Why are we in this program? It’s a question we all likely asked ourselves while working on our applications, but I also think it’s an important one to keep asking. Is it for money? For all of us, this likely plays some kind of factor – let’s be honest – as real estate does provide a path to a very comfortable life if one executes on investment strategies and times market cycles correctly. However, I believe we must each ask what beyond that is our motivating factor – which leads me to writing this op-ed.
We all are fortunate enough to live in a place like NYC where iconic architecture is all around us, where decades and even centuries converge upon one another on countless blocks around the city. Gleaming new facades with hoist elevators still attached to the structure, coexist next to buildings whose walls have witnessed multitudes of moments now documented in history books. It’s these sorts of dichotomies that I find to be some of the most moving about living here. But as moving as this can be, it can also be crushing, to see buildings that are so beautiful and ornate, so well designed, and elegant – often abutting buildings whose design is so void of vision, they make you wonder if the entire development team underwent ice pick lobotomies as a team building exercise, before beginning the project.
Development is a risk-heavy undertaking, and one that is fraught with obstacles. So why, in the name of all that is holy, would you go through all of that – to build something that looks like a metal filing cabinet with windows? Why create something that will be so immediately mediocre, that the neighborhood and the people passing by it will take no notice of it and have no curiosity about what goes on inside of it? If we are trying to build the future, why are we not trying to build something that will grow in legacy and significance as it continues to exist in the world and in our communities? Of course, we are all wanting to maximize profit, but is a 25% return better than a 20% return, if the end result is a building that will add little to the beauty of the city itself? Some will say the 25% is always better than the 20% – and there are plenty of people in that camp. I am just saying – or pleading, rather, with you my fellow industry peers – that perhaps there shouldn’t be.
In my day job as a residential agent in New York City, I see plenty of buildings with varying finishes. The unfortunate thing about this, is how many I see that look as if they were copy and pasted from another project, with the same mediocre, dull finishes, and lackluster quality. While this may be fine for some, I know the products that resonate with me the most and leave me feeling inspired and in a state of awe after showings, are all often taking a bold choice of some kind in their design; often, in the hopes they create an environment that leaves the consumer unable to forget it. I leave buildings like Walker Tower, The Fitzroy, or 211 Elizabeth just to name a few – and I am inspired and even comforted by the commitment of their vision. I am truly grateful that these teams took the time to consider so many different facets of how everything from the lobby entrance to the scale of rooms and ceiling heights, and even the door handles and light switches, would make the end user feel. Is a door solid core? Does it have a nice thickness and feeling of sturdiness when you open and close, for example? When you touch a bathroom fixture, is it made of a beautifully finished, weighty metal, or does it feel like something out of an RV bathroom? Does a wood floor feel substantial or is it not even wood – but instead a depressing vinyl? Trust me, people notice these things. People are not impervious to quality, particularly in a world where we have more visual reference points at our fingertips than ever, thanks to the internet and the countless social media platforms that are an ever-present part of our reality. People may not even be able to fully point to what is missing from a property, but when a product is truly well done, I assure you people of all demographics and socioeconomic backgrounds can tell.
When I was 23, I worked for a period as a server at a restaurant in Scottsdale, Arizona, and one day at lunch, I had a couple from Alabama come in. They were not of great financial means but told me they had saved up for this vacation and were so excited to be there. They ordered an egg roll appetizer, and for the next hour all they could talk about was how they had never had an egg roll like that in their lives. Why? Because it was a ‘southwestern’ egg roll. Apparently, jalapenos and chipotle mayo have not made their way to Alabama (or they hadn’t in 2017), so the introduction of these flavors, when they were expecting a pretty standard egg roll, was revelatory for them. While that seems like an odd story to recount in an article about development, it was a lesson to me that often times, people don’t even know what they want until you present them with something new and exciting, something that transcends the mediocre expectations we are often conditioned to accept as sufficient in our daily lives. That egg roll, albeit delicious, was not about the eggroll. For that couple from Alabama, it was the fulfillment of the same idea I’m pushing for us all to think about in our future development endeavors – that when people care a little more and put a little more effort into doing something unique and special, it resonates.
Is it harder to do this? Yes.
Is it more costly in some ways, and does it require more thought as to how to do these things while still making a project pencil out? Yes.
Is getting a 20% return instead of a 25% return going to limit some of the people who will invest with you? Probably.
Despite all of this though, I argue the tradeoff is worth it. It’s worth it, so that in your twilight years, you can drive your loved ones by something you built – still magnificent and significant. Gleaming in the Skyline. Something that will elicit the admiration of the next generation the way the works of Emery Roth, Rosario Candela, J.E.R Carpenter, Cass Gilbert, Ralph Thomas Walker, Raymond Hood, and countless others still conjure in us today throughout New York City – instead of leaving them all wondering quietly to themselves what year you had your lobotomy procedure done in.
Leave a Reply