I was bemused, if not exactly surprised, to see our old rental apartment on the market as a co-op, currently priced at $225,000.
The drive-in window from the kitchen to the livingroom is a new (ahem) upgrade, as are the darker, but still rental-quality kitchen cabinets. The only real improvement I see is the absence of an ugly light fixture and its covered wiring in the living room. The maintenance is $700 a month, bringing the monthly payment to over $1600, after you fork over your $45,000 downpayment which you will do because it is non-negotiable. 20% down or die, ok?
Some photos to remember the old homestead by:
Where we dined:
Our former Weiner Werksatte / Art Deco-inspired bedroom:
Blocking the offensive view, during the holiday season:
And the park-found branches we used as a Christmas tree:
Looking back, the place never really came together. This is partly due to my limitations in terms of talent (I admit it), budget and because we only stayed a year, mentally checking out around month 9 when the lease renewal form arrived with its ridiculous increase. Also, I can see that in a lot of the choices there is a desperate sort of cheerfulness, a forced optimism in a lot of the color and stylistic choices, that reflected my need at the time for overt aesthetic consolation. It’s hard to be sad in an ochre bed or around bits of bright orange and I had a lot of bone-deep sadness when we moved into that place. Luckily, this year finds me in a better place, more serene and not needing the perking up of yesteryear.
As for the place itself; it wasn’t a terrible building –laundry, okay management company, close to Prospect Park– but the apartment kind of sucked, in the first analysis and the final. I’m very happy to be living elsewhere, even though we lost 170 square feet.
If you do decide to buy this apartment, imagine this: you will have be able to boast to your friends, “The Studioist actually lived in my apartment. How cool is that?” And they will be impressed. No, astonished.
Also, you will get to keep my wonderful, Krylon-sprayed radiator cover, which we left behind because it wasn’t needed at the new place and we weren’t petty enough to take it with us just because it was ours.
That radiator cover is totally going to sell this place.
