kitsilano, from hippies to high-rises: whose neighbourhood is this?

Part 1

I've been thinking about Vancouver's history, particularly Kitsilano, and how neighbourhoods change over time.

I recently watched a 1964 film about Vancouver's plans for urban renewal. It got me thinking about how we describe neighbourhoods, who gets to decide what needs improving, and what happens to the people who already live there.

Kitsilano was changing in the 1960s. Some older buildings were deteriorating, rental housing was becoming more common, and young people, students and hippies were moving in.

West Fourth Street became known as Love Street.

Not everyone was pleased.

Tom Campbell, Vancouver's mayor from 1966 to 1972, was openly hostile towards the hippie counterculture. He was also involved in property development, including Parkview Towers at 1450 Chestnut Street.

That building was controversial because of its height and size. It stood out dramatically from its surroundings, and for years there was very little nearby development of comparable scale.

Eventually, the neighbourhood changed again.

And again.

1450 chestnut: a little piece of my Vancouver history

I have a personal connection to this building.

I moved into 1450 Chestnut in 1997. I was looking for somewhere I could feel safe after some frightening experiences in other parts of Vancouver.

My rent was $630.

Over the years, I recorded it increasing to $825 in 2004 and $925 in 2007.

Think about that.

I wasn't looking for a luxury lifestyle. I wanted somewhere to live, somewhere I could feel comfortable, and somewhere I could afford.

That building was originally associated with housing for seniors and students, another interesting part of its history that deserves further investigation.

Today, finding an affordable apartment in Kitsilano is an entirely different proposition.

Rents have skyrocketed, and the neighbourhood that once attracted young people, artists, students and people looking for an alternative way of life has become increasingly expensive.

Who gets to stay?

and then came another transformation

Look across the water today.

Sen̓áḵw is rising on Squamish Nation land, with an eventual plan for 11 residential towers and more than 6,000 rental homes.

The first three towers are already changing the skyline.

The first tower was reported to be 77% occupied in November 2026.

The development is an important Indigenous-led economic project. The Squamish Nation has a right to pursue economic independence, create housing and build wealth for future generations. That history and that ownership matter.

But we can recognize those rights and still ask questions about the development.

Who is actually renting these apartments?

Who can afford the market rents?

How many homes are occupied by Squamish Nation members, other Indigenous residents, newcomers, temporary foreign workers and people moving from elsewhere in Vancouver?

What are the income requirements?

Who manages the buildings, and how are rents determined?

The development has market rentals as well as below-market homes, but we need to understand the actual distribution rather than assume that thousands of new rental homes automatically mean thousands of affordable homes.

And what happens to the surrounding neighbourhood?

eleven towers and a changing waterfront

The eventual development is expected to accommodate up to 9,000 residents.

That's an enormous addition to an already busy part of Vancouver.

What about transportation?

What about pedestrian safety?

What about cycling infrastructure?

I use the surrounding area, and the bike path is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for me. More people, more activity and more congestion require thoughtful planning. A protected cycling route on a planning document doesn't automatically mean people feel safe using it.

The infrastructure needs to keep pace with the development.

We also need to talk about public access, parks, green space and the cumulative impact of all these new residents.

These are not arguments against housing.

They are questions about whether we are planning complete communities or simply building residential towers and hoping everything else catches up.

what does progress actually look like?

Vancouver has been redeveloped repeatedly.

In the 1960s, neighbourhoods were described as run down and in need of renewal.

In the 1970s, we celebrated innovative urban planning and new waterfront communities.

Expo 86 brought international attention and enormous changes to False Creek.

The 2010 Olympics brought another round of promises and development.

Now we have Sen̓áḵw, one of the most ambitious urban developments in the city's history.

Each generation has its vision of a better Vancouver.

But I keep coming back to the people who actually live here.

The young people who once rented in Kitsilano.

The seniors who need secure housing.

The artists and workers who helped give neighbourhoods their character.

The newcomers trying to establish themselves.

The temporary workers contributing to the economy.

The people who simply want a safe, affordable place to call home.

I moved to Kitsilano because I wanted to feel safe. I didn't move here to become wealthy or to enjoy a luxury waterfront lifestyle.

I wanted to belong somewhere.

And I wonder how many people arriving in Vancouver today can still have that experience.

A city isn't successful simply because its skyline is impressive, its property values are high or its developments win architectural awards.

It is successful when ordinary people can afford to live in it, participate in it and feel that they belong.

We need to look at Vancouver's history honestly, including the mistakes, the promises, the people who were displaced and the communities that were never properly consulted.

And we need to ask a very simple question:

When we finish building the Vancouver of tomorrow, who will actually be able to afford to live here?

More to come. There is considerably more to investigate about False Creek, Expo 86, the Olympic Village, public land, affordable housing promises and what happens when development moves faster than the infrastructure needed to support it.