Here's another story about someone who chooses to live in a super-tiny house. I posted on this trend once before.
I admire this decision. I really do. I would miss entertaining though. Given the chance to reconfigure our fixer-upper, we made decisions specifically keeping in mind flow and traffic patterns for a large number of guests. These people throw zero parties. The woman in the earlier post says she regrets not having space to have friends over.
Oh, and I would miss my husband, too. I don't think two of us could live in a space under 90 sq. feet. Under 1100 square feet is challenging. The good thing is that we're not both home at the same time much. That sounds more cynical than it really is. But still, we really need all the space. we have. For our collections. And the books. And the these things we've been dragging around with us for 27 years. The tiny-house dwellers have nothing they don't use everyday. They have no room for their past. No room for mementos. No room for anything other than the immediate.
Perhaps that's how it should be. Perhaps that forces them to live in a constant present.
And where are you expected to situate those houses? That guy found a lot somewhere out in the wilderness. That's not for everybody, certainly not for me. I suppose I'd have to find a tiny vacant lot somewhere in the city - if I wanted a tiny house. There aren't many vacant lots available in Los Angeles and if you do find one, it's likely vacant for a reason.
These would make good vacation cottages though. I could see that. I'm trying to imagine what a tiny, tiny Palm Springs house would look like.
Mmm. No. Can't do it. 300 square feet? Maybe.
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