Luxury in the Modern Age

I hate to come back from a hiatus just to start complaining but …

Lately we've been thinking about moving.  This is difficult because we like our current place, but there are Reasons, and over time those Reasons have tipped the scale from "probably not worth the pain in the arse of actually moving" to "probably worth it, if we can find a place we like as well, or which is much cheaper".

So that's led us into the dark and terrifying world of trying to find a place in the downtown Toronto market.  This is complicated by the list of things we really want (no carpeting; functional kitchen; dog friendly; sane walking distance to certain locations), and things we'd like to have but might be able to wiggle on (not-horrible view; quiet building; hands-off landlord; separate room for a home office; on a low floor but not the ground floor; not overlooking a construction site).

It's further complicated by Toronto's ridiculous condo market.  Over the last several years, more and more optimistically-termed "luxury condos" have been (and continue to be) built and come onto the market, but the definition of "luxury" can be shamefully low.  For some places it really is about the quality of fixtures and surfaces (excellent) or the building amenities (great if you're into them); for others, it's a term of art and owners and real estate agents look like fools for using it.

So, for those who bought some of these "luxury" condominium units as investments and are hoping to rake in thousands of dollars of rent per month from them,  I offer you some wholly unwelcome advice: get out of this sucker's game while you still can.  From the looks of things out there, a lot of you were sold a bill of goods, and now you're looking to pass that bill on to some tenant somewhere.  It makes a lot of sense, frankly, that so many of you have had places vacant for months and I'd be surprised if you ever manage to rent them at the prices you're asking.

As sort of a PSA to those who've bought investment properties in many of these new luxury buildings, I wanted to just put this out there.  Your property doesn't qualify for the term "luxury" if:

• The "master bedroom" isn't large enough to have a full- or queen-sized bed in it.  Being able to wedge it in a corner so that two sides of the bed are fully against the walls doesn't count.
• The master bedroom doesn't have a window.  Making one whole wall of that bedroom glass so that it has exposure to a room that does have a window doesn't really mean the bedroom has a window.



Ahhh, the lap of luxury!  Where's the
sink?  A bit far away, really.

• You can't cook a proper meal in the place.  This runs the gamut from tiny, pokey kitchens with no counter-space or ventilation to the extreme ridiculous such as: the kitchen is strung out along the back walls of two different rooms and the stove is not only smaller than normal but actually part of the living room?
• The "den" or "+1" has two (or fewer) walls.  Having a space in your living room large enough for a desk in does not mean that you have a "+1", a second "substandard" bedroom, or a den.
• You don't allow pets.  It's hard for me to imagine a "luxury lifestyle" in which my tiny dog is not welcome.  It's harder yet to imagine paying you $2,000+ per month for that dubious privilege.
• There is no storage other than a single, small sliding-door closet.  Where are people's clothes, shoes, coats, towels, cleaning supplies, extra toilet paper, and assorted other daily-living crap supposed to go?



Itsy bitsy, teeny weeny.

• The entire place is less than 500 square feet, even when you include exterior space in the measurements.  Part of me believes that small spaces can be quite luxurious, if done right, but that's not what's happening here.
• You, as landlord, leave your unwanted things in the place but say you're "generously allowing the tenant use of" the stuff.  Seriously.  "Generously".
• You're not renting the whole place.  If you're just trying to rent a single bedroom while you live there too, get thee to Craigslist — you're looking for a roommate, not a tenant.
• Residents have to share the building with transient strangers because it's a hybrid condo-hotel or some other nonsense.  People who are just there for a week or a few days are noisy and irksome, and no one wants to have to live near them, and especially not at "luxury" rent rates.
• There is no parking or storage locker.  People living downtown at exorbitant rates simply expect to have a single parking space and a storage locker.  If you, the landlord, are using these, you need to seriously discount the asking price; if you bought a "luxury condominium" without these as an investment property, perhaps rethink your ability to invest.
• Normal waits for an elevator in your building are longer than 8-10 minutes.  Do you enjoy standing around on the 35th floor wondering if the elevator will ever show up?
• The only view from the place is of an elevated expressway less than 3 meters from the window.  That's not just ugly and noisy, it's unhealthy.
• The "condo" is actually a poorly converted storefront or former office.  Bonus points if the shower is just a drizzly spigot in the ceiling of the bathroom, right up against the toilet (with no separation), and there's just a sad serial-killer style drain in the floor.
• I don't have to look very hard to find news of police raids and double murders in your development.  You know who you are.

Consider this my weary sigh.

It's hard not to get fed up with a market that, in every single ad, breathlessly announces "ELFs included!"  And no, that's not mischievous wee folk who help you with your chores if you're good to them (I'd definitely pay extra for that).  It means that in the kitchen and bathroom, when you flip a switch, the lights come on.  That is considered an "extra" in many of these "luxury condos".  One worth five asterisks on either side to highlight the awesome luxury of electrical light fixtures being included at no extra charge to you.  Though you probably do need to pay the hydro bill, so that's a mixed blessing.

Ah, Toronto … you make me so tired sometimes.