Saint Andrew's Hall Bag Policy

You know that little jolt of panic you get right before a big night out? The one that hits as you’re patting your pockets, wondering if you left your keys in the other jeans? That’s nothing compared to the bag policy at Saint Andrew’s Hall. It’s like the bouncer has a secret, highly specific grudge against anything bigger than a pack of gum.

I’ve learned this the hard way. Picture this: you’re walking down the street, feeling like a rock star, your trusty crossbody bag full of essentials—chapstick, a granola bar, and your phone that’s at exactly 13% battery. You get to the door, and the security guard gives you a look that says, “You’re about to experience a logistical nightmare.”

The Bouncer’s Yardstick

Saint Andrew’s Hall has a “no bags over 4.5” x 6.5” rule. That’s smaller than a standard piece of paper. It’s roughly the size of a particularly lean halved avocado. If your bag is bigger than that, you’re either turning around, or you’re ponying up $10 for a locker outside.

I once saw a girl argue for five minutes that her clutch was a “fashionable wristlet,” not a purse. The bouncer just stared at her with the patience of a saint (pun absolutely intended) and said, “Ma’am, if you can fit a whole sandwich in there, it’s a bag.” She did not get in without paying for a locker.

Why Is This a Thing?

Look, I get it. Big bags are a pain at shows. You’re packed in like sardines at a high school dance, and someone’s giant tote bag is basically a battering ram to your ribs. Plus, it’s a security thing. Saint Andrew’s is old-school—it’s a historic venue with narrow hallways and a mosh pit that doesn’t need extra obstacles.

st-andrews-hall-01 - St. Andrew's Hall at UBC

But here’s the real kicker: the policy applies to every single bag. Do you have a camera bag? Nope. A backpack for a day of sightseeing? Absolutely not. Even those cute little drawstring bags you got free from a 5K run? They’ll make you check it. It’s like the venue decided, “We are anti-carrying anything that requires a second strap.”

How I’ve Learned to Roll

The first time I went, I showed up with a fanny pack that I thought was obviously small enough. The security guard pulled out a little cardboard cutout—literally a pre-measured rectangle—and held it against my bag. It was too tall by a quarter of an inch. I had to walk across the street to a CVS, buy a ridiculous disposable poncho just to get a plastic bag, and then stuff my fanny pack into my jacket pockets.

Saint Andrew’s Hall – Detroit’s Legendary Live Music Venue - Detroit

Now, I’ve got a system. I bring nothing. My phone goes in my front pocket. My ID and a single credit card slip into my sock. My keys are tied to a shoelace that I loop through a belt loop. It feels ridiculous, like I’m a spy on a budget, but it works. I walk through those doors feeling like a ghost—zero baggage, zero fees.

The Locker Gambit

If you do have a bag, you have to use their locker service across the street. It’s a little shop that looks like it was built in 1985 and hasn’t been touched since. The guy will hand you a key on a giant plastic keychain that makes you feel like you’re in a summer camp movie. It cost me $10 last time, and I spent the whole show worrying that the key would fall out of my pocket during a pit song.

Saint Andrew's Hall: Multi-Use Venue for Private Events in Detroit

Pro tip: don’t bring anything you can’t replace. I saw a girl lose her vintage Kate Spade bag at the locker because she forgot which number it was. She spent the entire show sobbing into a group hug while the opener played. A true tragedy.

The Unofficial Rules

Here’s the thing—the bag policy is like a secret handshake. Once you know it, you’re in the club. You’ll spot the rookies a mile away: they’re the ones holding a ten-dollar bill and a disappointed expression at the door. The veterans are the ones with nothing but a car key and a phone, walking past the line like it’s a Tuesday brunch.

So, if you’re heading to Saint Andrew’s for a show, here’s your plan: wear pants with deep pockets. Leave the cute purse at home. Embrace the pocket-only lifestyle. And if you forget? Just remember: that $10 locker fee is basically the venue’s way of saying, “Better luck next time, bag-haver.” It’s annoying, it’s weird, and honestly, it’s kind of funny. You’ll laugh about it later—over a drink, while you’re still shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, free from the burden of a bag. Welcome to Detroit.