A troupe of finance bros are swapping the trading floor for the dance floor. Anna Moloney reports

When I meet Adam Lyons, dressed casually in a hoodie and jacket at the bottom of the Royal Exchange steps, he immediately apologises: “I’m not in my look!”. And indeed, waiting for Lyons at one of the busiest junctions in the Square Mile, I had had to stop myself several times from approaching other men for whom Lyons’ “look” – black trousers, white shirt and, most important of all, a gilet – is simply their everyday attire.

For Lyons though, his gilet has become the trademark not so much of the trading floor as the dancefloor, having garnered over 500m views online for videos in which he and his merry troup of finance bros groove in sync to modern pop hits around the City
of London.

Their first video to take off was a flashmob in 2024 in Liverpool Street Station to the then-viral “I’m looking for a man in finance”, and Lyons has been grooving in his gilet ever since. Lyons tells me he now dances in the Square Mile at least three times a week, often for content collaborations for big-name companies, with Charles Tyrwhitt, Farmer J and Reiss just some of the brands that have approached him to dance with their products.

I first came across the troupe myself while walking across the City for a meeting, only to be stopped in my tracks by the striking sight of an apparent finance bro hairwhipping on all fours to Miley Cyrus’s Bass Persuades upon the base of the Duke of Wellington statue. Lyons giggles when I tell him that was my introduction to his work.

‘I feel at home in the City’

Lyons, who grew up in Liverpool with a deep love for girl bands, said he always wanted to move to London and felt a particular draw to the financial district, which he coveted less for its career prospects than its drama.

“I’ve always thought this looked like a stage,” he says, gesturing to probably the City’s most iconic backdrop – the Royal Exchange forecourt where the neoclassical columns of the old stock exchange are flanked by new shiny blue skyscrapers – which serves as the main set piece for almost all Lyons’ videos. “There’s so much that looks like it could be for a concert set. I always try to use the statue and the stairs,” he says, adding that when he first saw a particular group of columns by the Bank of England he immediately thought of a specific Ariana Grande awards performance which he could recreate there.

It is captivating to talk to Lyons and see the City through his eyes, not as a place to get off the Tube and shuffle to one’s office (as many view it), but as a hub of awe and creativity. “This is my favourite place in all of London,” Lyons says without a hint of insincerity. When first coming to the City, it was naturally an intimidating place, but Lyons says he now feels at home in the financial district. “People really accept me here and I feel like I have a community around here.” The staff in Starbucks all know him and he says he regularly gets recognised from his videos.

Are finance bros now sexy?

Throughout our conversation, Lyons is at pains to emphasise his bit is not designed to mock financial workers, or their sense of style. “I just want to be clear that I’m not here to take the mick,” he says, adding how much he genuinely loves his gilet. “I actually find it really hot and sexy. It’s a smart look. It’s a classy look. Doesn’t everyone fancy a finance bro?”

That part may be up for debate, but it is true that finance bros are no longer derided as they once were.

In fact, in the past couple of years they seem to have gained an astonishing amount of cultural cachet, helped along by TV shows like Industry which have reglamorised the profession, as well as songs like “I’m looking for a man in finance” – a viral moment which felt a bit like a confessional of an up-until-then forbidden belief: bankers can be attractive.

Likewise, Lyons’ embrace by City-core brands like Farmer J, whose use of the dancing finance bros could be seen by some as poking fun at their own salad-crunching customer base, is also conversely testament to finance bros’ newly-earned clout, speaking to a quintessentially British style of self-deprecating irony that actually stems from a sense of superiority. After all, making fun of yourself requires a degree of self-confidence.

Even the Guildhall has hired Lyons and his dancing troupe as event entertainment, and when I ask if he’s ever been moved on by the City of London policy for causing an obstruction, he tells me he’s done a gig for them too: “They’re on my side!”

Lyons says the response to his dancing from the City has been overwhelmingly positive – both online and in real life from passersby, who regularly gather to form an impromptu live audience for him – and that he never feels self conscious when dancing, even for a sea of straight-faced financial workers.

Overall, he says he just wants to bring a bit of fun to the City, which he says is more colourful and free-spirited than it’s given credit for. “There have also been some comments on my videos saying we must all be gay. Me and my boys are all of different sexualities… actually like 50 per cent of my dancers are straight men and they’re dancing to the Katseye finale – they love it!”

The contrast between the buttoned (or quarter zipped) up look and the flamboyance of the dancing is obviously what’s made Lyons’ videos so captivating. Interestingly, he’s not the only one to be currently capitalising on it. Over in Japan, Toru Utsami, a 60-year-old management consultant, has over 655,000 followers on Instagram for his videos as the “dancing salaryman”, in which he eccentrically grooves solo through Tokyo’s financial district in a suit and tie.

The million dollar question for Lyons though – is he actually a finance bro? He dresses like one, he commutes like one, he works in the City every day, and when I ask
if he’s earning like one, he smiles coyly. We’ll count him among the ratpack then.