The sun hovering over Houston was quickly giving way to twilight when Laura Levine approached the building off Main Street, nestled near the center of Midtown. Laura hurriedly opened the door as a METRORail train whizzed by on the street behind. As she walked up the stairs to the shop sitting above the Continental Club, Levine talked about the circumstances that led to her co-ownership of a shop of oddities open only at night in the middle of Houston.
"I grew up in Waco but always knew I'd end up in Houston. It's such a crazy, mysterious city. No zoning makes everything so much more interesting. A church next to a dive bar is quirky, yet appealing in a strange way; it keeps you on your toes. With such a colorful landscape, living in Houston is an adventure, and if you pay attention, you can discover some really cool parts of town. That's what I love most about Houston: The cool spots to go to are not obvious."
Levine, who moved here in 1995, and her partner, Mike Hildebrand, opened a vintage resale shop in the Heights named Replay on 19th Street, but it wasn't her first time to visit the city.
"When I was a kid, my mom had a quirky aunt who lived here in Houston, and every time we'd come to visit her, I'd end up not wanting to return home. Houston just seemed more exciting, more alive in some special way that Waco was lacking, and I wanted to explore it whenever we were in town."
Hildebrand, who's originally from Dallas, had similar reasons for moving. "Houston neighborhoods all seem to have their own special character, and it's easy to fall in love with one if it feels right. It's like you just know if the place is going to work for you or not, and if it does, it feels perfect," he said.
For the past several weeks, in an online series called "The Changing Face of Houston," we've been exploring many of the different neighborhoods that make up this city and what their residents have to say about them. Houston has always attracted individualists and people with great visions. Here's a look at some of them.
Montrose
Christine Armstrong remembers moving with her mother into Montrose as a young child in the 1970s, leaving behind the small town of Alvin. Even as a five-year-old, she understood that Montrose was different from other parts of Houston. "All of a sudden, Mom and I were right in the middle of this weird neighborhood where all of Houston's gays and artists seemed to live. It just felt like there was excitement in the air, like an electric charge."
The neighborhood had already undergone huge changes by the time Armstrong and her mother relocated there. Montrose had been an area of outlying farmland occupied by dairies when developer J.W. Link envisioned it as a "great residential addition" in 1911. The new development turned Montrose into an upscale neighborhood with its own streetcar line and a huge number of large trees planted as part of a massive landscaping effort. Link built his own palatial home in the neighborhood, at the corner of Montrose and West Alabama, and the Link-Lee Mansion is now part of the Uni-versity of St. Thomas campus.
That Montrose was a magnet for notable early 20th-century movers and shakers. Howard Hughes had a home on Yoakum Street, Clark Gable studied acting in the neighborhood and future president Lyndon B. Johnson lived on Hawthorne Street while teaching at Sam Houston High School during the 1930s.
By the late 1960s, the streetcars were long gone, but the trees and nice old homes remained. Montrose had transitioned into a neighborhood of mostly older residents, while younger people who could afford to do so moved into distant suburbs. Montrose was seen as an old community, too close to downtown. But by the early '70s, it was being rediscovered and resettled by Houston's gay population, who were rejecting lives in the closet and wanted a community where they could live openly with less fear of persecution. The decade saw Montrose transformed from an area of old homes with old residents into Houston's most colorful neighborhood. Members of the gay community made it their home, as did artists, hippies, musicians and bohemians of all kinds. New businesses sprang up among the older homes, and soon tattoo parlors and gay bars sat next to music venues and clothing stores that catered to non-mainstream tastes.
In a short period of time, Montrose developed the eclectic mix of counterculture charm that made it famous. As new, edgy music subcultures developed, clubs such as Numbers and Paradise Rock Island opened, making the neighborhood a magnet for people attracted to the punk and new wave scenes.
Growing up in Montrose ignited Armstrong's appreciation for the creative edge that the area seems to bring out in its residents. "I love the freedom of expression this neighborhood allows. It's not like I wouldn't be true to myself anyway, but this area just makes it easier to be your crazy self. I've lived in or around Montrose for the last 35 years and can't imagine ever leaving and not coming back. It's part of who I am and who a lot of my friends are," she said.
But Montrose has continued to change just like the city around it, and while it still seems to hold the reputation as Houston's "weird" neighborhood, some people worry that it might be losing some of its bohemian charm.
"I have seen the Westheimer Arts Festival moved off its namesake street to downtown for a more 'family-oriented' atmosphere, and now the gay pride parade is moving there, too," Armstrong said. "I've watched iconic Montrose gay bars like Mary's close down, and I've witnessed beautiful old homes bulldozed so that they can be replaced by townhomes, and now by high-rise apartments. It feels like Montrose is losing some of the quirks that make it unique, that it's getting expensive and some of the people who make it interesting are being priced out of the area."
The area also has many very nice original homes and is close to Houston's museums and other attractions that have made Montrose attractive to the kinds of people who once rejected the idea of moving there.
Despite the changes, Armstrong doesn't worry that Montrose will completely lose its special character anytime soon.
"Being a hairstylist and a painter, I still feel that Montrose is the place I belong, and it still has the same vibe that I've always loved about it. The businesses that are still around, like Niko Niko's and The Magick Cauldron, make Montrose special. The Menil Collection and Rothko Chapel make it special. Watching old friends open up businesses that thrive here makes it special. Knowing I can walk to work, to the Disco Kroger and to all of my coffee-shop meeting places is pretty damn special in a town everyone thinks you need to own a car to live in."
