When everyone from Babs to Britney Spears is constantly filming in your neighbourhood, and everyone you go past looks like they’ve dressed from Oxfam in the dark, you know It’s All Gone Too Far. And so it is, I fear, with Dalston : last year, I was a bit pleased that not only had drug addicts stopped shitting on my doorstep, but a few nice coffee shops had opened up. Now I have totally had enough : every other building is now full of mismatched furniture out of skips, selling overpriced flat white, and buying in croissants from the pastry depot in New Cross.
I always try and give them a bit of (unasked-for, unwelcome) feedback : these cafe newbies : I won’t be going in the one in Beyond Retro again : those unnecessary paper cups really annoyed me. Seeing a woman drinking out of two paper cups at once made me think, though. Perhaps I have got it wrong, trying to reduce my carbon footprint (got rid of car, I am Hackney Box-Bike woman!) : maybe environmentalists should really be driving around in Hummers, eating lamb every day, buying new pants from Primark instead of washing them etc etc.
Thing is ; there is always somewhere grimy and real when places get so trendy you can’t even go to the bus stop without your gorge rising, and right now, that place is South Tottenham. I moved back here from Shacklewell last year, and I do feel quite fond of the old place : and now its even got a bit of riot-kudos. From my house, I can practically see the estate where Wretch 32 used to live when he was still called Jamal, and I found, while googling for images, this lovely set of Nicobobinus photos called Tottenham Tourist Board : beautiful grime : http://www.flickr.com/photos/nicohogg/920369497/in/set-72157623833520472/
Now, can someone Please open a nice cafe, with nice music and nice cake, within five minutes walk from my flat. Stamford Hill, Fairholt Road Shtetl, Seven Sisters Bridge : any of those will do!