Generation rent: why I’ll never live on Britain’s (third) most expensive street

My worst nightmare is coming true: the neighbourhood is gentrifying

I come home to find a parcel on the kitchen table wrapped in parchment. “There goes the neighbourhood,” I mutter to myself, knowing what terror lies within. A spelt loaf.

This isn’t any ordinary spelt loaf. The sticker sealing it tells me it’s from the new store a few doors down. For weeks we’d peer in at the builders, wondering what the shop might become. A butcher? A phone shop? We could understand those. Instead, it sells artisan bread and skateboards. My worst nightmare is coming true: the neighbourhood is gentrifying.