Before I moved to The States, I was renting my own apartment in a Danish city called Randers. I lived there for about 2 years at a monthly rate of $380 (2500 kr). I know: that’s approximately what you’d pay for parking in downtown LA. It was a tiny yet cozy space around 322 ft² (30 m²). Back then I had a hard time fitting all my things into just a kitchen, a bathroom and one main room (which doubled as ¼ bedroom, ¼ living room, ¼ dining room and ¼ dance studio).
Or at least I thought I had a hard time because all that seems pretty luxurious now that I’ve experienced life in LA.
To my and Devin’s luck, we did (and still do) pretty well as two people (both with an abnormal amount of clothing and knick knacks) squished into a smaller amount of square feet (during a pandemic, no less). It definitely helped that we had a very cute backyard and gym (that was only closed 7 out of the 8 months we were there). But was the $1500 (10.000 kr) in rent really worth it? Now you might be wondering, “Were they living in Beverly Hills with rent like that?” Nope, even better –we were located in the gorgeous area between Koreatown and Downtown Los Angeles; our view included humongous hills of trash (before the homeless set those on fire to stay warm, ofc) and included the lovely soundtrack of police choppers overhead.
I haven’t given a single thought to how we could be living in a spacious, two-bedroom modern townhouse in Denmark for that price. No, never, not one thought given…
Now time to “turn that frown upside down,” as Devin might say. I DID love our apartment in DT LA because it was ours. It was the first place we got to choose together and make homy and hyggelig (from the Danish word hygge, which I’ll need a whole post to explain).
For those curious about how we navigated a small space in a big city, I’m happy to share how we personalized and optimized. Also, I’m here to brag about my handywoman work (when it comes to assembling IKEA, I definitely wear the pants. Or shorts, it’s pretty hot here in Cali).
Don’t be afraid of mixing his and mine
While living with my significant other, I quickly discovered there’s not really a “his” and “mine”–and I love it. This means I get a closet double the size and Devin’s face is always moisturized: isn’t that great?!
Naturally, we’re not separating the closet, the shelves, the cupboards, etc. Not only do we optimize space, but also we learn to compromise. By combining my graduation hat (a very traditional thing in Denmark) with Dev’s Florida seashells, we learn to accept (and appreciate!) each other’s differences.
Figure out how to use the walls
Don’t underestimate YouTube! I’ve watched so many handyman videos during these 8 months in that studio. The main thing Devin and I learned: when hanging anything on the walls in an apartment complex, be sure you know what kind of walls you’re dealing with. We put up a few pictures and a little kitchen rack for spices and paper towels. All went smoothly and we felt unstoppable. The bliss was short-lived, though, when we went to hang some wooden shelves Devin made (with help from his big bro). The drillbit went directly through the wall and we were left with a hole the size of a pencil.
With anchors (suddenly) way too small, the only option I saw was covering it with a poster (preferably Justin Bieber or Zac Efron ofc), but compromise… This wasn’t in my lovely husband’s plans, so we came up with an alternative.
Did you know that there’s an invention called “flip toggles” that can hold up to 106 pounds (48 kg) in drywall/hollow wall? I do now! Thank you Ultimate Handyman on YouTube!
Since our discovery of flip toggles, we hung 3 wooden crates and 3 of Devin’s shelves. Immediately the room felt bigger, the furniture more evenly-spaced. You could barely tell that the last shelf was tilted enough to be a ski slope for the cockroaches who occasionally came to visit. So yeah, open up YouTube and put on that Bob the Builder safety helmet!
Reuse jars and cans
If you, like we did, have a tiny kitchen (*I’m pretty sure ours was built for clueless cooks, the kind who have never seen a measuring cup), then I have a few useful tips. I’m not reinventing the wheel, or as we say in Danish “inventing the deep plate,” so if you’re already doing this, super! If not, stay right here.
I’m a sucker for reusing jars and cans (especially when I know the recycling here isn’t always guaranteed in apartment complexes) and I love to put them to use after finishing whatever deliciousness was in them. On top of our cabinets we placed a bunch of cute glass jars filled with a variety of seeds and nuts, saving us the hassle and waste of plastic bags (not to mention essential cabinet space).
Old cans are perfect for repotting plants. The Don Francisco’s Coffee Dev drinks has a perfect-sized tub for basil and other herbs (basil is definitely the easiest one; cilantro, however, won’t stay alive for more than 2 weeks).
Make the best of it
So, sure, you might be living in a spot like our old place, one that earned just 1 out of 5 stars on Yelp. But this doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t make it feel cozy and personalized. A home is were the heart is, so we continued to take the negative in stride (cops walking in and out of the complex, police helicopters whirring at night, the all-too-often dumpster fires).
All until we found health threatening fungus-mushrooms growing in our shower, we ain’t bout dat… but that’s a whole other convo.
Maybe your default now is to see the negative: about your apartment, your neighborhood, your roomie. But my advice to you would be: create a place where you can go “offline” and be YOU. Maybe it’s Christmas lights in colors to hang over your “hygge-corner.” Or maybe it’s a stick of Palo Santo lit beside your yoga mat, filling your spot with zen.
Kys og kram,
Victoria Liv