On Gowanus, new construction, and fear of living/working (in a stock photo version of life)

Good morning, Monday. Twas a lovely weekend here in the Brooklyn- loved going to the Gowanus Open Studios and checking out the vibes at all the artist studios who opened their doors to the public and gave a glimpse into what a creative community can look like in this era- when being an artist in New York is far from easy when it comes to fiscal survival.  When I think about what’s the worst thing about the “new” New York, I always come back to the fact that a certain type of creative class can no longer make it work here, even though we need them so badly to stir that awesome sauce of flavor we all cherish so much.

Gowanus is a study in gentrification- once declared a toxic dump due to its polluted canal, Gowanus is now a Superfund site- and as the stroller brigade discovers the promise of more space for less money than Manhattan (well sorta), the disconnect between what the neighborhood used to be and what it has become is more palpable than ever.

And since David and I are grown ups, we inevitably can't help but engage in some real estate porn, and when we see an open house, we're all about our voyeuristic tendencies when it comes to seeing what a million dollars can get you, or $7,000 in rent. Yes, I said $7,000. But no fee. So there's that.

So as we walked Khan and popped in and out of some decrepitly cool studio spaces, we also popped by a new development on Bond Street, called 365 Bond.  It's a benign enough cluster of new construction, with the bells and whistles the "young creative professional" now considers standard in this thing called work/life- a common area that serves as both a lobby and place to work, complete with black ping pong tables and a carefully curated selection of games like Connect Four (#retro). Plus the building boasts yoga and spin classes, and when we were there, there was a hot girl in white working out in the gym as if on cue. It was the best of times…

The apartments themselves are vanilla as could be. The kitchens are new but smallish and the rooms lack any character whatsoever. We wanted to check out the duplex model which ran for about $7,000- two floors of blank canvas with plenty of room for all of that West Elm furniture that will surely look mass chic in the rather large space. Sure the duplex felt homey in a suburban way, but a quick glance at the hashtag 365 Bond showed us everything we needed to know about the building- DJ parties with fellow residents, painting and pinot happy hours, and ladies in bikinis laying out on white canvas covered loungers. There was no real difference between this building and Soho House, and that's precisely what the cool kids want. Count me as an uncool kid then. This is one community I really did not want to be a part of- this vanilla tower full of toned pilates hotties and social media stalwarts who believe very much in their own hype. #shootme

I for one like buildings with character. I like exposed brick, charm, and creaky/cranky floors. I do love a modern kitchen and bath, but I need quirk to sweeten my life, not some generically overpriced prison vibe.  But fear not Instagram generation if you like something fakely communal- there are plenty of places to rock a floppy hat and romper and post wistfully from your balcony.  And though this may sound nice to some of you, I'd rather beat them than join the. Like, in the face. Hard. Repeatedly.

I found myself feeling so disgruntled after looking at the building, because to me Gowanus could have been the perfect study in affordable housing for creative types and young families looking for a New York that no longer exists- a place where artists and academics and workers could co-mingle, frequent the mom and pop businesses in the neighborhood, and thrive in a city that has always been out of reach when it comes to affordability, but has now become well past the point of insanity. I don't want my living space to be a lifestyle brand, I prefer to work from my sofa or local cafe than sit in a common area in some Restoration Hardware take on shared space, and I don't mind leaving my house to go to a spin or yoga class. I know, I know- I come from a different generation of New Yorkers but I felt so fucked off that Gowanus had a chance to be more of a place where artists can open their doors and New Yorkers can live somewhat comfortably- but that's just not the case- the city really blew it because dollar signs always win. Many elected DiBlasio on the promise of more affordable housing, but very few have seen the benefits of a mayor who cuts pizza with a fork and made many false promises and singed all of our hopes for a cheaper New York. (Yea, I voted for him too.) So as the buttoned nose power blonde named Courtney/Kelsey/Chelsea showed us around, I felt like starting a revolution. Or going back to bed. Either one really. And no, I don’t want to sit in a perfectly distressed leather club chair and take a selfie. No. No I don’t. I'll admit it's fascinating to see how developers are creating living spaces for the next generation of tenants- acknowledging the freelance class, the clubby tendencies, the need for full service buildings that not only give you a place to sleep, but one to work, tone, burn, and repeat.

Gowanus has a storied past of bootleggers, gangsters, and subversive types who made this formerly industrial neighborhood their home. Cut to now where toddlers munch on kale from the Whole Foods and young pros who made their money on Instagram feeds can sit comfortably in their Lululemon pants and work from Mac laptops where everyone is just like them. Ugh. I can't.

The bottom line? I don't want to live in a building that has its own hashtag, and I laugh to think about if the building I live in had its own- there'd be pictures of the Korean War vet who has lived here since after the war with his cane and Yankees cap, and pictures of the disgruntled dad who walks his Jack Russell in the morning to get away from his family. Oh and the nervous guy who just moved in who paces back and forth and smokes cigarettes. He'd be there for sure.

Yea I know there's a good bit of self-loathing in this post. I live in a fancy pants neighborhood in Brooklyn too and am no stranger to the glories of a Rag and Bone on your corner or a Barneys around the block. I have a blog and a healthy Instagram profile and barre so hard on the regs. But I still can't deal with anything devoid of character and I particularly get bummed when I think about the New York has been officially sucked out of the New York, and the Brooklyn is getting sucked out of the Brooklyn. I don't want to live in some hipster stock photo version of Brooklyn. 

But even though that struggle is real, I still continue to see that dappled light of goodness in happenings like the Gowanus Open Studios, where artists are keeping my dream alive of a city that is pulsing with creativity and promise and coolness. I just wish there was more of the open studio vibe and less of the open floor plan. Know what I mean, jellybean?

Cause that’s what’s up this figuring out work and life kind of Monday in the 718. Yours, in trying to be open minded. XO