Denton, TX

Texas is a state you usually don’t associate with liberalism, except for the sparkling hipster hub of Austin. Yet, there is a city in the north that replicates the ‘weird’ charm of the state’s capital. Denton, Texas. A stone’s throw from Dallas, the college town sets itself apart from the rugged conservative terrain of the rest of the state through its dazzling personality that has helped to attract the coolest of cool.

The square acts as the pulsating heart of Denton’s aesthetic appeal. With coffee shops, candy meccas, a cinema and thrift stores, the square holds everything one could need, illuminated by the fairy lights around the gothic cathedral of a courthouse.

Pascales, sitting above Andy’s Bar, is where the Denton hotshots come to get crunk. With a sophisticated aura, the place, owned by Denton natives Midlake, is ablaze with fancy cocktails among the humdrum of chess playing patrons, majestic bookshelves and quirky paintings.

Down on Fry Street a string of drinking palaces glow invitingly, intermixed with late-night food joints for post-bars replenishing. Lucky Lous is the perfect venue for Sunday fun. You can guzzle a $2 luminous green frozen margarita while throwing a beanbag. And if that doesn’t satisfy, you can always try a “cheap fuck” with a “red headed slut” from their eclectic shots menu.

 Other bars include Cool Beans, with $4 double Jim Bean and mixer and a big outdoor space complete with American flag decorated chairs to help turn binge drinking into a patriotic sport. If $4 is looking too pricey, Side Bar and Public House offer cheap drinks and a chance to get low to 90s jamz. Grind trains are inevitable.

 But it’s not all just watering holes and fishbowls. Pops of colour sprout from inbetween bungalowed cafes, under bridges and on the side of coffee shops through graffiti and murals hammered onto surfaces by fledgling artists.  Denton is an urban canvas with a certain je ne sais quois.

Where else can you head to a house party and find yourself in the middle of a showcase of local music? In a dude’s converted garage, three bands from the area sing to the swarms of people. It’s unbearably humid inside, and you find yourself rubbing up with strangers in the sweat-soaked euphoria of arrogant drunkenness. You don’t understand what vibe the opening guy is going for with his experimental approach, making odd sounds and pausing halfway through his set to venture outside and get himself another beer. But you don’t care. With long dirty blonde hair sitting upon his bare torso, he epitomises the effortlessly hip attitudes of the Denton elite. Caught in a web of mason jars, marijuana and maki, Denton kids could be at home in the borough of Brooklyn.

Despite the plethora of deadbeats, cruising couches and skipping rent, Denton provides a merging of arts. It’s the college town where North Texans, shying away from the conservative pretentiousness of Dallas, come to get creative.

In the Rocky Horror Picture Show, during the song “Damnit Janet,” a sign stands behind the duo as they sing to each other. “Denton. The home of happiness.” And aesthetically, its true.