I have lived in East Arlington, Texas my entire life. It has blossomed from a place of street stragglers to a cozy quiltwork of shops and cute little cafes unimaginable to those of us who grew up there when the only paved sidewalk along the road was belonged to our main drag.
Most of the stately homes in East Arles, as we call it, owe their opulence to the oil industry that enrichened this part of the state and almost literally paved the streets with gold in the mid-1940's. If you'd like to see the consequences of falling into gold-won wealth, East Arlington is your primo destination for rich people slumming.
It's home to those nabobs you'd like hob nob with - or do their laundry for tips and dozens, depending on your acclimation. In other words, this is where the wealthy white folk live, but keep to themselves for the most part. Think Richard Cory without the tragic ending.
As of late, the lucky ones among the swelling creative class have taken to nesting in these homes like all-too familiar pigeons of New York and Boston from whence they came. They come here, paint our lovely old homes bright purple and green, and take with them the taste for Thai food and horchata they developed while living in writers' slums (financed by their lawyer spouses, of course) they loved back home. Overcrowding in this neighborhood means 5 per households.
If you'd like to visit our well-heeled neck of the woods, take Highway 360 down to Matlock Road, and then head to any corner of the place. Perhaps you'd like to tour our stately homes in the northeast, or have a nip of coffee at one of our fine roasters. Maybe just a little indie music will do, you little Big Star-loving graphic design fans.
Southern Hospitality and culture is on display on many of our numerous streets. Pop into a bakery and be greeted by the spitting image of your great-grandmother when she was 20, while also sampling the morning croissants or exotic Mexican osos our state is known for. Because we have rich people, we sample. Our businesses would die without it. Kind of like Richard Cory.
Little known fact: Texas native Elliott Smith once visited East Arlington. He threw up here and subsequently threatened to kill himself by hurling himself in the St. Lawrence fountain. He hadn't figured out the art of self-immolation yet. Our fallen saint of self-loathing is still commemorated by barista tributes in the cafes that line our nice little streets.