Ah, Finsbury Park. Equipped with the supersonic Victoria Line, this neighbourhood has enough independent restaurants to keep an army of Deliveroo drivers in business. It also has a medium-sized green space hosting sporting activities for 95 percent of the year and girls in flower headbands singing Drake lyrics for the other five percent. No one really knows what constitutes this all-powerful Islington/Hackney/Haringey mash-up (does Stokey count? Holloway? Crouch End?) but you know you live in Finsbury Park when...
...you've lifted your phone above the heads of an angry mob at 8.15am to send a photo of closed tube gates to your boss at least three times this week. The picture probably isn’t necessary, but the mob mentality routinely convinces you otherwise.
...you campaigned via Facebook against the closure of The Silver Bullet but a) didn't part with your money in the hope that everyone else did b) scoffed at heavy metal music and c) barely even noticed it was there due to escaping from Station Place as quickly as humanly possible.
...you and your friend from the Seven Sisters Road exit have a strategic, verging-on-military-standard operation when it comes to shopping at Lidl. Whether you're a 7am trooper or 10.55pm rusher, you know better than to brave the aisles during that post-work apocalypse. If you're a committed N4-er, you book a day off to do that big shop you've been dreaming of.
...bitching about your proximity to UAL’s halls of residence backfired when you found yourself developing a style crush on the girl with pink hair and regularly getting some Pinterest-worthy fashion inspiration on your commute.
...The feeling of walking home from Rowans full of slush puppy margaritas makes you smug to the point of swearing against ever going clubbing in central London again. That is until the morning, when you realise the half-hour trek from zone 1 you used to hate actually did a good job of sobering you up before bed.
...You’ve been in a constant state of stress since Dotori mysteriously closed in August. You live in hope that one day you’ll be walking past on a Lidl-related mission and discover its doors wide open — sunlight pouring in; staff with their arms stretched ready to welcome you with insanely good value £6 bento boxes — and realise it was all a dream.