A friend of mine posted a piece of Nora Ephron's the day after she passed away last week. I of course have my favorites that she's written over the years, but my friend is the kind of good writer herself that when she posts something, whatever it is, you read it.
This happened to be a piece called "Moving On," which first ran in the The New Yorker in 2006. What unfolded was a story about a particular apartment that Nora had fell completely, unabashedly, wholeheartedly in love with during a particularly trying time in her life, and followed the sad, yet familiar, dramatic arc that sometimes happens when you slowly fall out of love with a place and move out.
For anyone who's ever loved a place that they've lived in, many of these sentences and emotions will strike straight to the heart. From that knowing feeling the moment you've walked into a place, to paying ridiculous amounts of money (that you justify in similarly ridiculous ways) to the slow realization that a place just might not be right for you anymore. I'm experiencing similar feelings about the apartment I've lived in for two years. I love it here, but man, every time summer comes around and the no-central A/C conditions threaten to do me in, I fall a little bit out of love with it.
Have you ever lived in a place that you loved so much that you paid any price (maybe a little more than you could afford)? Have you ever lived in a place that you ignored the "quirks" for a lot longer than you normally would had you not been completely infatuated? Have you ever moved on from an apartment and ever wondered what you were thinking after the lust wore off?
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I just did this. I fell out of love with my apartment as soon as I bought a house. Everything that I didn't complain as much about before suddenly became forefront in my mind as the most egregious problem with my home because there was now an alternative.
Kind of like PI above, I fell into love with an apartment while falling out of love with my old one. Moving out after ending a 4+ year relationship with my ex, it was hard to see as my things slowly (then all at once when the movers arrived) disappeared and arrived at my new apartment. At the new place, I took the time to scrub every inch, to paint every wall, and to install things like new light fixtures and the air conditioner myself. By the time I was done, the old apartment was a bittersweet reminder of what had been, but the new one was an exciting reminder of the promise of a new start.
Actually, I had the opposite experience. I lived happily in a post-World War II apt w/ wood floors, great windows, a tiny garden, in West Hollywood, rent-controlled -- $435 per month when I moved in. Huge closets. Lots of architectural charm. The only thing that convinced me to move was Prince Charming's marriage proposal.
I moved into his Santa Monica rent-controlled apartment, hating it at first because it was a boxy, popcorn-ceiling cheaply built place with aluminum windows. Fifteen years later (he moved out, sadly,) I love this place.
The secret? Apartment Therapy! By visiting this site over the years, I've learned to cope with the awful architecture and transform it to match my Bohemian/Old New Orleans-style. Now I love it so much I don't think I'll ever leave. If I meet Prince Charming II, he's going to have to move in with me this time. Fortunately, I have 2 bdrms/2 baths!
Thank you for that link. I really enjoyed that article.
Great article, thanks for sharing!
This kind of thing is what makes me wary of buying a house. I, too, have fell out-of-love with several rentals, usually as the prospect of moving into a new on is on the horizon. For homeowners out there, have you experienced a similar falling-out with your house?
Reading the article made me laugh and cry at the same time. 7 years ago I restarted my life; coming back to the states divorced and not knowing what life had in store. I found the perfect downtown apartment and was smitten. I treated it as if I OWNED it, making minor renos here and there with the landlords blessing. Then last Christmas, I decided it was time to break up with my apartment (it wasn't me, it was the non-working plumbing right before I was suppose to have guests over...and the SWAT team down the street asking a guy to come out...etc etc). It forced me to open my eyes and grow up, it was never going to get any better. I bought a house in a nice neighborhood with working toilets and good wiring. I am in like with my house right now and am looking forward to cultivating a long lasting relationship with it.:-)
Sorry, but it's "had fallen".(I know, but that one jars me!)
I have liked most places I have lived, and in nearly every case, I walked in the door and knew I'd be living there, even if I had a bunch of other places to check out before signing a lease. ESP? who knows?
I never "fell out of love" with a place maybe because I have never been IN love with a place. My moving on has always been form a change in circumstances, new job, loss of job, severe rent increase, things like that... I can make pretty much anything I'm willing to live in at all, a happy home for the duration. There are some places I just won't live in.
Never been infatuated with a place. I'm very practical when it comes to real estate nd money. I know what I need to be happy, the very basics...
Q's: can I walk to the stores/dr'soffice/auto repair/--yes I can and I do. I still use my car but I walk a great deal. Do I have a very nice view out most windows? yes. Is the kitchen okay without a reno? --yes. can I sit outdoors / hike nearby ? --yes. as long as these needs are met I don't car how ugly or small other people may think the place is, it's a gem, and I'm happy.
I wish I could afford a place that I truly loved! In NYC rental apartments are mostly about what you can put up with... you really just have to weigh one "con" against another...
Absolutely. I was in love with my friend's apartment, and when she moved out, I had dibs. The rent was cheap for the wonderful location and square footage. I knew it was "quirky" be we moved in, but the coved ceilings, built-ins, vintage bathroom, and a private washer and dryer seduced me. I could paint. I could refinish the floors. I could do whatever I wanted. It was going to be glorious.
Cut to eight months later. It was the dead of summer, I was seven months pregnant, and running the wall A/C caused the apartment to short out almost daily. So did using the dryer. Or pretty much any two appliances at the same time. The bigger my belly grew, the more I knew the dreams I had for sprucing up the place would never happen.
Also, the squirrel family that lived in the walls began to keep us up at night. Not to mention the homeless people who loudly rooted through the dumpster across the alley from our bedroom window at five AM. And the downstairs neighbors who left their dog to bark all morning when they left for work.
The last straw was when we suspected our very neglectful landlord of paying off the city inspector so that he would not have to fix the laundry list of violations the building had earned, including glaring fire safety violations. Yes, the moldings were lovely. And covered in peeling lead paint. I could not bring my baby there. It was time to get out.
We moved when I was 36 weeks pregnant, and I was so happy to be done with my "dream" apartment. Our new place might be a textured-walled, tiny, boring box, but it has central air, no animals in the walls, appliances that work, and lights that you can expect to turn on. And the landlord actually answers my phone calls. Heaven.
I'm in a current state of falling out of love with my rental. It's a darling little house in the woods with so many amazing details. But then there's the constant plumbing issues, the horrid water, the a/c that leaks every summer, and the lack of proper lighting. Oh, and did I mention the electrical problems, and the security issues... Alas. My little delightful dream house is not so delightful any longer. Plus my new furniture just does not fit.
The search for the new love is in process.
Sigh, I never fell out of love with the best apartment ever, but I had to move to New York. I was very excited about the new life ahead of me, and very optimistic about the changes that were coming. Sadly, I went from Shangri La to Shit Hole. I miss my old apartment every day. Yes, I've tried to move forward with my life but every time I see a roach strolling along my kitchen counter I think about how I paid $250 less for my last apartment and never saw any vermin, had much more light, a washer and dryer, a back porch and a beautiful tree right outside my window with a family of blue jays living in it. I hate New York.
I loved our last house (rental) so hard that I was willing to pay first and last month's rent AND the security deposit, when I'd never had to do that before. Then, we lived under our landlord's quiet tyranny for two years. We could not get out of there quickly enough.
I finally took off the rose-colored glasses when I discovered we could pay the equivalent amount of rent and spend that on a monthly mortgage note instead. The apartment was adorable, maybe around 700 sq ft and was west-facing with double paned windows. I was sandwiched between Golden Gate park and the Presidio, had a 20 min. bus ride to work, saw the Golden Gate bridge on my daily commute, and was surrounded by the most delicious Asian restaurants in SF. But now I have 2 patios, a screen door, huge updated kitchen with a dishwasher and garden window, separate living room and dinings rooms separated by the most lovely French doors, a bathroom that is not covered in Pepto Bismol colored tiles, and I could modify the place to my liking. On top of that, there are singing birds, a redwood tree, fruit trees (lemons, pears, apples, cherries), and I'm still within walking distance to great restaurants and the Berkeley Marina. The commute sucks (one hour!) but I'll take it.
We are renters and move dependent on our jobs and child-related resources. I enjoy experiencing different areas and I equally enjoy a new space to decorate. Horrible reasons for other people, but that's me.
Anyway, I loved my first apartment in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney. It started to grate when the Landlord continued to make no improvements and the neighbours were loud backpackers - new tenants (4 - 6 at a time) every few months. I still love that area today, but getting in and out of there is a nightmare! Third place we loved as a family, but again the Landlord made shoddy renovations and during one stormy night, a waterfall happened between our kitchen wall and the neighbours next door. Fourth place we enjoyed for shopping/eating out/train access, but as it was several blocks of units, hearing garage doors opening + closing all day was insane. In our sixth place for 2.5 years, because of the spike in rents, family and schooling. The new Landlord is about to make serious renovations and add a Granny Flat. Depending on the (inevitable) rent increase, we may stay or go. It's our current Real Estate Agent who is wonderful, the best we've dealt with so far.
I'm having as similar experience to yours, Overture. Not pregnant, but just moved from a "quirky" vintage building (1920s) into an architecturally boring place (1950s, but updated inside probably sometime in the aughties) and am finding it more enjoyable on the whole. I think it's tough to find that perfect "vintage" apartment on a budget (grad student stipend budget for me). The two historical apartment buildings I've lived in have had issues. The first had a cool exposed brick wall, gorgeous dark wood floors, extremely tall ceilings and windows, and a German roach problem likely as old as the building itself -- impossible to eradicate at this point. The second had a lot of original vintage features, and perks such as a washer-dryer and dishwasher in unit, but also the peeling paint and chipping wood, as well as some of the original plumbing, which burst and flooded the apartment below us. (After repairing the pipes, they patched the wall with plaster and never repainted it.) Very old buildings need a lot of TLC, not just superficial updates, and I think landlords and property companies willing to invest in and care for those buildings don't charge the cheap rent. I don't think I'll rent another 80+ year old building until I can afford the good ones.
This post was really timely for me.
In three days' time, I am moving from my beautiful 1940's character home (rental). The front porch leaks, the taps drip, the carpets are threadbare and there are things living in the roof. BUT, but...it's big and airy and light, and the ceilings are high. It has a bathtub, and frosted-glass fish on the bathroom mirror, and polished concrete in the laundry. The sun-room has louvred windows and there are heritage roses along the front porch. Neighbourhood cats sun themselves in the grassy back yard all day, and the kitchen has a mint-green laminex dining booth. The back verandah is swathed in wisteria, intertwined with fairy lights. My neighbours are awesome middle-aged hippies, who drop over often for a glass of chilled white wine on my wicker lounges amongst the succulents.
The owner is bulldozing the lot, and building a faux-Tuscan McMansion.
Since the rental market here is at <1% vacancy, I'm moving to a bland, cream-brick, 2-bedroom unit with a tiny paved courtyard at the back. I'm desperately searching for ways to love it, but it's not going to be easy.
...then I remind myself that there are families in this city that have *nowhere* to live, and I'm moving to somewhere clean, quiet and secure, in an upscale neighbourhood. And I shut the heck up.
@CHARLIE26 - I'm glad you put a positive spin on your circumstances.
We were in a tough rental + sales market in 2008 and I had to swallow my pride and move in to my parents. I know most people would say, of course your parents will take you in. But, we were parents ourselves and telling our son we HAD to move in there was tough. After three months we finally moved out, without having to bribe Rental Agents.
I've just spent a couple of weeks mentally 'moving on' from my current house because I believed I was moving away soon.. now that's fell through, I'm suddenly gutted to be staying here for now, even though I loved it beforehand! So yes, I know the feeling..
I love reading all of these comments! When I was 19 or 20 I moved into a small rear apartment that was attached to a very old house. So much character, claw-foot tub (that I never really appreciated until I moved out), and a old kitchen light that used to scare the bejesus out of me. Amazing windows that opened in. I LOVED that little place, that is when I met my future husband, now ex-husband. I only lived there for six months on my own and then we decided to move in together (ahhh, life lessons) and we found a nice place, but nothing ever compared to my own place.
I lived there all that time and never had money for cable, so on moving day I decided to hook the wire into the back of my TV, just to see what would happen. Sure enough, cable was wired and working through the entire apartment!
I have been divorced for 3 years now, I have an 11 year old son and we now live in a medium sized, no character townhouse in-town. I long to have a place all my own with as much character as I have life experience!
*Typos--I should preview before I submit :)
So many neat places to live is my motto, so I'm usually happy to move on.
The only house I could think of that I was sad to leave was the 1935 California Craftsman house I bought in 2005. Sadly, three months later, I lost my job. I eventually had to sell the house and move on for other job opportunities. Man I wish I could have moved the house with me!
@Charlie-I wanted to live in the mental picture that I had of your place! Sweet sorrows, yes, we are all blessed to be able to have the privilege to complain about our not-so-perfect home, when others do not even have a place to call home. I do envy the neighborhood cats sunning themselves in your backyard, I would probably feed them and have every neighborhood cat knocking at my door!
Good luck in your new place. It's seems to me, by your attitude, that you will have no problem making your new place "home."
I always fall for places with tons of character and lots of problems. I just sold my first house, a 1943 fixer-upper. I fell in love with its potential (big mistake) and totally renovated the exterior and lived with a really awful ca. 1960 kitchen for six years, and when I moved for a job, I thought, I'll finally get a kitchen with decent counter space and a dishwasher. And I'll only get a place with two bathrooms!
Yeah, we'll, I'm like one of those women who has bad taste in men and never learns from her mistakes. I had two rental options when I moved: a brand new condo, three stories with hardwood floors and two bathrooms, gorgeous, but, like most condos, surrounded by parking lots, in an ugly neighborhood with no charm, and an absolutely charming, tiny 1920s cottage complete with sunroom, fireplace, and original french doors on a leafy street. Of course, I picked the charmer, which has no dishwasher, less counter space than my old house, and one tiny bathroom with no storage. I couldn't resist, and every day I curse my taste in old charmers. I think I'm an incurable house romantic. I don't believe I'll ever have a dishwasher or two bathrooms...
When I was a renter, I fell for an architecturally re-designed Victorian apartment, with high ceilings, wood floors, a beautiful fireplace, modern kitchen and black shower room (who needs a bathtub?) I fell for the bohemian, but tasteful furnishings and nick-nacks on display. It was only after I lived there for a while that I noticed the damp in the basement bedroom, lack of clothes storage, the draughty original windows, ants in the kitchen, woodworm-destroyed floor boards, and realised that it is near impossible to bath a baby in a shower. It's easy to conjure a certain 'lifestyle'. No amount of window dressing (or apartment therapy) can cover up basic faults for long, though.
I might add that if you are buying your own property, then that is a different matter. You can fix a run-down property over time, but you can't change the location, views or add 'original features' when there were none to begin with. For buyers, it often pays to follow your heart.
Living this now..Due to a cross country job relocation..and a very limited amount of time to scan an area for an apartment, tends to make for hasty decisions one has to live with now that it's summertime and no a/c, lugging laundry up and down fifteen flights, and no garbage disposal! Our apartment has lovely pre war bones and a partial lake view a huge plus.. but not so sure I will be singing it's praises when the lease comes up again.
I miss my palatial mansion in the sky in NYC. I lived there for over 14 years before the landlord evicted me because the rent was so cheap and I had no money for a good lawyer. I left within 14 days of signing a stipulation. My heart breaks to this day, but I'm trying to convince myself that everything happens for a reason.
Once fell totally deeply out of love with an awesome little adobe house I was renting- cheap rent with utilities included, with my little patio off the kitchen, huge kitchen with huge windows & lots of light looking out onto horse pastures, huge living room, 2 bedrooms, laundry room, lots of character... the biggest character of all was the stalker landlord who always seemed to know when I just arrived home & would "just happen" to stop by to see how I was doing, needed anything, etc. Discovered he had a hidden "security" camera & was watching my comings & goings. Creeped out BIG TIME! Still miss that house but the love affair crashed & burned. Have had several rentals that I fell out of love with once leaking plumbing & faulty wire was discovered with landlords having no interest in repairing.