Welcome to Allston Proper!

We’d like to say hello and use this post to tell you why three Allston residents living in apartments with cold water, bad water pressure, loud foreign-alien neighbors, and a prominent gust that flows from living room to kitchen decided to create a blog whose name glorifies our less-than-bourgeois enclave.

First, we despise titles like Allston Rock City and Brawlston. We lead quieter lives than your gang-initiating, frat-boy neighbors. You’ll never hear us chanting Greek or banging a keg of Natty Ice off the steps up to our apartment. No, you’ll probably hear us listening to Goldfrapp, Joni Mitchell, or Fleetwood Mac. You may even hear us playing movies like Out of Africa, Wicker Park, or Basquiat.

We also do a lot of dancing, which angers the people below us (We know; they’ve banged on the floor.), and we’ve spent a night in Beth Israel after drinking too much, so it’s not as if we’re 21 going on 100.
And we know a lot of people who do, too. Actually, all the people we know lead similar lives (except for the hospital incident). They venture out at night; they drink Jack Daniels and listen to good music; they’re well dressed and don’t look like American Apparel coke clones.

In other words, we and the people we know live in Allston Proper.

To give attribution where it’s necessary, we’re taking a page from the founding of the New Yorker, in that we’re writing for our friends, or people we could imagine being friends with—those with similar interests and inclinations.

That said, we’ll write for residents of Allston Proper (Allstonians), and not for those of Brawlston; they already have zines, and Nylon—they don’t need us. While we’re busy with jobs, classes, and internships, we’ll try to post regularly about topics we like and think you might as well, but suggestions are always welcome.


Enjoy,
Jeremy, Joe, & Alana