NFH #001: In Praise of The Personal

Before I became a real estate agent, one of my hobbies was Redfin. More than a purely voyeuristic scrolling habit, it allows you to create a new life in your mind. You imagine all the updates you might make to that cool but run down Southern California mid-century (keeping the original terrazzo floors in-tact of course) or the vintage furniture you could buy for that a-frame cabin in the mountains. You imagine not only the ways you could change a home, but the ways a home could change you. That expansive backyard would allow you to take up vegetable gardening. The upstate country house has easy access to cross-country skiing.

I know I’m not alone in this real estate fantasy world. There’s even an episode of the HBO show Silicon Valley that mentions this phenomenon. But when it comes to the real-life choices we make, our imagination tends to dissipate. Far more numerous than these inspiring homes are listings for dull, lifeless and downright boring houses—spec homes of yore, cheap and poorly executed flips or the ubiquitous “millennial gray” remodel. New builds and updated older homes all seem outfitted with the same limited selection of flooring, countertops, cabinets and tiles, becoming indistinguishable from one another.

This sameness is not a new phenomenon. Pete Seeger recorded ”Little Boxes” in 1964, a song written by Malvina Reynolds in satiric reaction to the uniform post-war housing developments springing up in the hills of the San Francisco suburbs. Clearly the sentiment resonated at the time; “Little Boxes” was Seeger’s only charting single. But at least in the neighborhood of the song “there’s a green one, and a pink one, and a blue one, and a yellow one.” In contrast, today’s new or recently remodeled housing stock seems to be issued exclusively in bloodless non-colors or the pervasive black-and-white of the “modern farmhouse” style.

What accounts for this homogenization? There are the macro explanations of shifting societal structures and economic trends of the last 50 years or so. Our workplaces have become more transient, causing people to move homes more frequently. Why deviate from the norm if you plan to stay only three or five years? The post-‘08 residential market has also seen an influx of investors big and small with the goal of a quick flip or rental income. Housing is now less about creating a stable home and more about ROI, even for individual homeowners. The family home has become the primary vessel of generational wealth transfer. This financialization of the places where we live leads to a devaluing of individual style; every tile or paint selection is made with resale in mind. A neutral color choice or minimal styling is perceived as safe and therefore appealing to a future buyer or renter.  Drained of all color or discernible style, these houses lay bare their true purpose; financial speculation.

Yet I don’t think the greige-ification of modern domestic life can be entirely explained by rentier capitalism and a decade and a half of historically low interest rates. There also seems to be a psychological aspect to our collective chromophobia—an idea that colors are pretty but for other people. Instagram and Pinterest are awash with images of bold design choices and bright interiors of every imaginable variety, but this too can lead to dull design. With so many inputs coming across our feeds, it's very difficult to hone in on our own aesthetic preferences, and the increased speed of the trend cycle makes it hard to commit. In a previous era, homes were fitted and furnished with items that could be procured locally, or perhaps something you made yourself, inherited or purchased while traveling. Many of the postwar homes I see here in the DFW metroplex feature bathrooms outfitted in a matching combo of American Standard porcelain fixtures and ceramics from the local Dal-Tile, founded in 1947 on the cusp of the midcentury housing boom. These packages were offered in a relatively narrow range of choices (there’s a green one, and a pink one….) My own home sports both the pink and baby blue versions. Now, overwhelmed with the nearly infinite selection of decor and finishes available in big box stores and online, we wind up settling for the safe, efficient and economical. 

So what is the antidote to these forces of neutralness? Nancy Silverton, the much-lauded Los Angeles chef and baker, talks about her approach to cooking not as an act of creativity but of personalization. Her goal is not to create new dishes but to take in and process the existing paradigms to make her own perfect example of a chocolate chip cookie, or pizza, or pudding. I think this mindset can be productively applied to our homes as well. There’s no need to think of home design and decorating as a daunting act of invention. Personalization is the answer. This doesn’t require a custom build or gut remodel. Basic changes like fresh paint, new hardware, or vintage light fixtures can take a home from insipid to interesting.  

Of course, defining and refining that personal sense of style requires the effort to understand ourselves, and that understanding isn’t just knowing what looks good to us; it also comes from our social, economic and cultural context.  When houses reflect our own preferences and experiences, they allow us to feel something— warmth, serenity, safety, security, familiarity, fun, playfulness, joy. It goes without saying that sometimes the personal can tip over into something more crazy than cozy (we’ve all seen Zillow Gone Wild,) but I’d argue that in a real estate context, offering a property with some color and points of differentiation protects from the ravages of the trend cycle and inspires prospective buyers to imagine themselves in the space. In other words, it makes it feel like home.

To wit: a few examples of personalization that I admire, from the extreme to the subtle.

Artist Katherine Bernhardt’s unhinged post-modern masterpiece. Her take on the Barragan-inspired pink theme sums up my sentiments succinctly, “The color pink makes me happy.”

The work of Jeff Shelton is illustrative of how working within a set of strict parameters can lead to distinctive style. Designing in the Spanish style mandated by the city of Santa Barbara, Shelton creates buildings that are recognizable but special.

More locally, the design of Kaitlyn Coffee’s East Dallas house really embraces its architecture and period details. The use of complementary colors feels super fresh and the casual and layered decoration makes the space approachable and inviting. Kaitlyn is so cool.

And some local listings that get the imagination going!

A whimsical 1930s English-style cottage built for the inventor of the Drumstick (yum.) The lot is amazing. 

Picture yourself poolside, cat-eye sunglasses on, martini in hand, Cadillac convertible in the driveway. This house has so many interesting textures. 

A nice update with some uncommon finishes.

Have thoughts about personal home style? Questions about the real estate market? Drop me a line at hello@erinhahn.com. Thanks for reading!