Coming back to the 'hood

Over the summer my office moved locations. We went from a quiet, primarily residential and posh area, to a VERY different one closer to downtown. I already described our really cool, beautifully renovated cookie factory building here.

The thing is, this neighborhood is very familiar to me, since I've lived there from 1998 to the end of 2000, from the end of my undergraduate degree to right when I left for my long European stay. Going back there every day is very, very peculiar, all at once like I've never been there and like I never left. When I first moved in, it was just beginning a big transformation, from a poor, rundown place to one that people with money were rediscovering, because of its proximity to downtown, to the wonderful Atwater Market, to the canal with all its abandoned factories and water views, exactly those who make such a great transition into fantastic lofts and condos. People in the know were saying that it was the next big thing, a hidden gem, and this made me feel so proud and ahead of my time.

Ten years later, both the neighborhood and my perspective have changed (funny how passing by my old apartment every day, as much as I used to like it, makes me realize I'd never live in such a hole again! And I didn't understand then why the BFs of some of my friends didn't like them coming to my place at night, but I kinda do, now). Everything is indeed a little more gentrified, vacant lots have virtually disappeared, and you see people wearing suits, expensive cars, and shops to tend to them. But I'm surprised that it remains a fundamentally mixed neighborhood, and that the negative effect people were fearing (that the original -read, poor, non-condo crowd- inhabitants would be ousted after being priced out) has not really happened. Most of the humble shops are still there, and so are the colorful characters. It's gritty, it refuses to be categorized, it's both naive and blasé, and it makes it all very interesting and even endearing.

Succession of windows on the main commercial artery: sad-looking dollar store, 50s-style greasy spoon dinner complete with big jars of pickles and marinated red peppers as decor, money transfer place, fine wine shop, hair salon that looks as inspiring as a dentist's waiting room, irresistible cupcake shop I patronized for my wedding, antique store, sleazy massage parlor, fancy, pricey pizza place, old key-making place, super hip Thai takeout restaurant, another retro antique store, tired, faded place where they sell work uniforms, really cool and authentic British pub where we always go for happy hour...

Signs: "Bakery. Pastries. The best chicken in town!" "We're the true dreads experts." "Handmade soaps. Just so you know, we keep no cash in premises." "Caribbean drinks. We deliver!"

Sights: humongous crates of overflowing pumpkins at the Market. Panhandlers lining up in front of McDonalds. Elderly people working in a community garden. Group of people from Haitian community standing on porch in front of church, all dressed up to the nines in hats, gloves and colorful, colorful outfits... Teenage lovebirds loudly fighting like it is the end of the world by the metro station, then ostensibly making up.

Smells: it has changed so much... Ten years ago it smelled like tobacco and flour, since two huge plants edged each side of the neighborhood. The tobacco plant has been transformed into condos, and the Robin Hood flour plant is still there, but appears largely inactive. Nowadays it smells mostly like restaurant grease, and perhaps a little mold coming from the old-school shops.

Fashion inspiration: girl in cropped leather jacket, white mini-skirt, mustard yellow tights, and slouchy boots. Other girl with stylish bob in retro navy full skirt, 70s-style workshirt, and exquisite red peep-toe wedges with black polka dots on them... Chic woman with sequined leggings and purple platform shoes, blond pony tail without a hair out of place...