It’s not that I miss Abercrombie & Fitch. Other than the freshman year purchase of a single denim miniskirt designed to inspire regret in an out-of-town ex-boyfriend, I never set foot in the place.
Still, now that the view of Harvard Square is decidedly overwhelmed with glass-enclosed galleries of ATMs, it occurs to me that Abercrombie was better than banks. At least when it was there I knew that if I woke up one morning wanting to peruse racks of pants with slogans across the ass, I could have. Now my only choice is between brands of bank receipts, which would only matter to me if I had cash to take out at all.
But the new Citizens Bank branch is just the latest insult in the step-by-step decline of the Square. Before Abercrombie—a place where a college kid could at least spend some time—that site housed the Tasty, a diner where students could even—gasp!—spend time together. The next logical phase in this evolution towards total uselessness to most of us will probably be when that space becomes a real estate office—or perhaps just an extension of the Omega store—into which I will truly never set foot at all.
And yet this seemingly inexorable decline is not inevitable. Harvard Square, in Cambridge zoning law, is contained in the “Harvard Square Overlay District,” whose special rules already restrict the types and heights of buildings in its bounds. Because the Square is part of this special zone, the City of Cambridge can also restrict—either by storefront feet or square footage—the kinds of businesses that occupy the Square. Cambridge could choose, if it wanted, to limit the number of banks that we look at every day.
But such legislation would only solve part of the problem. As the cycle of sites like 50 Church Street—which in three years has housed Brew Moon, the late and great Rock Bottom, and now Dado Tea—demonstrate, a major trouble with getting better businesses in the Square is that they just can’t afford the rent. This is where our dear Harvard, as the largest landowner in the area, ought to step up.
In the last year, Harvard has pretended to address issues of student mental health and binge drinking and yet has fizzled plans for a student center and left space in the Square in financial reach of only banks and bars. Without anywhere to sit with even a cup of coffee at 1 a.m., it’s hardly surprising that students end up either at Brother Jimmy’s or bonding over a bottle of scotch. Or simply sitting in their dorm rooms, depressed that there’s nothing to do.
Without cooperation from Harvard, in fact, it’s unlikely that the businesses that occupy the Square will ever better serve its student (and neighborhood) populations. After all, new zoning restrictions wouldn’t lower the rents. With $3.8 billion in earnings on the endowment last year, Harvard can well afford to, and it can ill afford the continuing degradation of student life at this school. Abercrombie was not ideal, but at least that denim skirt brought a wistful look to the eyes of that ex-boyfriend. No ATM receipt will do that.
Susan E. McGregor ’05, a Crimson editorial editor, is a special concentrator in Interactive Information Design associated with Quincy House.
