From the front of the room, a growing bald spot shines above a short, graying ponytail as a man turns around to greet acquaintances and survey the crowd. With this move he reveals a neon green protest note resting upon the tops of the thin black rims of his eyeglasses. As he struggles to keep the bright "Your Mission...Not theirs" notice perched atop his spectacles, a woman with dark brown spiral curls held back by a vintage silk handkerchief tied in messy bow, takes her seat behind him. Her oversized gold heart-shaped hooped earrings glisten beneath the fluorescent lighting of City Hall's room 400 as her head swivels to acknowledge familiar faces in a sea of flannel button-downs and hand-knit scarves. These two are some of the first among hundreds to make their way across the city through the cold and rain to Civic Center Plaza on this dreary Thursday afternoon.

Today is February 5, and to some of those gathered here, this is a simple protest, a few months in the making, but to others today symbolizes the convergence of the past, present, and future of the integrity and spirit of their beloved one-of-a-kind community.
It's now 4:30 p.m., more than three hours since this public hearing was first called to order in room 400 at City Hall, but the packed house is only growing stronger. Valencia Street enthusiasts continue to turn up in droves, filling two rooms and spilling into the hallway as the San Francisco Planning Commission holds another of their generally quiet weekly meetings. The unprecedented crowd is here for the headline-making item twelve on today's agenda regarding an American Apparel retail store that is scheduled to open on 988 Valencia Street in San Francisco's quirky, hipster-haven Mission District. The big news has been the local opposition to the proposed American Apparel, ironically a staple brand for the stereotypical Mission resident.

However, as passionate pleas continue pouring in from public speakers, it becomes apparent that this is not an undertaking against American Apparel, but instead a stance for local businesses backed by a sense of territorial pride that will not be reckoned with.
"This is not about being for or against American Apparel. It's about keeping big-box chain stores out of a unique neighborhood," says author and Mission resident Stephen Elliot, who founded the "Stop American Apparel" Wordpress blog and Google Group. He also creates flyers and events for the cause. With three American Apparel locations within San Francisco's seven by seven city limits, Elliot believes that another on Valencia would open the door for large chain stores.

Sharing in Elliot's sentiment, residents and shop owners across generations, philosophies, and aesthetics are coming together, united by their love and belief in a small stretch of land on a single street. Desperate to remain distinguished from the downtown shopping district, and hesitant to be a tourist-driven destination like Haight or Union streets, Valencia Street with its twenty-seven empty and abandoned storefronts is facing a new crossroads. In a place where locals say the American dream is still alive and thriving, they ponder whether the introduction of a popular chain store means evolution or desolation for the heart of Valencia.

Voters passed Proposition G in 2006 with the understanding that cities function best with diverse economies dominated by locally owned businesses, with money circulating within the community. Thus obligating the planning commission to hold public hearings on any proposed chain store for the city, and to decide whether it is appropriate based on the stores already in the area, architectural compatibility, and other considerations, such as the overwhelming public outcry here today.

The energy in the room is evidence that when San Franciscans passed Proposition G, and later declared devotion to the Shop Local movement in 2007, they weren't just bluffing. And with the mayor and the San Francisco Chamber of Commerce jumping on the Shop Local bandwagon, residents and shop owners on Valencia Street thought they were safe from the threat of foreign, formula chains invading their turf.

The Shop Local movement, which gained national momentum in last year's recession-tainted holiday shopping season, champions local businesses and encourages neighbors to buy within their neighborhoods where the money circulate close by.
A recent national survey conducted by the Institute for Local Self-Reliance (ILSR) and other independent business organizations backs this notion, revealing that independent retail businesses are outperforming many chains, and the Shop Local movement is a big factor.

While the study shows that holiday sales for the indie stores surveyed dropped an average of five percent from the previous year, most competing chains saw their numbers drop even lower, falling from 7.7 to 24.2 percent.

However, shopping local is not just an economical issue, but a cultural movement as well. Local restaurants, boutiques, art organizations, and coffee shops are the places that give neighborhoods some of their most distinctive qualities. And with so much regionally grown produce, so many locally created and designed eats and wears, and so many independently owned businesses selling their goods and services in San Francisco, it's hard for one to avoid shopping locally even if they wanted to.

So when a sign was posted in the window of 988 Valencia Street notifying residents that an American Apparel store was slated to take over the spot, residents quickly came together to stop it.

"Do you know the story of the English starling?" John "Chicken" Rinaldi asks. "In 1890 a helpless romantic named Eugene Schieffelin released songbirds that had some connection to Shakespeare. He thought that having the birds singing would be beautiful. Without realizing it, he introduced an invasive species entering a healthy, but fragile eco system. The starling became an infestation by the 1930s," Rinaldi, a Mission personality and former business owner, wrote in an open letter appealing to the community and the Planning Commission.

"What began as a romantic gesture turned into an infestation. The Valencia Corridor is a fragile ecosystem. No place like it exists anymore. Anywhere. It is not uncommon or rare. It's a singularity. Weird little shops. Neat nightlife. Holistic healing potions. Bike lane. Cafes. Books. Wiccan shops. A friggin' pirate store," he writes.

Now standing at the podium before the planning commission, a middle-aged woman speaks. Her voice is trembling as she describes a rundown Valencia Street from more than a decade ago, when she says she couldn't even get friends to venture into her neighborhood. Having witnessed the organic transformation of her street into a thriving community-driven commercial strip, she can't stand to see Valencia become another generic strip mall.

"No one I know goes to Paris to go to Starbucks," she states.
As the hours pass, the eccentricities and imaginations of each individual who takes to the podium mirror the look and feel of the street they have come to represent. And, like the shops and storefronts that line Valencia Street from Thirteenth to Cesar Chavez streets, the people that own, operate, and shop within them are a clear indication of the unparalleled unique perspective and unrivaled passion that the lifestyle on Valencia Street depends on.

Valencia Street has become one of the last remaining markets in the city to stay true to the promises of Proposition G. It is a place of self-reliance, where an independent art dealer can afford to stay in business, because the neighboring restaurant owner can afford to buy a painting every once in a while, because the hairdresser down the street recommends all her clients to eat there, and she keeps a vintage store in business by buying and selling all her clothes, bartering her former favorites for her latest fancies.
The Shop Local movement is not another new age gimmick but an inherent aspect of this community. It is a part of the character and heart of the street, and that's what the people here want to maintain.

It looks like for now, at least, they have succeeded. With less than a week past the planning commission hearing, American Apparel apologetically pulled out of their contract to inhabit 988 Valencia Street.

"Seeing this strong public reaction to our potential effects on a neighborhood forces us to pay even more attention to the issue of gentrification and the impact of our new stores. Maybe we're not a fit for the Mission, but we love the neighborhood and are glad there are people out there this passionate about protecting its character," an official statement reads.

However, as the economy continues to fluctuate, and the cutting edge popularity of the Mission District continues to attract outsiders, this battle has been won, but it's clear the war to keep this street one of a kind has just begun.