In his 2002 book All the Devils are Here, David Seabrook wrote: “There’s no money in Margate. Eye contact has replaced it as the root of all evil”.

Original editions of that cult classic had a picture of the entrance to Dreamland as the front cover, the newer edition displays the skyline, with an arrow pointing at Arlington House.

Needless to say, it used to have a reputation for poverty and crime, the fate of many faded resort towns and other corners of the Kent coast.

The town centre remains a scene of devastation – boarded-up buildings, betting shops and chain fast food places – but the area around the Old Town is quite vibrant, an outpost of the much-derided “DFLs” (Down-From-London).

That abbreviation crops up often in local politics – especially around planning and housing.

Any unwanted housing development is painted as a boon to the legion of DFLs waiting to colonise Kent’s countryside; an Aztec signal fire to the latter-day Cortezes priced out of Shoreditch.

This internal xenophobia probably bedevils local politics all around the country, but through the handy abbreviation it’s a prominent rhetorical feature here.

Local councils struggle to provide their sub-par services to the population they already have, housing prices are outrageous and seem to be staying that way; these forces help structure perceived economic competition into political conflict between the ‘true locals’ and the outsiders.

DFLs in particular are associated with gentrification – and it would be hard to argue that Margate and Folkestone have experienced anything other than that.

Those two towns in particular have changed significantly – houses have gotten pricier (not that that’s unique), shops catering to a more trendy and well-to-do customer base have become more common.

Despite the real and perceived influx of wealth, the poverty which already existed in those towns has generally been relocated, and slips out like a herniated disc between the vintage clothing shops and art galleries.

Ideally, local councils should have enough financial autonomy to give them more means of raising money and for whole areas to benefit from new arrivals, new developments and new businesses.

With the convoluted system of Community Infrastructure Levies and Section 106 payments, and ever-inflating prices for councils’ statutory responsibilities, that’s clearly not happening as it stands.

Regardless, the changing economic profile of Folkestone and Margate is progress of a sort.

Maybe Dover will be next – it has beautiful housing and enviable countryside around it – but currently the town centre is a wasteland...

Many locals perceive Folkestone’s makeover – signified in the “Folkestone is an art school” graffiti at its Central train station – to be somewhere between twee and snooty.

Regardless of aesthetic preferences for the arty theme and people it attracts, it’s hard to argue it isn’t an improvement.

The town feels lively, has colour in its shopfronts and attracts plenty of visitors.

I would imagine people living in Cliftonville – some areas of which are among the poorest wards in the UK – aren’t the main clients of the ethical homeware shops and vintage clothing resale businesses which call the nearby Old Town of Margate home.

Regardless, in towns already well-stocked with cornershops, barbers and bookies, it’s surely better to have such businesses than none at all.

The nature of the housing market is such that people are likely being priced out of Margate and Folkestone by those who were once priced out of London, through no ill will on the part of anyone in particular.

Maybe Dover will be next – it has beautiful housing and enviable countryside around it – but currently the town centre is a wasteland.

If the DFLs come to town and bring with them vegan cafes and pottery shops, it won’t be the travesty many might construe it to be, it would just be nice if by that point the benefits can be felt by everyone.