Absolutely pre-fabulous

My dream, however, was a little less palpable: it was the sound that was going to greet me as soon as I entered and closed the door behind me. When I say “sound”, of course I was thinking of blessed, unbroken silence. Excited by not having to discuss budgets or expectations with a flatmate or a partner, a series of beautiful visions swirled before me of what my new pad could be like… and so I started looking through the small ads. I used to find pre- fabricated blocks of flats grey, depressing and utterly unromantic, but now they have started to grow on me. Anyone who spent their university years renting “cosy” and “comfortable” digs in an old tenement building that some vandal had divided up into rooms knows what I’m talking about. And if you don’t, you should be happy and grateful that you now have solid, plastic window frames that you can actually close. As well as the apartments that were advertised as having “soul” (probably the ghost of the old granny who died there), I started to investigate the strange world of micro-apartments much more deeply. I just can’t keep up with the number of new terms for this kind of flat. Right now, my favourite is ‘atelier’ (17 sqm including the bathroom and a kitchenette). Basement or semi-basement apartments are euphemistically called ‘low floor’ or – as a rather creative friend of mine more aptly calls them – ‘premium cellar’. And I don’t even want to go into the weird rituals required for meeting a potential landlord for the first time. It seems that after just a few telephone calls, you then have to inform them of all the illnesses in your family going back at least five generations – and then send them a copy of your fingerprints and a written apology (just in case).

As I approach 30, I suddenly find myself getting all sentimental about pre-fabs, despite their poor reputation. Even though they’re too communist, too crude and they lack elegance. And although constructing such buildings is easier, less costly and (surprise, surprise!) more environmentally-friendly, it’s still hard to find anyone today who has a good word to say them. Meanwhile, I insist on bringing home some antique crystal glasses I found at the local market, I dream of having a 1960s chair designed by Henryk Lis, and I’ve been secretly pilfering my grandma’s closet for her vintage dresses. I understand, however, that what I regard as beautiful, others remember from their own experience rather less fondly – and for my parents and grandparents can only remind them of darker times. The new opportunities that the 90s brought in – the new designs, and the Scandinavian furniture company that benignly reigned over us – effectively dragged many people over to the minimalistic and slightly impersonal side. When it comes to flats, it soon turned out that access to light and greenery were only of secondary importance; and if there are no bike storage facilities, you can always hang yours up on the wall. As for borrowing a cup of sugar from your neighbour, your best bet is probably to lean out from your balcony over to someone living in the opposite building.

But now my story has come full circle and I write these words sitting in a warm studio apartment of human-sized proportions, and yet without the ceiling-mounted cupboards that I so adore (they are the best invention ever – and I will defend those words until my dying breath). However, I do have an oven (and believe you me such a device is for some reason not considered an essential kitchen fitting) and I’ve got a bath (everyone has their own definition of luxury!) I’m on the thirteenth floor and I’ve got a superb view of the entire neighbourhood. I’m also living on the exact same estate where I spent the first three years of my life (although I don’t actually remember any of that). But then, as I stepped out onto my balcony to indulge in a small addiction (is smoking roll-ups just more atavistic yearning for the “good” old days?), a banner advertising a new development on the other side of the street caught my attention. Just a little research was enough to find out that in two years’ time the wonderful view from my new apartment will disappear behind a massive new tower block.