Small, But Not Minimal

Back in 2014, I came across this tiny apartment on Refinery29. I loved it right away because it shows that small-space living doesn't have to be minimalistic or impersonal. Today, I saw that the very same apartment is now for sale (for more than half a million dollars!) Of course, like any apartment for sale, the place has been staged with fewer belongings for an airier look. I thought I'd repost it here as a reminder that small does not have to mean minimalist. This apartment, which was also featured on Curbed.com at the time, really feels like someone's personal home—filled with antiques, collections, and art.

Check out the difference between the staged and unstaged living space below, and my original notes on the design below that:

The "bedroom" and "dining room" both fold away. This view of the living room shows the apartment with the Murphy bed and the dining table both folded away. It looks a lot like any New York City apartment's living room to me, which I like.

See the Murphy bed unfolded below.

Small Space Inspiration: Windsor Terrace

I read dozens of interior design magazines every month, and after pages and pages of home inspiration, it is rare that a house or an apartment really strikes a chord with me. This month's issue of Dwell grabbed my attention with its small spaces coverline. Inside I was disappointed to find that many of the "small spaces" were actually people's guests houses or other auxiliary structures. However, one apartment really caught my attention.

This one-bedroom apartment in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn belongs to a family of three (soon-to-be four), and it has completely changed my thinking about where we might live next. This apartment makes me believe less is more. I love the renovation solutions this couple employed -- and the spirit that guided that their choices. You can read the full story on Dwell.com.

A floor-to-ceiling sliding wall panel divides the parents' "bedroom" from the main living space.

Custom built-in cabinetry hides the couple's queen-size Murphy bed. (I am a BIG believer in the magic of Murphy beds, by the way--and I speak from personal experience.) 

The Murphy bed in action!

A view from the bedroom looking out to the living area.

The apartment's kitchen is a clean and simple galley design. I love the idea that you can splurge on materials like a marble counter, if you opt for a smaller space. 

Find more of the space after the jump.

Murphy Beds in the NYT

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I am a one-woman cheerleading squad for Murphy beds. Naturally, I was thrilled to see a Murphy in this week's Home & Garden section of The New York Times. The whole article about architect Gary Chang's amazing studio apartment.

Teeny Tiny Apartments

There's an interesting article in the San Francisco Chronicle today about a new residential development of "micro units" (studios measuring less than 350 square feet). While the design looks fresh and modern, the article's secription doesn't sound like the best use of the space. The article refers to two-burner cooktops and mini sinks. I managed to have a four-burner stove with an oven and a full-size sink in my little studio on 10th Street, which makes me wonder why they couldn't have fit in here. I also think staging the spaces with sofa beds is a little silly--I don't know anyone who'd opt for a sofa bed as her day-to-day bed. Do you? What about a Murphy bed?

Murphy's Law

The thing that made this very small apartment livable was my Murphy bed. Without it I would have had a living space that was dominated by my bed. It was my mother’s idea initially, and truth be told, I thought she was nuts. But a little research and a nice gay man I met at a party, who had a Murphy bed of his own and swore that it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to his apartment, changed my mind. I looked in the city, but the Murphy bed showroom here was overwhelmed with bad reports at the Better Business Bureau. My Murphy-loving pal had ordered his directly from a website based in Florida (I think), and had it delivered to his home.

Lacking a doorman and the nerve to attempt self-assembly, I drove out to The Original Murphy Bed headquarters one day to order my new bed. I don’t remember the sales pitch or the level of Murphy I opted for exactly, but I am pretty sure I took the middle road, neither the cheapest nor the most extravagant Murphy with the simplest cabinetry. (I use the mattress I already owned.) A few weeks later it arrived in a van with a man, who assembled the whole kit and caboodle in less that two hours. (For the record, a reasonably handy person could assemble one her/himself.)

I love my Murphy bed. I have no idea why there isn’t a Murphy bed in every apartment in Manhattan. Hell, NYU should invest heavily in the Murphy Bed Company and have them installed in every dorm room in the city. As Arianne Cohen pointed out in a recent article in New York magazine, “With Manhattan’s real-estate market peaking at an all-time-high average of $1,083 per square foot, the necessary 28.125 square feet of space for a full-size bed now holds a net worth of $30,459 ($31,022 in Soho; $31,612 on the Upper West Side).” $30,459! I promise, Murphy bed dozing is nothing like sleeping on a cot, as some people assume it must be. And having lived in an apartment with a loft bed for a year, it is an infinitely more appealing solution. Admittedly there’s nothing suave about suggesting to fold the bed out of the wall during a make-out session with your latest crush, but that is the price you have to pay when trying to make the most of a small space.

The Little House on 10th Street

This tiny apartment has been my home for the last three years, and I will be moving soon. Clocking in at a mere 277 square feet, my home is truly little. But it has been a wonderful place to live and I will be heart broken to leave it behind. It is the first home I owned. It is the place I have lived the longest since I arrived in New York eight years ago. It is a space that is filled with my life.

Many of people couldn’t imagine living in my shoebox and wouldn’t care to dream of folding away the Murphy bed each morning, but I have always been happy here. My friends have always remarked that I, “made the most of the space,” shaking their heads at the bed in the wall and the half-size fridge, but no one has complained about the Murphy bed out loud — at least, not yet. This apartment was christened with a house warming of more than thirty people, each guest pressing elbows with the next: people spilling into the halls. I’ve had dinner parties of up to eight guests around my coffee table, and I even cooked a full lobster dinner for friends one February night. (Everything smelled like shellfish for a week afterwards despite multiple moppings.) Lobster wasn’t the end of culinary ambitions in a kitchen fit for munchkins, at one point during my unemployment, I ran a make-shift catering business out of my miniature kitchen, using the fire escape as extra fridge space.

Houseguests while not out of the question always did have to share my full-size bed (including my mother when she stayed). I had three people sleep the night only once, when I had my sister in my bed and our 6-foot tall friend Mandy curled up on my love seat sofa. My old roommate even lived here with me for a week while he sorted things out with his life.

I have had so many good days here and so many friends to enjoy them with. So much fit in to such a small space. But it was enough. It was an embarrassment of riches: This little house in the city that I could actually call my own.