housing development. And of course, one that looks like a writing implement has become Bincil.
A fair few are named after famous figures. There’s the actor Bin Kingsley, and the more current Sabina Carpenter and Kim Kartrashian. Some hint at celebrity and location for a double whammy, such as Bin Diesel, found on a petrol forecourt, and near to the cenotaph sits Binston Churchill.
Possibly Andy’s favourite, he says, is one that has become “weathered over the years”. Covered in moss, it is a mix of natural yellow and green. The name: Budgerigarbage – after the tropical bird.


Trash Talk
For all the jesting, it could be said that Bins of Congleton provides a useful public service.
Litter is associated with concerns for safety, poorer mental wellbeing, and lack of civic pride; it’s on record that people avoid renting or buying a house in commonly littered areas, and businesses are less likely to invest there; plus loose litter endangers wildlife and public health. And yet, almost half of all adults in the UK admit to littering. Andy hopes he’s playing a part in reducing this behaviour locally.
“Bins of Congleton is telling everybody where all the bins are and what they look like.” Making them objects of fun, he suggests, means people are more likely to notice them and put their rubbish in the right place.
An Unofficial Refuse Officer
“I never set out to be that advocate,” Andy admits. But that’s the downside to all this: some people mistakenly believe him to be a spokesperson for the council’s refuse services.
There’s been plenty of occasions where people read a bit in the paper, and they’ll think I’m part of the town council and I’m absolutely not.
That doesn’t stop them getting on touch to tell him when a bin is overflowing, and that they’d appreciate it being emptied. Or when one is damaged or has fallen off its post and is uselessly laying on the ground. Once, a wooden bin in a local beauty spot was set on fire; Andy soon heard the news.
In keeping with Bins of Congleton generally, he takes this in good humour, recognising that the concerns people raise show how the community is taking on some of the responsibility for keeping their town and local environment litter-free.
The Cost of Littering
The town council can probably do with the help. With a commitment to empty public bins daily, the authorities in Congleton are likely already maxed out without having to collect discarded litter as well. As a comparison, Bedford Borough Council claims that emptying a single litter bin just once a week costs them £536.96.
Congleton sits in the jurisdiction of Cheshire East, which in 2026 reduced household waste collection from fortnightly to once every three weeks. As LocalGov reported, this is part of the council’s plans “to reduce spending by £100m over the next four years”. Such moves are being felt throughout the UK, where municipal budgets are being stretched as central government pulls back on funding. Warwick District Council, for example, has had to start charging residents for household bins as it can no longer afford to subsidise them completely. And this is in an area that spent just 7% of council tax on waste disposal in 2008/09 – in Cheshire, it was 12.4% (although still low compared to other regions).
But reducing the rate of organised waste disposal to cut costs could be a false economy if it means people turn to fly-tipping and littering instead. Keep Britain Tidy claims that clearing costs the UK as much as £1 billion a year. It’s local councils that pick up the bill.
Let’s Hear it for Bin Collections!
Thankfully, the frequent emptying of public bins is not likely to be a commitment decision-makers in Congleton will renege on, seeing as the local council issued a Town Centre Code of Conduct as recently as April 2025 reminding people to use the public refuse and recycling points.
Certainly, the messages Andy receives from concerned citizens has given him a new insight into the thankless and continuous task the authorities have of managing public amenities. But also, for how people use the bins.
There is an £80 charge for anyone caught littering, but when people try to do the right thing and find the bin overflowing, that seems a little unfair. “It’s really easy to blame people and say they’re throwing litter on the ground. It’s quite often not the case. It could be that it’s the wrong sized bin for the location.”

The Public Bin Rating System
That’s a good point. How do authorities decided where a bin goes, or what size of bin should be there?
Andy doesn’t have the answers to that. But he does have information that could be useful to the council’s planning.
Early doors, Andy introduced a rating system. “I thought it might be a bit of fun creating fact files for each bin and marking them on criteria.” It’s what he calls “the five Ps”:
- Personality – the more character a bin has, the higher it scores. Points for humour, “style and originality” and adding “a bit of warmth” to the town.
- Pristine – a clean bin is a happy bin… or at least one that makes people more likely to go near it. Scored for quality of maintenance, frequency of emptying, etc.
- Placement – does the aesthetic match the surroundings? For example, fun styles in playgrounds and sober receptacles in graveyards.
- Popularity – how much a bin is used says a lot about whether the location has been well chosen. As the website says: “If it was gone, would it be missed?”
- Performance – very much the measure of structural integrity. “Does it do what it should do?” Is it easy to use, does it retain rubbish reliably, do all the moving parts function, is it secure from raiding foxes…?
Laying Waste to the Competition
Each category carries marks out of five, Andy tells us. “There are only two or three bins out of the 150 in Congleton that have managed to get a full 25 out of 25. It’s rare. I’m pretty tough with my marking system.”
The scores are published online. People get quite impassionate about it. Debate often ensues, even if it is tinged with humour.
On occasions, Andy does share this data with the council. If a bin is constantly overflowing, for example, he hopes scores on performance, placement, and “pristineness” could help inform waste services where more frequent refuse collections could be beneficial, or simply where more bins are needed to keep litter under wraps. Not that he ever expects them to respond.


A Laugh for Wellbeing
At a time when the UK threatens to impose a social media ban for young people because of the alleged harm it poses, it is refreshing to be reminded that some good can come from the democratisation of the digital space.
For Andy, the bins are a source of pride, giving his hometown character, and he’s happy to share that with the world. He compares this to Manchester’s Trafford Centre – a large and well-known shopping centre – where the bland, identikit features could be any mall in any city in any country. “Everything is identical: all the bins, all the benches look the same. It’s quite a clinical, cold environment. Whereas I think the bins give Congleton a sense of place.” Some people visit just to see them.
The popularity of Bins of Congleton has also allowed him to do a great deal of social good.
The Serious Side: Support for Charity
Staff from Visyon, a Congleton-based youth mental health charity, got in touch with Andy to express their appreciation for the example he’s setting. “I suppose it aligned with a lot of their messaging.” Getting out and about is good for physical and mental wellbeing, and the charity has found it useful to have a social media star posting about the places the local young people recognise and relate to, encouraging them to search for the various bins themselves.
On the back of this, Andy started selling a range of merchandise – mugs, tote bags, t-shirts, and posters – from which all proceeds support the charity. The 2025 and 2026 wall calendars both sold out – about 400 copies each year. Not a bad outcome from snapping public bins.
Andy now has tentative plans to draft a self-guided walking route – a treasure hunt for some of the bins. “I believe in people not feeling isolated,” he explains, and this would be a way of them “just getting out there” into the fresh air and having chance encounters with other people. “If you need half an excuse to take part in something, then this could be it.”

Straight Outta Congleton
Considering the modest beginnings, it’s remarkable to think of what Bins of Congleton has become. It clearly means so much to so many people. They’re invested. Whenever a new bin arrives in town – like one that materialised with the opening of a new café – Andy receives dozens of messages to let him know.
There are limits. Truth be told, Congleton is not a big place. Andy believes he has chronicled all the public bins now, but his followers still crave more. He has started going further afield to see how neighbouring towns and villages compare. “It’s fascinating and I still enjoy getting out there and seeing what each town has got to offer.”
And it seems he’s started a trend – although Andy modestly claims that the real credit goes to the people who had popularised uninspiring infrastructure before him, like roundabouts and pylons.
Still, it’s him that people contact when they want to start posting appreciation for bins in their own towns and cities.
The lovely thing is it will work in most places. I’ve had people from across the country ask if they can do this, and they don’t need to ask.
Bins of Midlothian in Scotland was the first spinoff. There have also been enquiries about replicating the idea – and scoring system – for other common public infrastructure, like benches and post boxes. “It is nice to think that people have copied it.”
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Embedded in the Neighbourhood
Andy suggests that part of the appeal of Bins of Congleton and its copycats may be that this is a scale at which the average person feels that we can make a difference. That might explain why Congletonians are quick to inform him of an overflowing or broken bin (despite the council making it so easy to report that officially).
Issues like international conflict and climate change are out of reach – we feel powerless and so are inert. If they got the BoC treatment, that could change. Andy believes that the trick is finding a way to connect with people, and that pivots on finding a way to relate. It’s a skill he picked up in his time working as a local radio presenter. Now he uses it to help people appreciate the simple but unique side of his town.
He, however, is not trying to change anything – especially the bins. “It’s quite the opposite,” he explains. “It’s more about preserving them really, rather than them all becoming the same and just looking a bit sterile. Because I think it is something that gives the community, gives the space that sense of pride and place.” The bins – and the humour – is what makes it Congleton.


