Cities Only Work if We Show Up

I have always been in love with cities. I joke with friends that I have crushes on cities the way they have crushes on good-looking strangers. Sometimes—as with Paris and London—my unrequited crush meant finding an excuse to move there. With Seattle, however, that initial attraction grew into a long-term relationship.

I arrived here as a “tech baby,” coming from Canada to work at Microsoft as a college intern. For a long time, I felt as though I were living in a bubble—until I realized I could pivot my career and work in and on the city I’d come to call home. Through my company, Dunn & Hobbes, I’ve done just that, spending more than 25 years building and renovating spaces for retail, restaurants, and creative work. I love old buildings—but what I love more is what happens inside and around them. I love making space for creative people and then watching them fully inhabit those places and thrive. I also love how a collection of structures on a block can become an economic and artistic ecosystem.

Working in real estate is not just about making deals—you’re crafting pieces of the city, and that comes with both impact and responsibility.

Small businesses are the heart and soul of any neighborhood. Research shows that locally owned businesses generate a much higher multiplier effect in the regional economy than national chains. Beyond economics, the independent shops, restaurants, and designers that comprise the core fabric of a city are the secret sauce that makes it feel unique.

Nowhere is that more evident than Capitol Hill’s Pike/Pine corridor, where I’ve conducted most of my work and lived out large chunks of my adult life. During the past 25 years, it has become a case study in what happens when you preserve character  and invest in small business. The area was once filled with old auto-row buildings that had fallen into disuse. Instead of wiping the slate clean, local developers, including me, saw an opportunity for creative reuse. Those buildings turned out to be perfectly scaled for independent retailers and restaurants, creating a unique critical mass that offers a popular destination for locals and tourists alike.

What makes Pike/Pine special is its texture and grit—the layered history you feel in both the physical architecture and the spirit of the shops and restaurants. A large percentage of businesses are owned by members of the LGBTQ+ community, women, immigrants, and people of color. The density of independent retailers and studios—and the inclusive community that supports them—creates omething you can’t replicate with a formula. It evolved over decades, shaped by artists, musicians, designers and small entrepreneurs willing to take risks and plant their flags.

Today, neighborhoods like Pike/Pine face challenges that threaten the tightly woven ecosystem that makes them thrive. There’s a difference between gritty and too gritty, and during the past six years, it’s become harder to attract people. Foot traffic in neighborhood retail districts is dropping, even as downtown begins to recover with tourism. Small businesses are dealing with crushing cost pressures, many tied to public safety concerns and well-intentioned policies with unintended consequences. Public safety has been the elephant in the room—though I do believe we are starting to see improvements. At the same time, our habits have changed. Seattleites have been hibernating, whether because of repercussions from the COVID-19 pandemic or the convenience of delivery apps, streaming, and gaming.

And yet, people still deeply crave connection.

That’s why what’s happening in Pike/Pine right now is inspiring and hopeful. Many of the people who helped shape the neighborhood are still here, investing their time, money, and creativity because they care deeply about its future. We’re doubling down on what makes it special—art walks, a slate of new murals, the On The Block street fair, and Capitol Hill Block Party—all invitations for the community to come back out and re-engage.

This spring, on Saturday, May 16th, we’re launching something new: the Pike/Pine Spring Fashion Walk and Social. It’s designed to be an annual celebration that stretches across the neighborhood, anchored by a collection of activations at Melrose Market, and a runway show on the “catwalk” at Chophouse Row that will include Seattle fashion apparel leaders Glasswing, JackStraw, the Refind, the Finerie, and Flora and Henri. Neighborhood-based designer and brand activations up and down the corridor will include open studios, DJs, wine tastings, in-store pop-ups, and involvement from local college students—bringing in the next generation of designers and entrepreneurs. One of the goals is to remind everyone that Seattle still has amazing fashion “game,” offering a scene that is just as creative and diverse as anything you might find in New York or LA. At its core, this event is not about shopping. It’s about creating a reason for people to come together, to reconnect, and to experience the neighborhood as a shared space.

Because that’s the point. Cities work best when we show up—for them and for each other. Seattle’s culture is not something that exists just for us to consume; we are all participants in shaping it. So, my call to action is simple: come out. Walk around and meet your neighbors. Engage in what’s happening. It feels good—and it does good.