In England, they have a cultural demographic called the Sloanes. Several wonderfully hilarious books were written about them, one in the 80s called “The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook,” and its next gen follow-up a few years ago, “Cooler, Faster, More Expensive: The Return of the Sloane Ranger.” These people are bougie or even aristocratic by class, but have a unique set of characteristics that set them apart from the average yuppie/preppie. The name “Sloane” comes from Sloane Square in London, where posh and careless people spend too much money on brunch while wearing designer Rugby clothing.

But the “Ranger” in the title infers as much as I can now authoritatively tell you, having lived in England and known many sloanes: Sloanes are not wimps. They may be dim on occasion, according to my British friends, but they also know how to raise horses, or sail through squalls, can cope with underheated stone country estates in the winter, don’t get embarrassed about getting piss drunk and misbehaving, and do many other politically incorrect things like dressing up in a Nazi costume for Halloween a fancy dress party (Sloanes love fancy dress parties). They like the country, and are known to dress in wellingtons and Barbour coats (those waxed raincoats that only stable managers wear in the US) most of the time. This is not to say they resemble Sarah Palin in any way.

They are much maligned. My British friends have often lamented my fetish for Sloanes, telling me I don’t understand how dim and snobbish they really are. But I only need to point to one magnificent Sloane, Emma McCune, to justify my admiration for her demographic. Sure, there are some bad apples, but show me another affluent subculture that gives its people the skills to thrive in South Sudan. Emma and her friends manage to go water skiing in their local Sudanese river by nailing planks to those handy wellies. That’s not just coping, it’s celebrating life, and God knows we all need to learn to do more of that.

I would like to suggest that I am living among real candidates for a new subgenre of the Sloane culture — the Sloane Ranger, urban pioneer variety. Urban Pioneer Sloanes (US) live in urban wastelands with lots of warehouse space. They are not the 21-year-old artists/musicians who are living in the warehouses 6 to a loft, but the 35-year olds owning or renting lofts and zoning ambivalent structures (garages, former strip clubs, storefronts). These people are well into their careers as music producers, fashion designers, artists, film directors, musicians, or graphic designers, and live in the wilds of their cities for a number of reasons — more space, no zoning, no Starbucks, backyard, proximity to burgeoning gallery scene, spontaneous rock concerts, electronic music parties, adventurous graffiti and guerrilla art, no noise regulation enforcement, less people, more sky, less cops, skateboarding opportunities. They mostly look like models, and many have children. 

These hardy people have to deal with a number of very unpleasant features on a daily basis. They may be hit by a stream of rats running out of the subway grate as they walk home, pass a dead rat with its innards hanging out, or a pile of steaming human excrement. Each day, it seems, one of the 21-year-olds will move out of a loft, depositing a room full of broken furniture on the curb. The postmen won’t deliver their mail, the kids down the street will steal their bikes. There will be bedbug infestations, roach infestations, wires will not be properly adhered to the building by a slum landlord (and thus hang dangerously at eye-level), bodyshops will run their machines all night, the cement factory will spew dust all over the plants, lead will leak into the soil of the backyard, uncouth youths will gather on the sidewalk to discuss violence and blast rap at midnight on a Wednesday, drunk people will go to the bathroom on the front stoop, other people will leave chicken bones on the front stoop, and more shit, shit, will be seen everywhere. The main reason for all these details is that the neighborhood is not designed to be inhabited by humans. It’s industrial.

But oh, humans will go there, whether it is in New York, Oakland, Los Angeles, Anchorage, or Portland. (I don’t know about the other places.) Very hardy humans will go there — and they will survive! They will build above-ground planters for their backyards and grow vegetables that way. They will start free film clubs in warehouses to screen Blaxpoitation movies. They will build bars in their art galleries without getting licenses. They will go to the Salvadorian grocery store and learn to cook whatever they sell there. They will start radio stations. They will use the local craftsmen to build out their warehouses. They will film their music videos without getting permits on the abandoned railroad tracks. They will have parties with 300 guests to fund international art tours. 

They are rangers.