Newly minted Angelenos Phillip (left) and Darien pose with their cat.
My partner, Darien, and I had pretty much always dreamt about a move to Los Angeles, but never thought it would actually happen. So when Darien, an emergency-medicine doctor, actually got a job offer—before COVID-19 swept America—it felt surreal. Then the pandemic hit, which made in-person preparations (and goodbyes to our friends and family) a logistical impossibility. Unfortunately, emergencies are evergreen, so we boarded the plane with our one-way tickets, cats, and masks in tow.
One rental car later, and we pulled up to our new home in Manhattan Beach. The movers were waiting for us outside, all smiles. We’d settled on our new neighborhood out of sheer convenience (Darien’s hospital was just 15 minutes away), but we were informed just prior to our arrival by one well-meaning gay Instagram influencer that the location would be “social suicide,” and he offered his sincerest condolences for our decision. However, after a decade of working in New York media, a quiet place within walking distance of the beach sounded…perfect, actually.
Our movers had to remove and replace a giant eight-foot-tall glass window in order to fit a yellow, absurdly large Milo Baughman velvet sofa into the living room. They were thrilled that it fit.
Finding the place was well more than half the battle, though. A couple of friends insisted that in order to navigate the trickier-than-usual landscape, I’d need a real estate agent. As luck would have it, they both recommended the same woman for the job: Aiesha Bailey Mannle. Aiesha found us three locations in under 48 hours and had an appointment booked for our top choice. She called us from the property to give a video tour, opening every cabinet and closet door and pointing out every eccentricity of the space. The house was built in the 1920s, so “flaws” were everywhere. Since we were looking to rent sight unseen, we had to trust that Aiesha interpreted “charm” and “character” the same way we did.
We spent an entire weekend going through bottles of wine and hanging art all over the walls.
The first two months of L.A. living were spent entirely on decorating and settling into the house. I refused to live with boxes for more than a weekend, so we successfully unpacked and broke down all our boxes within 24 hours. Then I made our decorating game plan. As soon as the lease was official, I was able to send over the website listing of our place to the folks at Modsy, who then helped me with renderings for the two main focal points of the house: the living room and the dining room. We moved the couch and the bookshelf to the places they appeared in the rendering. We envisioned our gallery wall, mounted the television on top of the fireplace—we even knew which corners needed plants. Whenever my partner would argue over a detail (like, for example, the placement of an oversized rug in the living room), I didn’t have to exert an opinion. I’d just pull up the rendering on my phone and smile sweetly: “This is what the designers said. See?” Modsy effectively took all the arguing and guesswork out of designing a space, which is a tall order, especially when two gay men are involved.
We painted the dark gray staircase in our foyer white, then added splashes of yellow to give the built-in shelving units throughout the apartment a more modern vibe. Rather than try my hand at the various nurseries in L.A. (plants out here put even New York’s finest shops to shame), I sent a DM to Freak Plants on Instagram, and he curated every piece of green in the house.
The renderings also helped me feel less overwhelmed by the prospect of shopping for the space. I’d compiled a spreadsheet of all the vintage places that had caught my eye on Instagram, and made it a point to schedule appointments with anyone accepting shoppers. A trip to Vintage on Point in Boyle Heights yielded a midcentury-modern dresser by Broyhill, a custom coffee table, and two custom chairs. At Hernandez Furniture in West Hollywood, we nabbed a midcentury teak dining table with matching chairs. I waved goodbye to my credit score as I charged an order from the Noguchi Museum for lamps, and some ceramics from Giselle Hicks. CB2 came in handy for a bookshelf and a guest daybed that converted into a full mattress, just in case.
The bathroom evaded me to no end. I loved the pink tile of the sink and the shower, but the walls looked a little beat up. If there was a “sad” space in the apartment, this was it. Normally, I would never put up wallpaper in a rental, but as soon as I saw the pink “Busted” pattern from Work + Sea, I knew it would completely transform the space.
My partner insisted multiple times throughout this process that I was investing too much time, energy, and (of course) money into our new space. I will give him one thing: He may have been right about the money part. But in all honesty, one thing the pandemic showed me is how important it is to keep a home. None of us really know how much longer we’ll be staying inside, either by choice or by public health guidance, so I figured, why not make the most of it?
|
发表于 2020-10-24 04:54:11
v
