Hipster horror as Williamsburg gentrifies

The Williamsburg Bridge. Photo / Bloomberg.

Jennifer Nelson gasped as she set foot inside the giant, spotlessly clean space that is the new Duane Reade chemist in New York's hip and bohemian neighbourhood of Williamsburg.

"It is huge. It is a kind of sterile feeling. This is not the kind of place that I want to shop," said the 32-year-old freelance writer as she looked at gleaming aisles of beauty products, a pharmacy counter and a beer fridge.

It might be seen as odd to have such a visceral reaction to Duane Reade, a chemist that seems to exist on every street corner in New York. But this is not just New York.

This is Williamsburg, perhaps the national capital for young "hipsters" trying to beat back the commercialism and standardisation that defines much of American day-to-day life.

It is a place that prides itself - and has won fame - for rejecting the malls and big business brands of the rest of America.

So for many inhabitants the new Duane Reade in the middle of the main drag of Bedford Avenue is not just a store offering cheap and convenient shopping. It is nothing less than an invasion of corporate America into their tranquil enclave of independent bohemians. It is, in short, the start of a battle for Williamsburg's soul.

In the safer, more non-corporate surrounding of the Blue Bottle coffee shop nearby, Nelson explained why she had founded a local campaign to boycott the Duane Reade store: "We simply do not need another chemist here. It is not just an urban issue. It is a capitalism issue."

Certainly the Blue Bottle is more typical of what New Yorkers - and much of America - associate with Williamsburg.

It is the opposite of a quick and easy chain store designed for modern convenience. Fresh coffee is painstakingly crafted by baristas who often sport the trendy moustaches and beards associated with hipsters. As customers sip their Guatemalan lattes, they can look on as workers unload and grind bags of coffee. It is independent, was founded in the hippie heaven of California's bay area and is also quite expensive. The coffee is, it has to be said, very good.

That is what Williamsburg is meant to be about, many residents say. During the past decade, the neighbourhood, which sits just over the East River from Manhattan, has transformed from a sleepy, poor residential area of Jewish, eastern European and Hispanic working-class immigrants to one where most denizens appear to have beards, piercings, lots of tattoos and belong to at least one band.

Most also tend to write a blog and spend all night drinking or involved in art projects. Sometimes that lifestyle is funded by middle-class parents. That has led to Williamsburg being relentlessly mocked by parts of the New York media. Gossip website Gawker lambasts hipsters and the neighbourhood they call their own in its typically brutal style.

When the New York Times covered the arrival of the Duane Reade on Bedford, Gawker put up a posting titled: "Horrible Williamsburg Residents Horrified by Arrival of Horrible Chain Stores."

But, beneath the bitchiness, there are real issues at stake. The new Duane Reade is part of a chain-store invasion; perhaps inevitable following the money the new youthful residents have brought in.

In a neighbourhood now dominated by giant, new and expensive apartment buildings, CVS - Duane Reade's main rival - is also building a store. The fast food chain Subway has opened on Bedford Ave, as has the American Apparel clothing chain. To cap it all, it is rumoured Starbucks may be coming next year, replacing a bagel shop. If that happens, the hipster apocalypse may be nigh.

No wonder many residents are angry. "When the American Apparel store opened is when I thought: 'Oh my God, the neighbourhood is over.' These big businesses have come in and the small businesses won't be able to afford the new higher rents," said Gil Roman, 33, who has lived here for seven years. Roman fits the bill for Williamsburg. He is a huge fan of local bands and lives with his artist boyfriend.

He surfs, parties in cool bars and does not like the corporate invasion of his home turf. "All of a sudden our little, quaint place is being infiltrated by the big brands."

Sadly for Roman and other youthful and trendy denizens, the story of neighbourhood change is one of the oldest in the Big Apple.

It has a simple plot that goes something like this: an old neighbourhood has cheap rents which attract artists. The artists spruce the place up. That attracts youthful newcomers. That attracts the bars, shops and restaurants the newcomers like.

The neighbourhood becomes cool. And safe. That attracts wealthier people, with families. The rents rise. Older inhabitants and original pioneers then leave and start again somewhere else. It happened to Soho, Tribeca and Greenwich Village in Manhattan in the 1970s and 1980s.

All were former centres for bohemians and are now are the haunt of expensive chain stores, luxury boutiques, A-list celebrities and eye-bleedingly high property prices.

"There is a cycle. There is a whole series of places that go through this problem. Now with Williamsburg, it has become the great place to be,"said Joshua Freeman, a professor of New York history at the City University of New York.

But the hipsters and young bohemians are not entirely innocent victims in the process of change. After all, before they arrived Williamsburg was a quiet, unassuming working class place with its fair share of problems but plenty of affordable housing.

Many of the old residents remain still attending the Polish, Ukrainian and Russian churches that dot the streets. Even on Bedford Avenue, a Polish diner still clings on amid rows of shops dominated by vintage clothing boutiques, vegetarian restaurants and coffee houses. The Jewish community too is still strong and frequently clashes with the new hipster element over things like bike lanes: of great interest to hipsters and of less fascination to Hassidic families.

"Gentrification by anyone is at best a mixed blessing for the working class and immigrants whose neighbourhood it was," Freeman said.

"They often get priced out of their neighbourhood and certainly their children do get priced out." Ironically, it is these older ethnic communities who would welcome the Duane Reades of the world, embracing the cheap prices chain stores bring and the convenience of getting their shopping done at one place.

But, whether you are an original inhabitant or a pioneering hipster or one of the wealthy new residents snapping up multi-million-dollar new apartments, there is one lesson that New York teaches all of its citizens in the end. "Cities and neighbourhoods change all the time. You can't freeze them. You don't want to create a sort of museum," Freeman said.

Which might be why Nelson is now leaving, heading to a different part of Brooklyn, with a better deal on rent. She laughs when asked whether the boycott of Duane Read she has organised will work.

"I know there is little we can do. I just educate myself about my choices and try to educate the people around me," she said.

She does not have too many regrets about saying goodbye. Her landlord is the same landlord who rented out the space to Duane Read. She knows he is just cashing in on a good opportunity. So too are those who have sold land to developers who have raised up towering apartment blocks, gleaming new properties which look down on the older, more modest family houses.

In fact, one such building now blocks the view from Nelson's bedroom. "I used to be able to see the Manhattan skyline from my window. Now, I can't."

In the neighbourhood

* Dapton record label - with its band Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings - are in the hood.

* Gangsters Al Capone and Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel called Williamsburg home.

* The movie Serpico starring Al Pacino, was based on the shooting of police officer Frank Serpico during a drug bust in 1971. The New York cop exposed corruption in the force.

- Observer