Hull consistently makes one of the top five spots on Britain’s worst places to live lists. Hull. The name has a dense quality that thuds to the floor when you say it. Unfortunate, but fitting, considering the basement low employment rates since the fishing and docking industries were made redundant in the 1970s. Hull. To give it some credit though, the name fairs marginally better than the nearby Grimsby and Scunthorpe.

 

The city’s reputation meant that most were surprised by its winning bid for UK City of Culture 2017, which led to millions of pounds being pumped into the East-Yorkshire town. The makeover that ensued would have been synonymic with social cleansing had it occurred further south. Shiny new apartment blocks and soya-flat-white coffee shops have provoked concern in the capital, as the cost of living continues to rise and communities are divided and conquered by property developers. Hull, however, is proof that regeneration does not have to mean gentrification.
 

This March the city is hosting its own branch of the globally renowned Women of the World festival (WoW fest), celebrating International Women’s Day. Rather than some pie-in-the-sky organisers lording in with their own agenda though, the community shaped this festival during a series of open-to-all planning sessions late last year. WoW Hull will join a international network of festivals and highlight the city’s own women of the world, from the female pilot Amy Johnson, to Lillian Bilocca, who campaigned for improved safety measures for Hull’s trawlers.

 

City of Culture is not being treated as an opportunity to start again - this attitude of preservation and celebration has been threaded throughout the campaign. Hull has undoubtedly had a hard time; it was the second most bombed city during the Second World War, after London, and developed pockets of disorder when ex-fishermen and dockers were rehoused, incubating the problems that accompany joblessness. Despite this though, City of Culture is being used to “show people what Hull is really made of, and many of the incredible things Hull has made for the world”.

 

The city’s historic Humber Street fruit market is home to Hull’s artistic hub. The creative alcove arose organically when long-empty buildings were rented to local startups on the cheap during the last recession. The area is in the midst of an £80m makeover – the kind of investment that often sees local businesses usurped. Hull City Council however is intent on maintaining Humber Street’s unique personality. Business owners have welcomed the plans; many have adopted the regeneration’s "Produce of Hull" campaign and have also joined a stakeholder group in association with the area’s property developers, Wykeland and Beal.

 

City of Culture offers Hull the chance to return to its glory days when it was the third largest port in the UK. Sadly, the new culture that accompanies regeneration often comes at the expense of any pre-existing local character; new residents are greeted by vapid performances of "culture" (Gypsy disco in Tottenham, anyone?), where they drown themselves in craft beers and small batch lemonade. But rather than imitating the gentrified desolation that has engulfed much of the country, WoW Fest and the fruit market show that Hull is proudly applauding its own artistry and industrial past – from the House Martins to the Humber River.

 

"New builds are often vehicles to attract a "new type"’ to an area – read: middle class with disposable income"

 

Elsewhere, one of Hull’s most notorious estates is receiving a much-needed makeover. Orchard Park was one of the areas that became synonymous with social decay when new technology and the Cod War confrontations led to the collapse of the docking and fishing industries. Recently, much of the area has been levelled and late last year Gorthorpe became the last of seven looming tower blocks to be demolished, making way for new housing with a less dismal past.

 

New builds are often vehicles to attract a "new type" to an area – read: middle class with disposable income. The Barbican Estate in London was a prime example. Oft lauded as a major post-war council housing project, the apartments were in fact bought by the council, only to be offered at market rates. On top of this, the estates assets were built to entice upwardly mobile young professionals, who would start their career in a Barbican studio flat and end it in one of the five-bedroom "town houses". How many other estates include an arts centre, conservatory and faux-piazza?

 

The Orchard Park redevelopment though is aimed squarely at Hull natives. At the time of writing, the building contractor Wates is constructing 86 eco-friendly council homes to replace Gorthorpe. "Extra-care" homes will provide autonomous apartments for those with mental, physical or other care needs. And earlier this year over 1,000 of the remaining council houses received a large dose of TLC to reduce running costs and improve the standard of living for residents.

 

Hull is a rapidly changing city and as improvements continue, its personification of the "grim north" will soon be a thing of the past. What is heart warming about Hull’s regeneration is the citywide enthusiasm as locals are brought on the journey. A few rouge creative-southern types might join in, but Hull has purposefully claimed ownership of the process. A distinctively northern drawl reminds me of this fact in the city’s regeneration campaign video: “This place, it’s who we are, it’s how we live. Our stories live in these streets.”