this is my current living room. i know, i'm just bragging at this point.
So, the hubby and I are toying with the idea of leaving our delightful apartment - in its amazing location, with its awesome layout for two, and the roof deck I love - for the possibility of a house. A HOUSE in New York. This, my friends, is scary business. But of course my hands are itching at the idea of a whole house to decorate.
pretty sure this is an independent raccoon nation.
I am, of course, sweating bullets over this just-out-of-our-price-range-by-a-few-measly-100Ks heap of a falling down mansion in Prospect Lefferts. I would have no way of properly renovating it, because it has multiple collapsed ceilings, more holes than walls, black mold visible even in the realtor's photos, ugly stair railings (gross, seriously, who picked that?), and - I assume - a horde of raccoon tenants with a watertight lease.
no big deal. NO BIGGIE.
We will probably instead settle for a mediocre little outdated row house somewhere that just needs some kitchen upgrades and a lot of paint. Everything in Brooklyn is $100 million dollars with all-cash requirements and surprise! windows half-falling out of their frames. Sigh.
But this makes me want to chronicle, before we move, the process behind our delightful apartment. A love letter to the Skytrack Building, which is maybe possibly a goodbye letter? Maybe not. But a love letter nonetheless. Because THIS is what it looked like when I first saw it:
mirror, mirror, WHY ARE YOU EVERYWHERE?
My friend recently described it as what Bret Easton Ellis's brain would vomit up for a coke dealer's set-piece. Everything was gray and pink. There were a lot of walls that did not reach the ceiling with no clear structural purpose, all of which stepped down like a crenellation in some acid-trip castle from 'Labyrinth'. There were beveled mirrors everywhere. And oh, did I mention, it hadn't had the electricity turned on in 6 years and had more liens against the property than it was actually listed for?
Love at first sight.