They say Portland is war-ravaged. As I sipped my iced pumpkin latte, strolling past historic Victorians and boutiques selling $300 clogs, I had to ask…
War-ravaged…by what? Gentrified minimalism and too many options for artisanal cheese?
On NW 23rd, the only thing in ruins is my willpower. I went in for toothpaste at Zupans and came out with a block of truffle cheddar, a ceramic soap dish made by someone named Sage, and a sense of calm I can only describe as “suburban witch chic.”
They say it’s chaos. But I see women in Eileen Fisher cardigans debating olive oil varieties. I see dogs, so many dogs, most of whom eat better than I do.
If there’s a battle here, it’s over parking. Or trying to leave Powell’s with only one book. And I couldn’t help but wonder…
If this is war, where do I enlist?
#WarRavagedPortland