The signs of gentrification are easy to catch if you're paying attention. Homeless people are replaced by hipsters in scarves and ironic glasses and cheap diners are replaced by trendy bars (or trendy bars meant to look like cheap diners). Suddenly before you know it, there it is, the ultimate green and white icon of upscale development: a Starbucks. Before gentrification, a neighbourhood tends to be fairly ignorable: a band of strip clubs, donut stores, and crack dealers. Post-construction, it's a land of yuppies, condos, and expensive designer clothes. Either rendition will have both its fans and its naysayers.

But catching a neighbourhood in mid-development is always an exciting endeavour. Just as West Queen West was an exciting neighbourhood before The Drake and The Gladstone became "too mainstream", the stretch of Ossington Avenue between Dundas and Queen is now becoming the place to drink and hang out on the cheap. While there are still more than a few Portuguese Bakeries and Vietnamese Karaoke bars, they have been gradually transforming into popular dive bars, upscale eateries, and art galleries.

There are already too many trendy bars to choose from and many more are popping up every day. If you were to do an Ossington pub crawl and only hit the buzzworthy spots, you'd be trashed by 9:30. The bar that probably best represents the neighbourhood vibe is one that has already been around for a number of years and ironically isn't even located on Ossington. The only indication of life at Communist's Daughter (1149 Dundas Street West) is a 1950s-era Coca Cola ad and a sign for Nazaré Snack Bar. But look closer, and you can see something much cooler happens beyond those doors. Is it all an elaborate trick to build word-of-mouth and lure the thirsty hipsters? Perhaps. But since the little bar offers pickled eggs, Pabst Blue Ribbon in cans, and a jukebox to rival any in the city, it's no surprise to find yourself without a seat.

Continue southwards to the end of Ossington and you'll find Sweaty Betty's, another hole-in-the-wall that attracts at least twice its capacity on any given night. Since a sign on the wall boasts "No Table Service!", the clientele gathers around the bar to purchase cans of Sapporo or Stiegel; Betty's would never be caught dead stocking Molson or Labatt. Meanwhile, others crowd the jukebox waiting for their turn to play a song by Iggy Pop, King Khan or Joy Division. Nary one square inch of space remains empty.