Where the Ugliest Face Wins: Inside Britain's Bizarre but Beloved World Gurning Championships

Every year in the sleepy Cumbrian town of Egremont, beauty takes a back seat to the bizarre. Here, in one of Britain's strangest traditions, men, women and children twist, scrunch and distort their faces in a battle to be crowned the World Gurning Champion.

The spectacle, part of the centuries-old Egremont Crab Fair, turns ordinary people into living caricatures as they grimace through wooden horse collars, a custom that dates back to the 13th century. What started as a rustic fairground diversion has become an internet sensation, with clips of wild contortions and jaw-dropping expressions going viral every September.

This year's champion, Ryan Barton, pulled faces fierce enough to secure the 2025 crown. Grinning after his win, Barton dedicated his victory to his late uncle, Peter Jackman, a local gurning legend whose unforgettable expressions once made him a town hero.

'It's just good fun,' Barton said. 'We all take it seriously, but only up to a point. You can't gurn properly if you're worried about looking silly.'

In Egremont, looking silly isn't a problem, it's an art form.

A Face for the Ages

The competition's rules are disarmingly simple: contestants stick their heads through a horse collar—known locally as a 'braffin'—and pull the ugliest face possible. Cheeks are folded over teeth, eyes rolled back, jaws twisted into improbable contortions.

The result, to outsiders, may seem grotesque. To locals, it's art.

'Gurning is about control, not chaos,' explained long-time organiser Lesley Rogers. 'A good gurner knows how to hold a face, stretch it, exaggerate it. You've got to make people laugh without scaring the children.'

This year's women's title went to Lynn Kelly, while Kendall Lister took home the junior crown. The reigning champion, 19-time winner Tommy Mattinson, missed the event due to illness—though his name still drew applause from the crowd.

From Fairground Fun to Global Fascination

The World Gurning Championships are held during the Egremont Crab Fair, a festival dating back to 1267, when King Henry III granted the town a charter to hold an annual harvest celebration. What began with apple-throwing contests and traditional music has, over centuries, evolved into a mix of rural sports, parades, and, of course, competitive face-pulling.

In the social-media age, gurning has become a cultural export. Clips from the 2025 competition racked up millions of views on TikTok and Instagram within days. Audiences abroad marvelled at how proudly Britain embraces its eccentricities. One viral comment read, 'Only the British could turn making ugly faces into a national sport—and make it look charming.'

The Philosophy of Gurning

For participants, gurning isn't mockery, it's liberation. Many describe it as a way to break free from vanity and self-consciousness. 'We spend all year trying to look good for cameras,' said a spectator named Dave Whitmore. 'This is the one day you can look ridiculous and be celebrated for it.'

The irony is that the gurners' distorted expressions are often harder to maintain than a smile. Physiologists have compared it to facial yoga: intense, brief, and physically exhausting. Contestants practise in mirrors for weeks, perfecting every wrinkle and twitch.

And there's pride in tradition. The Egremont Crab Fair remains volunteer-run, drawing crowds from across the UK and beyond. Local businesses thrive on the influx, and proceeds help sustain the small town's community programmes.

Ugly but Beautiful

To outsiders, gurning might look like a carnival of grotesques. But to those who gather at Egremont each year, it's a reminder that joy doesn't depend on perfection. 'It's about being yourself, in the ugliest and best possible way,' said Rogers.

In a world obsessed with filters and flawless selfies, perhaps the World Gurning Championships make a deeper point. Here, imperfection isn't just accepted—it's the whole reason to celebrate.