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Save us from the developers’ vision of an antiseptic London | Save us from the developers’ vision of an antiseptic London |
(about 4 hours later) | |
Last week I went to the Portobello Road in west London to meet some old chums, including Fielding, who lives nearby. What a change since I had my market stall there 40 years ago! And for the worse. Not that I want to sound like a stick-in-the-mud, and change can be marvellous, but sometimes we could do without it. Hampton Court hasn’t changed, and nobody minds that, but Portobello seems to be part of a horrible giant clean-up. | Last week I went to the Portobello Road in west London to meet some old chums, including Fielding, who lives nearby. What a change since I had my market stall there 40 years ago! And for the worse. Not that I want to sound like a stick-in-the-mud, and change can be marvellous, but sometimes we could do without it. Hampton Court hasn’t changed, and nobody minds that, but Portobello seems to be part of a horrible giant clean-up. |
A ghastly plan is afoot, to turn a large chunk of it into “an authentic, multi-use development” including “artisan retail” and “maker-space outlets”. Oh save us from such idiotic language, which always heralds some deathly, sterile monstrosity or other, like Westfield, and will clear out everything that we were fond of, or that had what we used to call “character”. | |
It isn’t “character” to the developers. It’s rabble, riff-raff, weirdos and anything untidy. That’s all going. It’s been nearly all cleared out of Covent Garden, Chinatown, Camden Lock, and any other tatty corners in up-and-coming areas of London, where some greedy developer can trouser a few squillion. | |
Now it’s coming to Portobello in a big way. It’s been creeping up since I was there with my tailor’s trimmings, on the corner of Golborne Road, next to the cinema memorabilia and book stall, the bric-a-brac, the vintage hats and frocks and the pile of anything from the totter’s barrow. That lot’s gone now, and the Electric Cinema, the Tabernacle and the eateries have been tarted up – the posh end has spread almost from top to bottom. | Now it’s coming to Portobello in a big way. It’s been creeping up since I was there with my tailor’s trimmings, on the corner of Golborne Road, next to the cinema memorabilia and book stall, the bric-a-brac, the vintage hats and frocks and the pile of anything from the totter’s barrow. That lot’s gone now, and the Electric Cinema, the Tabernacle and the eateries have been tarted up – the posh end has spread almost from top to bottom. |
Soon everywhere will be like our kitchen surfaces. Not a single germ or speck of grubbiness or disorder allowed. The next generation will have built up no immunity, and if they meet a rebel, an eccentric or some mess, they’ll be completely floored. But perhaps I’m panicking uneccessarily, and we won’t have to live in a world of giant malls or mimsy Garden Bridges. | Soon everywhere will be like our kitchen surfaces. Not a single germ or speck of grubbiness or disorder allowed. The next generation will have built up no immunity, and if they meet a rebel, an eccentric or some mess, they’ll be completely floored. But perhaps I’m panicking uneccessarily, and we won’t have to live in a world of giant malls or mimsy Garden Bridges. |
“Yes you will”, says Fielding hopelessly. “You can’t change things. It’s going to happen. Too many people love it.” | “Yes you will”, says Fielding hopelessly. “You can’t change things. It’s going to happen. Too many people love it.” |
Probably because there’s nothing else left for them to love. | Probably because there’s nothing else left for them to love. |
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