The first indicator was the sudden appearance of a farmers’ market a few years ago. But when Pilates studios and small free libraries started popping up in my suburb of Beaconsfield recently, I knew the gentrification was well under way.
You know where you live is upscaling when hipster husbands happily fill crocheted shopping bags with overpriced organic produce while munching on homemade kale cookies. My working-class hamlet’s upward trajectory was assured once designer dogs started to replace the marauding mutts.
Fremantle Farmers’ Market, set up at Bruce Lee Reserve in the heart of Beaconsfield, is packed every Sunday.Credit: Fremantle Farmers' Market
Beaconsfield is only a short bike ride to the South Fremantle cafe strip, South Beach and the port city, so it was just a matter of time before it shed its blue-collar charm.
When we first moved into the 6162 postcode more than 16 years ago, there wasn’t a single McMansion in the street. Now our quaint, ramshackle 1960s cottage has slowly been dwarfed by shiny, two-storey, white boxes.
Thankfully several lush gum trees, home to quirky birdlife, have avoided the chop.
While some of the new abodes are architecturally uninspiring, the revamp has brought something wonderfully unexpected: a tranquillity and quietness that is oddly comforting.
However,........