🏙️ The future of Market Street East | Morning Newsletter

Good morning, Philly. It’s a breezy and mostly sunny Monday, and we’ll reach a high near 51.

The city’s biggest development battle in years has landed in the heart of Market Street East. The renewed attention on the corridor is largely driven by the Sixers’ controversial plan to build a $1.55 billion arena and apartment tower.

Today, we’re cruising through the longtime hub of commerce and community to check in with the ongoing debate, analyses, and dreams of Market East’s potential.

— Paola Pérez (@pdesiperez, morningnewsletter@inquirer.com)

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The eight-block stretch from City Hall to Independence Mall was once home to the grandest shopping district in the metro region. Now, storefronts sit empty, pedestrians watch their backs at night, and the SEPTA trains are running low on ridership.

The pandemic dealt a significant blow to Market East. It has endured difficulties that have left it struggling for air and uncertain from where the next breath will come.

Despite this, Market East has much to offer, like access to public transit, historic architecture, and prime space for redevelopment.

Still, a new study said the Center City corridor needs help, and another indicated that not much is on the way, with the exception of the arena, which even if approved would not open for seven years.

The Sixers say the project will power a Market East renaissance, but critics doubt it can revitalize much of anything — and could actually hurt Chinatown. While some feel a Sixers arena is not just desirable but critical, others look to options beyond an arena to reinvent Market East.

Notable quote: “We need a big vision,” said Phil Goldsmith, a former city deputy mayor and managing director. “The issue should be Market Street East and what should be done for Market Street East. To say, ‘Let’s pop this arena in there,’ and not look at other solutions, doesn’t seem to be a strategic way of looking at things.”

Go deeper in Jeff Gammage’s story to explore the corridor’s storied past, embattled present, and potential future.

It may get hectic, but there’s no season like white suit season at Goldstein’s Clothing.

Sure, it’s easy to snag one from Amazon or stop by a big-box store. But going to Goldstein’s is a spring tradition ahead of First Holy Communion for hundreds of families from neighborhood parishes and diocesan schools in South Jersey and the suburbs.

For 122 years, Goldstein’s has been the place in South Philly to buy a white communion suit. It’s one of the few spots that specializes in the formal suits.

The old-school shop on South Broad sells over 200 white suits each year, said owner Vinny Talotta, which makes up about 20% of the store’s total sales.

In his own words: “Nobody does the white suits like us,” Talotta said. “That’s our thing.”

Keep reading to learn why Goldstein’s is the community’s prime destination for the occasion.

A new instrument with wacky curves made its debut at the Kimmel Center on Friday. The Inquirer’s Peter Dobrin reported that the difference in its sound production was clear.

What was the instrument?

A) drum

B) violin

C) piano

D) trumpet

Think you know? Check your answer here.

🍄 Foraging: Wild mushrooms with a Pennsylvania woman demystifying mycology.

📱 Watching: A Philly couple chronicling their journey of being unhoused on TikTok.

🍿 Hearing: The Philadelphia Film Society canceled the screening of Kevin Spacey’s new film Peter Five Eight.

Hint: This billionaire investor who lives in the Philly suburbs is reportedly being floated for a cabinet position in a Trump White House

FEES FRY JAYS

Email us if you know the answer. We’ll select a reader at random to shout out here. Cheers to Natalie Linder who correctly guessed Sunday’s answer: four-leaf clover. The hint was “Never iron one of these. You don’t want to press your luck.”

📬 Think back to the night that changed your life that could only happen in Philly, a true example of the Philly spirit, the time you finally felt like you belonged in Philly if you’re not a lifer, or something that made you fall in love with Philly over again — or proud to be from here if you are. Then email it to us for a chance to be featured in the Monday edition of this newsletter.

This “only in Philly” story comes from Inquirer reporter Beatrice Forman, who describes the unique nature of taking on new experiences here.

The Erin Express buses don’t run if it’s snowing — at least that’s what I told myself as I trudged over the Chestnut Street Bridge from Bonner’s Pub to New Deck Tavern in a green tank top, a shamrock headband I pilfered from a warring bar crawl, and the thinnest alcohol blanket known to man. The snowflakes had smeared some of the quotes in my reporter’s notebook, but I was more stressed about a question thumping in the back of my head: Would I get in trouble if I said I didn’t have a good time?

I was paid to attend the Erin Express. The assignment was a belated 21st birthday present from my old boss at Billy Penn. Write about going to the bar crawl for the first time, she said. Get drunk, she said. Have fun, she said. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, a lot of things. My boyfriend and I nearly got scammed by a man selling fake bar crawl wristbands. I slipped in a puddle of White Claw and beer on the floor of Cav’s Rittenhouse. We had many watered down vodka sodas, had to make small talk with people we went to high school with, and had only heard “Come on Eileen” once by the time we were four hours into this thing.

I was miserable, but tipsy, which only made me more miserable. “Am I a killjoy?” I thought to myself. “If the Erin Express is supposed to bring Philly together and I hate it, does that make me a fake Philadelphian?”

The answer, I learned while hung over and eating Wawa meatballs, is no. If anything, it was the first time I felt like I belonged here.

Philadelphia is a city of first-team, all-American complainers. We complain about the things we love. We complain about the things we hate. We complain about the things we want to love, and we do it all with the flourish of a good joke. The most fun I had at the Erin Express was complaining about the Erin Express with other people who wanted to like it, like the man who got the line outside of Misconduct Tavern to chant “You can’t fix stupid” after a teen attempted to use his school ID to get in.

After all, you only complain when you care. And while you probably couldn’t pay me to do the Erin Express again, I care about it in the way that I care about cheap Citywides or Made in America on the Parkway. I don’t have to like it, but it’s nice knowing it’s there. — Beatrice Forman

That should get you started for the week. Have a great day! Julie will be back in your inbox tomorrow.

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