For much of the past century, Brooklyn was the Rodney Dangerfield of boroughs, known for its blue-collar style, for its funny accent and, of course, for getting no respect.

Then came the brownstone homesteaders and the bohemian pioneers. They turned lunch-bucket warrens in Park Slope, Dumbo and Williamsburg into glamorous destinations, drawing a flood of well-schooled young men and women who were attracted by quaint yet affordable homes, outdoor cafes, bicycle lanes and the neighborhoods’ sometimes self-parodying artisanal, sustainable and locavore ethos.

Brooklyn somehow, against all odds, became an internationally recognized icon of cool.

The sudden physical and cultural transformation has been endlessly debated. Yet to many longtime residents in some of the borough’s unaffected corners — in the rough-edged and timeless Brooklyn that has endured in places like Gerritsen Beach, Marine Park, Sheepshead Bay, Brownsville and East New York — the renaissance is still being watched with amusement, nervousness and even dismay.

In these neighborhoods, rarely mentioned in the city’s tourist literature, some shrug off the re-branding of their home borough as so much tinsel or distant thunder having little to do with their lives, while others worry about being forgotten altogether. Still others express outright resentment that they have not enjoyed the fruits of Brooklyn’s more modish reputation. Shuttered factories in places like Dumbo remind them of lost jobs rather than the expensive lofts that beckon from glossy advertisements.