South Dublin Read online

  History

  Dundrum was a dull South Dublin suburb famous for its traffic congestion and its psychiatric hospital.

  A planning application was lodged to build a shopping centre with almost 100,000,000 square feet of retail space. It was built. South Dublin lived happily ever after.

  A WORD FROM ROSS

  Dundrum is the site of Ireland's first ever Storbucks, the world's greastest coffee shop, which I – like basically millions of other South Dubliners – fell in love with while I was in the States, on a J1er. I was, like, never out of the one in Ocean City. Even when I hadn't got two cents to my name, I knew I could always go in there for a tall white chocolate mocha and a peach and raspberry muffin, roysh, and stick them on the old man's AmEx cord. It's something I still do to this day… although it's his Visa I have now.

  Famous Residents

  Oh, a few names you might have heard of: Harvey Nichols? Karen Millen? Tommy Hilfiger? How about Paul Rankin? Or Hugo Boss? Ernest Jones, anyone? Toni & Guy?

  Shopping

  Is the Pope Catholic? There's House of Fraser, Marks & Spencer, Harvey Nichols and a Tesco that's open twenty-four hours a day. For his and hers ‘clobber’ there's BT2, Pull and Bear, Timberland, Tommy Hilfiger, Coast, Esprit, French Connection, G-Star, Karen Millen, Lacoste, Mango and Zara. There's Molton Brown and their famous fine liquid handwash. Women will be happy to hear that there are sixteen shoe shops under Dundrum's roof, including Fitzpatricks, Office and Schuh. And guys, if the blissful, child-in-a-sweetshop atmosphere induces in you an urge to pop the question, there are eight jewellers’ windows to stare into while she's putting the Manolos on your Mastercard. Penneys, H&M, Argos and Champion Sports are also here – if you're into that kind of thing.

  How to Get There

  Across broken glass on your hands and knees if you have to! Fortunately, that's not strictly necessary, as Dublin Bus operates a large number of routes that service Dundrum, including the 14, 14A, 17, 44, 48A, 48N and 75. The Luas also stops right outside, though remember that Balally Station is two minutes’ closer to the shopping centre than Dundrum Station. And you will want every one of those precious seconds when you step into this consumerist wonderland.

  Yummy-Drummies

  Yummy-Drummies are Dundrum's own indigenous female population. They're between fourteen and seventeen years of age, with pencil-thin bodies, baggy clothes, messy hair and perfect make-up. They move in packs of between four and eight, very slowly and in a triangle, between BT2, Boost and Starbucks, sucking smoothies up a straw, texting while they walk, and hugging and air-kissing each other in a very insincere manner.

  Their ‘look’ – scratcher chic- is inspired by glossy magazine images of stars like Jessica Simpson and Lindsay Lohan caught by the paps nipping out for a carton of milk and a packet of fags in a big, sloppy jumper on a Saturday morning. They all dress identically, having chosen their clothes for the day only after long, tortuous hours of consultation with each other through text messaging. Generally, it's over-sized hooded sweatshirts, sloppy, shapeless tracksuit bottoms and either UGG boots or Dubes. Occasionally they'll wear mini-skirts, though that too will have been decided by ‘SMS Democracy in Action’.

  The petulant look is in right now, and Yummy-Drummies are famous for having the sulkiest pouts in Western Europe, enhanced by tubes of collagen-effect

  lip plumper. The hair is worn just-out-of-bed messy. Yummy-Drummies will spend on average one hour in front of the mirror trying to make their hair look like they haven't touched it at all. The application of make-up and fake tan is a slow, meticulous process, as painstaking as excavating an archaeological site, but involving more brushes.

  A WORD FROM OISINN

  My cousin, Noni, she's a Yummy-Drummy. She went shopping with her old dear a while back and they got separated when they ran into basically three groups of Yummy-Drummies coming from different directions – we're talking The Perfect Storm here.

  So when the smoke clears, Noni's old dear doesn't know which kid is hers – they all look the focking same. So she ends up grabbing this one who, in fairness, was wearing a very similar navy Abercrombie hoody, tight jeans and UGGs, and she brings her home. It's five days before she realizes she's got the wrong kid! This one's called Abby or some shit. Anyway, she wasn't going to say anything because I think Abby was actually bleeding less money out of her than Noni had been. More economical to run, I suppose. But it turned out Abby's old dear wanted her back.

  If I had to choose a ladies’ fragrance to capture the spirit of Dundrum, it would have to be Happy by Clinique – fresh, chic, modern and multi-layered.

  Where to Eat

  Like Tom Hanks's character in the movie The Terminal, you could spend twenty years of your life in Dundrum Town Centre and never get sick of the food. It's all here for you. And not just Starbucks. There's the Bagel Factory, Brambles and BBs for lunch; Mao, Milano and Dunne & Crescenzi for dins… and that's only the start of it. There's Café Paul Rankin, Harvey Nicks… Children could grow up here, happy and healthy. Come to think of it, they do.

  A WORD FROM CHRISTIAN

  Dundrum, yeah, it's like, big and shit? But it's nothing compared to Coruscant, which is this planet that's literally the centre of the universe and it's, like, totally a city, as in every square metre of it is covered in, like, skyscrapers and shit? And some of them are, like, a kilometre high. And there's, like, no roads? It's all, like, air traffic and shit? And it's got, like, the Grand Towers, the Skydome Botanical Gardens, the Galactic Museum and the Holographic Zoo of Extinct Animals, none of which Dundrum has. So… if you're, like, asking me which is better, I'd basically have to go with Coruscant.

  Highlights of Dundrum

  For starters, there's the 3,400-berth car park with state-of-the-art navigation system. A meter tells you how many parking spaces are available on each floor. All empty berths are lit up by a green light, which makes finding a parking space no effort at all. Forgotten where you left the ‘jammer’? It doesn't matter. When you pulled into your space, your registration was photographed and logged in a computer. Find an information station, key in your reg and it'll tell you exactly where to find your car. If there is a heaven, these people will be in charge of the parking lot.

  Movies@Dundrum is Dundrum Town Centre's very own cinema, with big, comfy chairs and a total of twenty screens. The only worry is whether Hollywood can make enough movies to keep them all open.

  Knights Barber Shop is where the young jocks who've started sprouting facial hair go for a traditional wet shave with an open razor, which is currently all the rage in South Dublin.

  There's also a medical centre that's equipped to deal with everything from bloodied noses picked up in the course of bargain-hunting to more severe cases of shopper's remorse.

  A WORD FROM JP

  I've been to Dundrum, once. Quite disappointed to discover that Veritas has no branch there yet, although Eason's has a pretty good spiritual living section.

  Overall, though, I would have to say I was appalled by what I saw out there – a big orgy of consumption in which nobody was holding back. We have become such an acquisitive society, with people so desperate to get material things for their own sake.

  We know from Luke 12:15: ‘Jesus said to his disciples, “Watch out. Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops. Then he said, This is what I'll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I'll say to myself, You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry. But God said to him, You fool! This night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself? This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich towards God.”’

  Suggested Iti
nerary in Dundrum

  Get up early. Go to Dundrum Town Centre. Stay until you're asked to leave.

  In a 2007 survey on social and sexual attitudes in South

  Dublin, over 10,000 women were asked their favourite

  posititon – 67% said facing Harvey Nichols.

  4. Foxrock

  Foxrock. The Big Cohiba. Not so much a village as a community of obscenely wealthy people who have locked themselves into mansions behind enormous privet hedges and electric gates. It's often said that the rest of South Dublin is a purgatory for rich men awaiting their eternal reward in Foxrock – and that's truer than ever today. Home to businessmen, barristers, surgeons and literally thousands of lady golfers, Foxrock is the dream they try to sell you in the National Lottery ads, though the truth is you'd need to win three roll-over jackpots just to secure the deposit for a pad here. Houses in Foxrock aren't advertised for sale in estate agents’ windows; they're sold at auction for sums resembling telephone numbers – with foreign prefixes…

  All play and no work. In South Dublin, every hour is

  happy hour. Here, a couple enjoy a traditional Foxrock

  breakfast – a massive cocktail in a swimming pool.

  Anyone who says money can't buy happiness should be forced to spend an afternoon sipping Gin Slings and eating organic chocolate noisettes while floating on a lilo in one of the heated swimming pools that grace the back of just about every property in this truly idyllic part of South Dublin. As far as life goes, the only handicap here is the one you're paying an instructor €200 an hour to help you lower.

  Foxrock men aren't afraid to pick their noses at the wheels of their big German cars, and, thanks to a Special Amenity Area Order, Foxrock women are permitted to use their mobile phones while driving, safeguarding a tradition that stretches back since time immemorial. In fact, the name Foxrock, from the Gaelic Carraig an tSionnaigh, means ‘women driving big Tourans while speaking on tiny Motorolas’.

  Foxrock folk present a wonderfully paradoxical mix of superiority and insecurity, constantly measuring themselves and their worth against others, especially their nearest neighbours. Here, wealth is judged by the Bedrooms-to-Children Index, the average being 3:1.

  Foxrock is such a prestigious address, it's not surprising that some have sought to confuse its borders. ‘Real’ Foxrock residents, in other words those with swimming pools, believe that only three roads – Torquay, Brighton and Westminster – are worthy of the name Foxrock and that the more affordable, semi-detached houses on the other side of the dual-carriageway should be redesignated Deansgrange West.

  A visit to Foxrock is a wonderfully sobering experience. Even with ten grand in your pocket, you'll still feel like a pauper!

  History

  Foxrock has no roads named after republican heroes – dying for Ireland was always considered a terribly working-class idea here. Instead, its fragrant byways are named after either English towns where very, very wealthy people go to die (Torquay, Brighton) or the British parliament (Westminster), which is still considered by many in Foxrock to be the official seat of power for Ireland. Similarly, the names of its houses reflect Foxrock's strong identification with Britain, with lots of references to Abbots and Friars and also former colonial outposts, such as Aden and Brahmapur. Foxrock paid a price for its West Brit leanings, however. Kiltieragh, the home of Sir Horace Plunkett, was burnt down by republicans in 1923, which helps explain why, to this day, Sinn Féin polls so badly in Foxrock at election time.

  A WORD FROM FIONN

  Foxrock was the birthplace of Samuel Beckett, who happens to be one of my favourite writers. His novels and plays are bleak, minimalist and offer a pessimistic view of human nature, coloured by his own personal experiences, especially his fraught and ultimately unresolved relationship with his mother. His work was, in his own words, an art of impoverishment and failure. And yet alleviating that sense of fatalism is Beckett's dark and devious sense of humour, which lays bare the absurdity of human existence and our futile obsession with meaning. Which is interesting…

  After Independence, Foxrock's landed gentry got on with the business of making potloads of cash. Modern Foxrock has a GNP equivalent to some of the world's leading corporations, though wealth has in no way softened them. These people love a fight. In the 1960s they succeeded in having the Dublin Harcourt Street Line closed down because the stop at Foxrock was drawing undesirables into the area to have what's known colloquially as ‘a gawp’. And the fight continues, with hundreds of residents lining up to oppose the extension of the Luas line to Foxrock. A hard-hitting campaign, involving a charity ball and at least two fashion shows, has helped raise awareness of the potential horrors of public transport for a unique area like Foxrock.

  Shopping

  Foxrock is not exactly a shopper's paradise – the people here have Paris and Milan for that – but Pace is a shoe shop and Lily a boutique where many local ladies go to pick up something ‘a bit different, very unusual’.

  THE FFS

  FFs – or Foxrock Fannies – refers to a type of woman indigenous to this corner of Dublin. Foxrock Fannies are typically in their forties or fifties and members of West Wood gym in Leopardstown, Carrickmines Croquet and Lawn Tennis Club and at least one golf club. Three mornings a week they perform an aerobic or Body Training System programme while wearing a full mask of make-up. Whether dressing up or down, they always strive to look their best, to the point of accessorizing their tracksuits. They never, ever wash their own hair, instead having it shampooed and set four times a week, usually in The Lounge, the local beauty salon where one can hear the loud exclamations of ‘You… look… fab-a-lous!’ from as far away as Cabinteely.

  FFs speak with a flat, nasal timbre and bitch about their housekeepers over coffee with their friends – ‘the girls’ – in the Gables two or three mornings a week.

  They all have little yappy dogs. They enjoy organizing fund-raising functions, such as cocktail balls and golf outings, but only if there's kudos to be had from them.

  Their children are mostly reared, with their youngest well into secondary school – fee-paying, naturally. Their husbands are semi-retired professionals, and they have holiday homes, and golf club memberships abroad, mostly in Villamoura.

  One characteristic of Foxrock Fannies is that they never admit to planning holidays. They talk about ‘nipping over’ to the place in Portugal, as if it were a spur-of-the-moment thing. And oddly for women of such means, they love a bargain, especially a cheap flight.

  It's a biological fact that Foxrock Fannies have no embarrassment gene. In shops they ask for discounts at full volume and make appointments to view houses for sale in the area, their only business being to pry.

  THE REAL CAPITAL OF IRELAND?

  It's no coincidence that Portugal chose Westminster Park in Foxrock for the site of its Irish embassy. The Portuguese are so used to running into people from Foxrock – who've bought up most of Praia da Rocha – that most locals think Foxrock, not Dublin, is the capital of Ireland. And of course they're right.

  How to Get There

  In 1990, following a forty-year stand-off with CIÉ, local residents agreed to remove a series of barricades and allow a limited public transport service into Foxrock.

  Under an agreement hammered out between locals and the company, just one single 86 passes along Brighton Road, at 7.25 am, on weekday mornings only. There are also a limited number of 63 buses permitted to drive through old Foxrock. Meanwhile, the mortgage-paying classes who live east of the dual-carriageway have access to any number of bus routes, including the 46A, 84 and the 145.

  A WORD FROM OISINN

  Of course, Loreto Foxrock is the school for birds out that direction. I suppose, like the rest of the goys, I broke a fair few horts out there in my time, especially when we put on West Side Story with them in, like, transition year. The school is opposite that massive church, Our Lady of Perpetual Succour – or Our Lady of Perpetual Sexual Frustration, as we used to cal
l it. There'd be a lot of lookers in there, though a lot of them have serious chips on their shoulders about not being sent to Mount Anville. After school they tend to hang around Stillorgan Shopping Centre, especially McDonald's, where seven or eight of them will sit around, like, one Diet Coke. There's a joke that the Macky D's in Stillorgan is the only one in the world operating at a loss.

  A ladies’ fragrance to sum up Foxrock? Chanel No. 5, of course – old, but yet timeless; sophisticated, decisive and with an uncompromising femininity.

  Where to Eat

  The Gables is known to serve the best Jerusalem artichokes and mooli in all of South Dublin, though it's probably best known as a hangout for Ladies Who Brunch. Check out the cars outside on a Saturday morning – XK8 Jag convertibles, Porsche Cayennes, X5 BMW jeeps. This is where the battle for the lady captaincy of the golf club is won or lost, and where some Olympic-standard bitching and back-stabbing takes place over Black Forest lattes and macadamia biscotti.

  Dublin's only racecourse and is where Foxrock mommies and daddies take their little princesses to celebrate landmark occasions in their lives, such as eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays, Leaving Certificate results and breaking in their first pair of Jimmy Choos.