The first and most obvious attribute of Coketown is the bricks. Every building is made out of bricks, which are stained by the smoke coming out of the apparently hundreds of fumes coming from factories. The one thing that sticks out is that purple river that runs through the city, foul-smelling with chemicals, and the black canal where all seems to flow into.
Coketown is like a robotic, over-industralized city. No aesthetic value is given to anything with the exception of maybe one or two churches who broke the mold by merely adding minor details but, like the story says itself: "All was fact, fact, fact"; concrete, and similar- The infirmary could have been the jail, or anything else. All was alike and the same.
With the people it was the same story- According to Dickens, they did not make any differentiation from one day to another because they all did the same thing, entered and left their homes and the same time, and had the same routine every single day without stopping. So, in general, for the sake of productivity, life and quality are lost forever in a brick jungle of unhappy people.