On trend but not debased
ON MY WAY TO A PHOTO-SHOOT in New Jersey, I found myself on Route 17, the spine that led to my childhood hometown, where I grew up in a 1951 “colonial ranch.” I took the exit down memory lane. Standing in front of where the house should be, I was momentarily confused, because a twostorey neo-Victorian had swallowed it. Overall, it wasn’t terrible; still, the horizontal ranch was ghosted beneath the new façade. “Well, that’s poetic justice,” I thought, as I had sung the praises of Victorian houses during my tenure at Old House Journal during the 1980s and ’90s. My neighborhood in Gloucester has several neo-Victorians, ranging from a mirror-image duplex that literally came off a truck to a multimillion-dollar neo-Queen Anne tower house on prime Atlantic Ocean real…