For my twenty-second birthday, Leo got me tickets to see Fran Lebowitz in the Bord Gáis. Unfortunately, the only night she was in Dublin was the night before election day. The mood was slightly hysterical. She tried make jokes about fitting immigrants in Wyoming, and fake tan, and men not knowing how to type. But really what she was telling us was if this man gets elected, I lose hope. My whole life, I’ve been hearing this so it didn’t shock me. Losing hope is almost a rite of passage. But she said something that changed the way I think about my life.
A man asked her, “Fran, Dublin is in a crisis right now. Not just with housing but culture as well. So many great venues, nightclubs and restaurants are closing down and artists can’t afford to live in the city anymore. What do we do?”.
I was really glad he asked that question because its the same question I’ve been asking myself for three years. With Dublin’s housing crisis (there are 10,000 homeless in the city), it can be difficult to find any good in the city. Knowing there are children living in hotels, knowing there are people living in the kitchen’s of restaurants, knowing that I am one family connection away of landing myself into a very precarious situation. I recently read a fantastic essay called "The Invisible Man" by Patrick Fealey which really emphasis the point that homelessness is always closer than we want to imagine, and Dublin does not give a fuck. Another WeWork built, a luxury golf club next to a Costa next to a Pret, next to a Milano’s. Cities are all slowly starting to become the same. Even the cool local places are all cool in the same hipster, vegan, gentrified way. All hanging plants and expensive prints for sale on the wall. Walking around Ranelagh, I could be in Brooklyn, or the 16th Arrondissement, or Notting Hill. I mean, not at all but in terms of nice-parks-cute-cafe-bar-with-neon-lights-and-18-euro-cocktails, it’s starting to all feel kind of…samey?
She replied with a story about moving to New York in the seventies, saying “The thing about New York in the seventies was that no-one could afford to live there either!” But we did anyway.”
She talked about how it is the people that make a city. If the artists leave and it’s only rich people left, then the city has lost its soul. After she said that, I can’t help but see Dublin’s soul everywhere I look.
When I got off the plane from Paris, me andLeo decided to go Anseo, where we’ve been frequenting lately. Once we got off the slow and cranky number 16 bus, we made a pitstop in Vision Ireland, the fashion backbone of poor college students, immigrants looking for cheap suits and old ladies looking for a bargain. I found a woollen dress, handmade I think. I asked the man at the counter if they did a student discount, immediately regretting it in case it looked cheap, the money does all go to charity after all. He charged me half price, giving me a knowing look. Being a college kid is really hard right now, the economy is fucked and I have zero savings. I felt guilty for buying that dress, especially since I had just arrived back from Paris. But this man’s gesture reminded me that people get it, money is tight but we still deserve nice things. I don’t think that would have happened in Paris, too many rich people live there.
There’s a lot of bullshit in Dublin (like…a lot). I’ve been to a million alright over-priced coffee shops, and chain bookshops with a BookTok section and a club that has a DJ playing whose name is also a food and bodily function (erect milk or some shit). But once go outside of the immediate city centre, there’s so much to feast on. I recently when to a pub called The Barber’s Bar where they had the Kinnegar Jackrabbit ginger beer on tap, and in the corner, a small Tokyo kitchen and an aggressive “WE ARE DOG FRIENDLY” sign.
There’s also the farmer’s market in Herbert Park every Sunday where you can get the most amazing, spicy chai tea and cheap, beautiful, seasonal veg. You can buy hand knit hats and bunches of flowers (but only if you bring cash). There’s ducks in the pond and so many friendly dogs and babies and couples kissing (although if you throw a stick for them, you have to go and fetch it yourself). Every single person at the market seems slightly hungover, everyone is quiet and munching away and squinting in the winter sunlight.
One of the best discoveries I ever made was that liking movies can be considered a full-on hobby and it was thanks to Dublin that I got to explore this. Both the IFI and The Lighthouse cinema are beacons for me. Not only do they expose me to movies and directors that the Omniplex in Waterford could never imagine in it’s wildest dreams, they also are places where I can just exist and love art. I never feel more like a sexy, mysterious writer than in the smoking area of the IFI with a massive glass of red wine and my journal. Getting to watch Practical Magic in the Lighthouse and then listen to a lecturer in Folk History from UCD give a talk afterwards about Witchcraft and Feminism is something that I’m so grateful for. I went completely alone and totally nerded out and it’s no small thing to feel safe and comfortable enough to go somewhere alone and just enjoy your niche hobby. It was always so much harder when I was a teenager, living in a small town.
It was only this year that I went to The George for the very first time, and although I’m not really into clubbing, it is far and away the best club in Dublin (maybe that’s a basic take but idgaf). Being around a bunch of grown adults being very silly and hyper is a situation I love finding myself and there’s none of the pretentiousness that you find in other clubs in The George. People scream when Chappel Roan starts playing, doing a tequila shot is never not the movie, and being a bad dancer is almost as good as being a good dancer.
International companies are truly doing their best to homogenise cities. It’s not easy being the little guy trying to go up against the big guy (especially when the government taxes the little guy at 13% and the big guy at 2%). And these places in Dublin are stubbornly refusing to be beaten down by power and money. History and culture have more weight than companies want to believe. We can’t all flee to cottages in the countryside or Southeast Asia (although both are very much on the cards for me). Some of us have to stay and fight and create something genuinely unique, something that could only ever exist in Dublin. I tip my hat to them.
Let me know in the comments what your favourite place in Dublin is!!
Lots of Love
Libs xx