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I Found My Dream Apartment—Then I Looked Under the Sink

Rent Like You Mean It is a series all about giving our rental spaces a new lease. We’ve rounded up a whole host of refreshing spruce-ups (and cover-ups), impactful DIYs (plus how to get them back to square one when you leave), and peeks at real-life re…

Rent Like You Mean It is a series all about giving our rental spaces a new lease. We’ve rounded up a whole host of refreshing spruce-ups (and cover-ups), impactful DIYs (plus how to get them back to square one when you leave), and peeks at real-life rental transformations. Because a lease should never stop you from having a space that feels like yours—even if it’s only for a year.


The story of how we landed this apartment is pretty bonkers—even for New York. It was a dreamy pre-war charmer on the top floor of a fern-green turreted building, a block from the park, balanced like an elephant over the brightly-twirling ball of a popular Italian restaurant downstairs. You could smell the garlic and anchovies through the floorboards and the South-facing window light was blinding. It was the one. After three months and 50-odd viewings, we found ourselves signing a lease. We ordered bookshelves. And right after, we learned that there was an industrial-grade exhaust fan over our roof that roared every day for eight solid hours. As it turned out, it shook the walls so violently you could get a foot massage simply by standing in the center of the master bedroom.

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How to Redecorate Your Space Without Spending a Penny

Now more than ever, home is where many of us are seeking refuge and solace in light of the novel coronavirus. This is a tough time, but we’re here for you—whether it’s a new pantry recipe or a useful tip for your kitchen, here are some ideas to make th…

Now more than ever, home is where many of us are seeking refuge and solace in light of the novel coronavirus. This is a tough time, but we’re here for you—whether it’s a new pantry recipe or a useful tip for your kitchen, here are some ideas to make things run a little more smoothly for you and your loved ones.


Unlike the Dursley residence, my childhood home boasts a cupboard above the stairs. Hidden behind a curtain of my father’s dress pants, hung ankle-up like sleeping bats, there’s a nearly-invisible door in the wall. If you manage to pry it open, you’ll find yourself in the world’s smallest antique shop.

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A Guide to Staying Calm, According to Two Friends

Now more than ever, home is where many of us are seeking refuge and solace in light of the novel coronavirus. This is a tough time, but we’re here for you—whether it’s a new pantry recipe or a useful tip for your kitchen, here are some ideas to make th…

Now more than ever, home is where many of us are seeking refuge and solace in light of the novel coronavirus. This is a tough time, but we’re here for you—whether it’s a new pantry recipe or a useful tip for your kitchen, here are some ideas to make things run a little more smoothly for you and your loved ones.


It’s 10 a.m. on a Monday and I’m drinking my anxieties away.

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A One-Minute Trick to Get Rainbow Stains Out of Your Pans

It’s sparkly. It’s gleaming. It’s perfect. You can’t stop admiring that stainless-steel cookware you made dinner with for the first time, and we don’t blame you. Then, suddenly, you notice—cue the Twilight Zone theme—a rainbow tint on the interior.
Fi…

It’s sparkly. It’s gleaming. It’s perfect. You can’t stop admiring that stainless-steel cookware you made dinner with for the first time, and we don’t blame you. Then, suddenly, you notice—cue the Twilight Zone theme—a rainbow tint on the interior.

First of all, the good news:

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The Iconic French Knives I’d Climb the Alps For

I’m in a lamplit tavern in Chambéry, France—it’s actually called the Café de Lyon, but my brain is in a time zone six hours behind, so let’s say it’s that tavern from Beauty and the Beast. The one where Gaston sings about decorating with antlers. Excep…

I’m in a lamplit tavern in Chambéry, France—it’s actually called the Café de Lyon, but my brain is in a time zone six hours behind, so let’s say it’s that tavern from Beauty and the Beast. The one where Gaston sings about decorating with antlers. Except we’re drinking very fancy red wine and I’m scraping marrow from a halved bone with a steak knife, spreading it deliriously across a piece of bread that yields in just-baked sublimity.

Our guides, Alex and Francoise, are teaching us how to do the French sign for ‘you’ve had one bottle of Bordeaux too many,' twisting a fisted hand in front of their noses, and laughing at our attempts.

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