Below are some of the photos from that shoot (if you’re curious). Recently, a Norwegian magazine commissioned my friend, photographer Adam Dressler, to take a few photographs of my apartment for their organ. Oh, and at $500 a month, it’s considerably less expensive than the loft. Plus, my new apartment is brighter during the day, it’s quieter when I want to write, it’s located in a nicer neighborhood with 19th-Century brick homes and tree-lined streets and a beautiful park, and it’s closer to my favorite coffee shop and restaurants. The elegance of minimalism transferred seamlessly to my new dwelling.

Even the word “loft” sounds sexy, doesn’t it? Could I be content with this change? I wasn’t sure.įast-forward a year and, truth be told, I enjoy my new, smaller apartment more than my old loft-a feat I thought impossible a year ago.

Although the new place was clean, and it had wood floors and brick walls, it didn’t have the same “sexy” allure the loft had. So I moved into a small, one-bedroom apartment, not too far from the picturesque old loft.Īt first, I wondered whether I could be as happy with my new apartment. When I left my corporate job, however, I decided to downsize I decided to reduce my expenses so I could afford to live my dream. It was not unlike something you’d see in a magazine (actually, it was featured in a couple magazines). In that essay you can see a picture of my beautiful loft apartment in downtown Dayton, Ohio, a capacious living space with hardwood floors and high ceilings, wide open and airy from brick wall to brick wall. When Ryan and I first started this website, I counted my things as a parody, showcasing the fact that I didn’t have the desire to be as extreme as some minimalists. After all, I didn’t want to be a monk, I didn’t want to live out of a bag and travel the world, and I certainly didn’t want to get rid of all my stuff and sulk in an empty apartment. Even then, I knew minimalism wasn’t ideal for everyone. When I first approached minimalism, lingering trepidatiously at its pristine white perimeter, I too wanted to see the material changes in people’s lives I wanted to peek into their worlds to see whether minimalism was possible and to see if it was something I desired. People are often intrigued by my living space, or rather by the idea of my living space, wondering what it looks like, how a minimalist really lives, often posing all sorts of voyeuristic questions: How many things do you own? What does your livingroom look like? Do you sleep on the floor?īut that’s okay-I understand the allure. Anyhow, walk this way, watch your step, I’ll show you around. I’m glad you could spend a few minutes chez Millburn. Islands of curved Art Nouveau-style sofas and armchairs cluster beneath Murano chandeliers for meetings and coworking, while a floor-to-ceiling Delft-inspired fireplace offers a cosy spot for the evenings.Step inside my apartment for a moment. This kicks off in the lobby, where blue-green tones and referential Bauhaus artworks set the tone.

AIME Studios (Ennismore’s in-house design wing) crafted the hotel’s interiors, weaving together a compelling mix of Art Nouveau and Brutalism – which the designers have nicknamed ‘Rough Nouveau’.Īccording to AIME, the hotel celebrates ‘West Berlin’s rich architectural history’ and ‘classic 1920s opulence intertwined with Brutalism’ through a heady mix of textures, patterns, fabrics and design styles. The Hoxton Charlottenburg is the latest addition to the hotel chain’s portfolio, with spots already open in Los Angeles, Rome and London, and is a stone’s throw from Berlin’s renowned shopping avenue Ku’damm. The Hoxton has arrived in Berlin, throwing open the doors to its Charlottenburg hotel, whose interiors pay homage to the architectural fabric of the storied neighbourhood.

Minimalist apartment lobby