So here's the story: We met our new landlord through our moms (the landlord's and mine), 6,500 miles away back in our hometown (the landlord's and mine). They (our moms) happened to be chatting at the gym one day and discovered that both their children happened to live in Shanghai. One had just finished renovating a 1930s apartment back to its former glory; the other just happened to want to move.
The old apartment was just never us, as much as we tried hanging our art, putting up our photos, and displaying our treasures (remember the ladders?). The building was cold and sterile, not mention the fact that the ceiling leaked and mold was growing on the walls.
Full of style and character, the new apartment is done impeccably well. If Mr. Gatsby would have had a small home in Shanghai, this would have been it. It makes me want to get a flapper dress made at the fabric market and take up smoking with one of those stick things (a quellazaire, Google tells me); Mike can wear his tuxedo and call his friends, "old sport."
This weekend we'll be making a few purchases for the new place and doing a proper photo shoot because it's deserving of one. In the meantime, here's another preview:
Congrats on finding a new place! It sounds lovely.
ReplyDelete