Page 3 - C.A.L.L. #37 - Winter 2013/2014

12 Roommates, 3 Couples, 1 Loft

By Nate Hopper – nymag.com

Once autumn fades, and the sun slumps, its full glide becoming visible through
the southern-facing windows of “the loft,” the twelve residents on the third
floor of a defunct garment plant will start to arm-wrestle. “We generally save
up our grievances till the winter,” jokes Chris, a chef, on a recent crisp evening.
“I’ve been mostly doing one-arm curls.”
His playful machismo nods to the loft’s roots.
Back in 2003, six twentysomething guys
rented out 4,800 dust-caked square feet in
Bushwick and began to build. Among the

concrete pillars and rust-crusted pipes, small
scrap-wood and drywall rooms started
shouldering up next to one another, leaving
the most possible space for a vast common
area, a wood shop, and a band practice room.
“Shit was just, like, everywhere,” says Shah,
one of the founders, now 38, “which was
initially part of the appeal.” The expanse
became a near-anarchistic shantytown
dreamscape dubbed “Mancamp.” Soon, half-
drunk, sleepy-eyed trips to the concrete nook that “miraculously had a toilet”
doubled as encounters with a loftmate wielding a katana. They lived big on the
cheap - an appealing strategy for many young adults nowadays. It beats a

Lilliputian childhood bedroom.
The loft’s current crew: age 26 to 39. There are four chefs. A filmmaker. An
actor and stoner-rock musician (Shah, the only pioneer left). And several other
artists/musicians with day jobs. There’s Megan and Ethan, who tore through the
wall separating their rooms after they began dating. Plus another couple, Chris
and Jill. And the oldest resident, Jim, fell for Lili, 32, during one loft
Thanksgiving; they now share a room, and she’s pregnant with their child - whose
imminent arrival will bring about their departure.
The rent is cheap ($600 per person and $800 per room-sharing couple); the

temperature, a challenge (two hulking, costly gas heaters try to fend off the
winter drafts, but body warmth, everyone agrees, works better); the vibe, no
longer quite so Mancamp. There’s now a noise curfew, designated (if oft-
ignored) cleaning days, and an indoor garden. It’s practically adult. They share
know-how, job opportunities, and a washer-dryer.
But at the end of the day, there are still twelve people living in one apartment,
and “sometimes you’re like, I envisioned soaking in the tub and having a quiet
night, but there’s noise rock in the common space,” says Megan. “So you put in
your earplugs, and you share.”

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