The March issue of Monocle just dropped, debuting a new format called the Monocle 100. It's a list of the people, places, and things worth knowing about. And in the middle of it is something called the Monocle Property Survey, which was deliberately timed to coincide with MIPIM, the massive real estate conference that takes place every March in Cannes.
As a quick aside, our team contemplated going to MIPIM this year in search of both friends and money, but then we thought to ourselves: Why bother going to the South of France when we have Toronto in the middle of March to enjoy?
The first thing the Property Survey does is give a rare nod to developers: "While architects often nab all the credit for building our cities, streets and homes, it's actually developers who should get much of the kudos (and blame, in some instances). Because it's usually developers — small, large, private, state-funded — that must secure land, raise capital and take risks." It almost feels weird hearing somebody say something positive about our kind.
But even better, the survey includes a full page on our unique creative residency program at Parkview Mountain House (Park City, Utah):
A big thanks to the Monocle team for the feature. If you're in Toronto and would like to pickup a copy of this month's issue, visit their shop in Little Italy at 776 College Street. And if you'd like to learn more about PMH, including our creative residency program, visit pmhpc.com.
I'm not actually sure what the official name is for this kind of bag. Is it a shopping cart, shopping trolley or something else? The answer likely depends on where you are. Whatever it is, the September issue of Monocle has a feature on Spanish shopping trolley maker Rolser.
And for it, they photographed a bunch of cool urbanites with their trolleys, and then asked them: What's in your Rolser? See above photo. Supposedly, or at least according to the company, about 63% of Spanish households have a Rolser in their house.
This is interesting. Because in my part of the world, the percentage would be low. In fact, there are stigmas around them. Many people associate grocery carts with elderly people and sometimes with people who can't afford a car. But that's the wrong way to think about this bag.
It's actually a built environment association. The correct framing is: Are you urban enough to be able to use one? Because they're very common throughout Europe. Here, for example, is Paris, where they're called a chariot de courses or a sac à roulettes.
All of this has me thinking two things. One, our household is overdue for one. And two, this is an opportunity. These are utilitarian and often stigmatized objects that could very easily be reframed into a lifestyle design object for urban cities around the world. (Though, to be fair, the Rolser pictured above looks pretty good.)
The only prerequisite is a walkable urban environment. Maybe it's time that Globizen gets into the city roller business. Or maybe one of you can just run with this idea and then I can buy one.
Photo: Monocle
One city that we didn't talk about from Monocle's recent Quality of Life Survey, but that regularly appears on the list, is Tokyo. In this year's ranking, it was bestowed with "best for cleanliness."
All of this isn’t to say that there’s no rubbish in Tokyo but, overall, it’s much tidier than other cities of a comparable size. Tokyo spends a fortune on keeping things presentable. The Clean Authority of Tokyo’s waste management budget for the central wards is ¥105bn (€640m) this year, of which ¥83bn (€507m) is dedicated to cleaning. But the secret to the city’s sparkle is that it’s not simply the work of city employees: it’s a collective job.
If any of you can remember my "Takeaways from Japan" post from this earlier this year, you might recall that cleanliness shows up in my first point. It is absolutely astounding that the largest city in the world — it almost has the entire population of Canada — manages to be so clean. On top of this, it manages to achieve this with almost no public garbage bins.
If you've been to Tokyo, you'll know this. There are very few places to throw out your garbage in a public space. This is perhaps the irony of Tokyo's cleanliness. But it works because of the expectation that people will take their garbage home and then sort it according to the city's strict separation rules. And of course, this is what people do.
That said, there are some other reasons for the lack of public bins, namely the 1995 subway sarin attack. There remains a deep fear that garbage bins might be used to conceal a terrorist device, which is why if you do see a garbage bin, it'll often be transparent in nature so that nothing nefarious can be concealed. But by and large, the Tokyo approach seems to work because everyone wants it to.
The March issue of Monocle just dropped, debuting a new format called the Monocle 100. It's a list of the people, places, and things worth knowing about. And in the middle of it is something called the Monocle Property Survey, which was deliberately timed to coincide with MIPIM, the massive real estate conference that takes place every March in Cannes.
As a quick aside, our team contemplated going to MIPIM this year in search of both friends and money, but then we thought to ourselves: Why bother going to the South of France when we have Toronto in the middle of March to enjoy?
The first thing the Property Survey does is give a rare nod to developers: "While architects often nab all the credit for building our cities, streets and homes, it's actually developers who should get much of the kudos (and blame, in some instances). Because it's usually developers — small, large, private, state-funded — that must secure land, raise capital and take risks." It almost feels weird hearing somebody say something positive about our kind.
But even better, the survey includes a full page on our unique creative residency program at Parkview Mountain House (Park City, Utah):
A big thanks to the Monocle team for the feature. If you're in Toronto and would like to pickup a copy of this month's issue, visit their shop in Little Italy at 776 College Street. And if you'd like to learn more about PMH, including our creative residency program, visit pmhpc.com.
I'm not actually sure what the official name is for this kind of bag. Is it a shopping cart, shopping trolley or something else? The answer likely depends on where you are. Whatever it is, the September issue of Monocle has a feature on Spanish shopping trolley maker Rolser.
And for it, they photographed a bunch of cool urbanites with their trolleys, and then asked them: What's in your Rolser? See above photo. Supposedly, or at least according to the company, about 63% of Spanish households have a Rolser in their house.
This is interesting. Because in my part of the world, the percentage would be low. In fact, there are stigmas around them. Many people associate grocery carts with elderly people and sometimes with people who can't afford a car. But that's the wrong way to think about this bag.
It's actually a built environment association. The correct framing is: Are you urban enough to be able to use one? Because they're very common throughout Europe. Here, for example, is Paris, where they're called a chariot de courses or a sac à roulettes.
All of this has me thinking two things. One, our household is overdue for one. And two, this is an opportunity. These are utilitarian and often stigmatized objects that could very easily be reframed into a lifestyle design object for urban cities around the world. (Though, to be fair, the Rolser pictured above looks pretty good.)
The only prerequisite is a walkable urban environment. Maybe it's time that Globizen gets into the city roller business. Or maybe one of you can just run with this idea and then I can buy one.
Photo: Monocle
One city that we didn't talk about from Monocle's recent Quality of Life Survey, but that regularly appears on the list, is Tokyo. In this year's ranking, it was bestowed with "best for cleanliness."
All of this isn’t to say that there’s no rubbish in Tokyo but, overall, it’s much tidier than other cities of a comparable size. Tokyo spends a fortune on keeping things presentable. The Clean Authority of Tokyo’s waste management budget for the central wards is ¥105bn (€640m) this year, of which ¥83bn (€507m) is dedicated to cleaning. But the secret to the city’s sparkle is that it’s not simply the work of city employees: it’s a collective job.
If any of you can remember my "Takeaways from Japan" post from this earlier this year, you might recall that cleanliness shows up in my first point. It is absolutely astounding that the largest city in the world — it almost has the entire population of Canada — manages to be so clean. On top of this, it manages to achieve this with almost no public garbage bins.
If you've been to Tokyo, you'll know this. There are very few places to throw out your garbage in a public space. This is perhaps the irony of Tokyo's cleanliness. But it works because of the expectation that people will take their garbage home and then sort it according to the city's strict separation rules. And of course, this is what people do.
That said, there are some other reasons for the lack of public bins, namely the 1995 subway sarin attack. There remains a deep fear that garbage bins might be used to conceal a terrorist device, which is why if you do see a garbage bin, it'll often be transparent in nature so that nothing nefarious can be concealed. But by and large, the Tokyo approach seems to work because everyone wants it to.
This reminds me of an incident when our ski and snowboard group was there in February. We were walking around Harajuku and a few of us decided to indulge in a set of elaborate desserts involving crepes, various fruit-like mixtures, and an absolutely excessive amount of whipped cream. You know, the sort of thing you'd never order if you were at home.
One of us ended up wearing their dessert. He had it on his face, his chest, his hands, and somehow all over this jacket sleeves. There was whipped cream everywhere. He needed to abandon ship immediately and rid himself of what remained of his dessert. Except, there were no garbage bins anywhere! This is despite being on one of the busiest tourist streets in the city (see cover photo).
It became a mission to get himself cleaned up. But what he absolutely did not do is litter. That's just not how one conducts oneself in Japan — with or without public garbage bins.
This reminds me of an incident when our ski and snowboard group was there in February. We were walking around Harajuku and a few of us decided to indulge in a set of elaborate desserts involving crepes, various fruit-like mixtures, and an absolutely excessive amount of whipped cream. You know, the sort of thing you'd never order if you were at home.
One of us ended up wearing their dessert. He had it on his face, his chest, his hands, and somehow all over this jacket sleeves. There was whipped cream everywhere. He needed to abandon ship immediately and rid himself of what remained of his dessert. Except, there were no garbage bins anywhere! This is despite being on one of the busiest tourist streets in the city (see cover photo).
It became a mission to get himself cleaned up. But what he absolutely did not do is litter. That's just not how one conducts oneself in Japan — with or without public garbage bins.
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