Moving From "Hip" Carroll Gardens to Jackson Heights

Credit: Streeteasy.com

Our offer on an apartment today was accepted! It's a 2 BR in Jackson Heights, where I think Ross and I will be very happy. For half the price, no, one-third the price of a Carroll Gardens 2 BR we're getting 1100 square feet in a full-service building, with a live-in super and porters and a doorman and — yes! — a parking garage!

It's a fixer upper, of course. This photo above is actually the same apartment two floors down, already renovated. But it gives you an idea of how lovely ours will be when I'm through with it. The one we're buying sadly looks like this right now:

Same apartment, un-renovated

I know! It's hard to believe it's the same apartment. But I'm not daunted. I love a good renovation project!

I'd have liked to remain in Carroll Gardens. Truth. I have grown to love my old Brooklyn neighborhood. But it's become so hip now that we are simply priced out. So, it's with the same pioneer spirit that I once approached Carroll Gardens when it was anything but hip, with only one good restaurant to boast of on Smith Street (RIP: Patois), that I head to a new neighborhood — Jackson Heights, Queens — where with the proceeds from the Brooklyn sale we can "trade up" to a spacious 2BR and still have $ leftover to renovate it to my crazy-specific taste.

This renovation is going to take a lot of sweat and a good deal of cash.

The living room boasts an ugly wall of mirrors circa 1970s that will have to be removed. I think I'd like my bookshelves to go there. The floors, while gorgeous 1940s oak, have been nearly destroyed by "pet damage". Kitchen and bath, though advertised as "recently renovated," were updated on the cheap in "builder beige".

The work that was done to the kitchen while not to my taste at least appears sound, however, the bathroom is a shambles, with telltale signs of a poorly executed DIY. The faucets for both tub and shower as well as the shower heads are all crazily off-center. WTF! And the bathtub was installed backwards, with the faucet hanging over the backrest. Do you find it strange that the tub even has a shower head? There is a entirely separate shower stall — let's file that under weird things people do that we'll never comprehend.

I'm sure there are some out there who might bemoan my pulling out new tile because I don't like the color. But when a renovation has been shoddily executed as this one was, it's likely bad things are going on behind the walls. We'll need to take this room down to the studs to ensure that corners weren't cut on other things that really matter — that pipes and wires and wet board are up to code and there are no leaks that might come back to haunt us later.

Even if I hadn't concerns about this shoddy workmanship, mere esthetics would dictate I that update the backwards tub and the tile. We intend to live in this home a long time and there's no way I'm living with porky pink-beige tile. Why do people insist on choosing these godawful pink beiges? It can't just be that cost considerations. White subway tile is the least expensive option and it always looks classic, timeless, and beautiful. That is probably what we will go with.

I looked up on Streeteasy.com some of the other available units in this building that still have the original bathrooms — and as you'd expect, they had classic black and white subway tile. To think, someone thought all this beige-y blandness was an improvement over classic subway tile is just baffling to me.

                                                                    Original subway tile, circa 1946                              Photo: Horowitz Real Estate

Look at that original basket-weave floor! If this were my bathroom, I would simply re-grout the tile, have the tub refinished, restore the sink to what was likely a pedestal originally, and call it a day.

If I could advise those who are selling in Jackson Heights, I'd say don't "renovate" a place just to sell it. Clean it up, certainly. Remove carpeting to expose hardwood floors, remove window air conditioners that block light, remove iron bars that block windows, skim-coat the plaster, paint the whole place a sleek modern gray, then list it for a fair price. It will sell. Leave renovations to the next owner. They'll have their own ideas, and they'll appreciate not having to pay for your half-assed renovation.

Okay, off my soapbox!

The bones of this apartment are truly beautiful, and these projects don't daunt me in the slightest. I look forward to rescuing this home and restoring its charm. With an agreement in place and the contract going out to the lawyers today, I'm heading over to my contractor Henry to get his estimates, so I can start to plan my next renovation!