You LOVE that dirty water, and Boston IS your home. Here in the Hub, nothing defines you more than the 'hood in which you choose to (or can't help but) live. Thus, the occasional trash talking of said neighborhoods (even your own) is a pastime on par with watching the Red Sox and complaining about the T. With that in mind, here’s a breakdown of some of Boston’s most
mocked beloved locales:
Welcome to Allston/Brighton, where you'll find un-ironic skinny jeans, appropriately scuffed Ramones hoodies, and "please notice me" piercings as far as the eye can see through steampunk goggles. Quirky and artsy (now a word: quartsy) cafes, bars, restaurants, shops, and random businesses keep the 21-year-old-Kierkegaard-reading-bike-messenger swarms occupied before band practice. Assuming they don’t make the mistake of accidentally stumbling into the longtime locals at Irish Village.
File under "ironic": thanks to some spare dirt long ago, what was once a mosquito-infested garbage swamp (malaria = not great) is now home to Boston’s premiere shopping district, multiple historic landmarks, the lion’s share of bars and restaurants, and street-after-street of unaffordable, mixed-use real estate. Hopefully you enjoy wading through slow-moving tourist herds on Boylston and waifish boutique nomads dragging yippy lap dogs on Newbury.
Is your wardrobe Orvis-, Barbour-, and/or LL Bean-centric? Do you silently wish your street was wider to better accommodate your 1994 Volvo and/or Saab, but would never actually say something about it, because that’s the Brahmin way? Do you know what the Union Club is? If you answered “yes” to these questions, then you live on Beacon Hill.
Suspiciously suburban with serious mansions (I’m looking at you, John Henry). They’re very quiet over there, quietly enjoying their quiet cafes and even quieter bookstores, and admittedly pretty sweet movie theaters. In fact, this place could be a whole lot cooler, but it’s on the damn Green Line ("Next stop: two feet from this stop…").