Elegant Eglinton

Eglinton West is the Broadway of Toronto. Not that it has massive marquees or neon nights. I mean it’s literally, broad. Its sidewalks are three times the width you’d find downtown with enough space for a bench, a planter and a half-oil drum barbecue.

Dundas is patchy, with all its disparate neighbourhoods that never seem to gel. College is underwhelming and has never lived up to its scholarly potential. Queen Street West is ugh: a narrow turn of the century street that never turned the century. The 19^th century.

University Avenue is grand, but sterile. Hospitals, universities, museums, and a part time government that closes in the summer. It’s a three and a half-uses institutional road.

Eglinton West is practical. You can get your tires changed, replace the zipper on your favourite jacket, pick up some winter boots to battle a sudden snowstorm, and enjoy Toronto’s best Jamaican patty on your way home. 

Little Jamaica has it right. Eglinton West is the place to be. Masani Productions, the crew behind Rastafest, carved out space at Glenholme and Eglinton just a couple of years back. The Nia Centre for the Arts rose up not long after, a real nursery for Black creativity on Oakwood, feeding the city’s culture from the roots up.

And then there are the old anchors. People like Vernal Small, a local tailor who set up shop more than fifty years ago and never left. He’s still behind that counter, needle in hand, steady as ever, and he’ll tell you straight: he isn’t going anywhere.

Yes, I know that Eglinton is still on life support. COVID, the never-ending LRT construction, and the storefront-shuddering economic downturn has dimmed its light. But it can be very much alive.

Every time I turn into Little Jamaica, after long drives through the GTA, I feel like I’m entering the actual Broadway.  It feels so big, so elegant, so classy. I feel like I arrived in the big city.

Tires, boots, tailors and patties. Street parking, bikes, buses and trains. Festivals, theatres, clubs, and lounges. There’s enough room for it all. 

Midtown Manhattan has nothing on our midtown avenue. It’s just waiting for the show lights to go up.