Sleaze is not all bad

Source : Straits Times - 26 Feb 2009

It is said that location, location, location is everything when it comes to property. But what about your neighbour’s vocation?

Pity the residents of Joo Chiat. Long admired for its beautiful pre-war shophouses and rich Peranakan heritage, the middle-class residential district in the east is also associated with karaoke lounges, seedy bars and girls who prowl the streets making clear what goods they have to offer.

Besides the negative effect it has on the resale value of property, it’s easy to see why sleaze is bad. First and foremost, the victims are the girls themselves, most of whom hail from poorer neighbouring countries and who are driven into the sex trade out of desperation.

As for the residents, there is of course the worry that their children might be exposed to bad influences - never mind the danger posed by lecherous men and drunken fights, as well as detritus such as cigarette butts and broken bottles.

It is not just Joo Chiat that faces this problem. My own neighbourhood of Duxton Hill, a mix of Housing Board blocks, condominiums and shophouses, is a prime example. It is in an enviable location, right next to the central business district, near the good food of Chinatown and a stone’s throw from trendy areas such as Club Street.

Yet the stretch of shophouses along Tanjong Pagar Road is notorious for its sketchy establishments, identifiable by their neon signs, dark-tinted glass doors and five-foot-ways crowded with scantily clad Thai and Vietnamese girls.

Some friends have teased me about the dodginess of the area, but I personally find it exciting. In more enthusiastic moments, I have even dubbed my neighbourhood Singapore’s answer to the East Village in New York City.

Cheek by jowl in the terraced shophouses, the seedy bars co-exist with bridal studios, expensive restaurants, gay clubs and a Christian theology school - an eclectic mix that is a shining example of how disparate factions can live in harmony.

Admittedly, I am not a parent and thus do not have to worry about my young ones being traumatised by the flesh parade. But as a young person, I appreciate the fact that I do not live in yet another cookie-cutter housing estate or Stepford-like suburb.

In an interview this newspaper ran earlier this month, well-known Singaporean architect William Lim - of Golden Mile Complex and People’s Park Complex fame - said that Singapore was dull compared to cities such as Tokyo because of our tendency to plan districts from the top down, rather than letting them blossom naturally.

He praised neighbourhoods like Geylang and Little India, saying that these areas, which mixed eateries, indie stores, red-light districts and residential properties, have developed their own ‘chaotic order’ which gives them an authenticity missing from our manufactured hubs.

In this spirit, I see Duxton Hill’s sleaze as fair exchange for the privilege of living in a historic conservation district. Indeed, what Duxton Hill and Joo Chiat - and Geylang and Little India - have in common are shophouses built in the 1800s and early 1900s by immigrants from southern China.

As the shophouses have been gazetted for conservation by the Urban Redevelopment Authority, owners and tenants have very little leeway when it comes to renovation, as the shophouses have to retain, according to URA guidelines, all ‘original structural and architectural elements’.

While living or working in a shophouse has become rather fashionable of late, thanks to retro-fever, the space and renovation restrictions pose daunting challenges to would-be tenants. Businesses would not only have to be on the small side, but they would also require that certain air of quirkiness and eccentricity as embodied by a shophouse.

Meanwhile, of those businesses that would find such a space suitable, location once again becomes an issue. Boutique shops might prefer the higher pedestrian traffic in specific shophouse clusters such as Ann Siang Hill, while professional outfits like hedge funds prefer shophouses within the business district, such as on Telok Ayer Street.

Thus, when it comes to those shophouses located in less central or accessible areas, the only businesses willing to set up shop are ones that can occupy cramped, narrow spaces with minimum renovations, and which have a devoted clientele that would be willing to go out of their way to get what they want.

Really good eateries are one example of such a business. Girly bars are another.

Sometimes, we just have to recognise that certain things turn up on our doorsteps for a reason. A prominent Singaporean actor and long-time resident of Joo Chiat once told me during an unrelated interview that he has no interest in joining the Save Joo Chiat group, a grassroots movement comprised of residents campaigning for a ’sleaze-free’ Joo Chiat.

The actor, who has a young daughter, pointed out that the sex industry exists here because there is a market for it in Singapore.

‘Whatever is out there is out there because of us. Don’t get on your high horse,’ he said.

He also added that ultimately, these ’sleazy’ people are, in hard times, just trying to make a living wherever and however they can - something he feels Singaporeans should be able to identify with.

He said: ‘We are a migrant society, we all came here as foreign labourers. My great-great-grandfather came to Singapore as a coolie. These foreign workers - they could be the next Singaporeans.’

How suitable, then, that they should get their start in a shophouse.