Our apartment is not tiny. Not like the houses showcased at the Tiny House Blog, which mostly clock in at under 200 sq ft. Those tiny houses have something our city flat lacks, however: intentionality. They were largely built (or re-built) for living in, and maximise the usable space through convertible or storage furniture, lofts for storage or sleeping, and storage built into any odd bit of unused space.
Since this is a rented space, I can’t go building shelves in odd corners. (This is also preventing me, much to my chagrin, from building a loft reading nook. I’m like a cat; I like to tuck myself away in odd tall spots to look down at people. A space looks completely different from the top than from the bottom. So far, the property being a rental has also stopped me looking for studs to put eye hooks in for my hammock. Yes, I brought a hammock with me to Scotland.)
I’ve also tried to follow the minimalist ethos behind the tiny house movement by not owning more than I actually need. Interesting hobbies like camping (generally in questionable weather) and historical re-enactment do call for a certain minimum volume of equipment, though, as does the caching of potentially useful fabric. So I have extra things that I don’t necessarily need. But I also have the means to immediately patch a worn garment (I’m pretty hard on elbows) or whip up an eco-friendly gift immediately and at no cost. I’m pretty proud of that, actually. I’d rather spend half an hour darning good wool socks than an hour working at a desk and a trip to go buy new ones.
To accommodate these needs in an apartment with no closets, I’ve implemented a few non-standard storage measures.
The towels were briefly folded on the window sill, until I realised they were getting damp from the cold, damp air. Now we just have a big crock o’ towels tucked in a corner by the sink.
What hasn’t it got in its pocketses?
Apparently, cakes and cookies are generally stored in tins around here. My grandmother still does this actually, especially with great big tins of Christmas cookies. This tin is currently full of delicious nut bread. I highly recommend it topped with mango chutney and brie. Or anything, really.
Some women collect shoes. I collect rugged bags. Preferably, since I moved here, ones that repel water. Sometimes I even share with my husband. Since a certain incident involving interior of our apartment being as moist as the exterior, my preciouses now hang above the radiator behind the bedroom door, where they will stay dry. In a rented apartment, a tension rod is a girl’s best friend.
Nothing particular is stored on my kitchen rack yet, but it could be. Provided it was decorative enough, like this teensy jug of fancy Scottish liqueur. Or anything on the counter that I need to get temporarily out the way. Mostly I just wanted to show it off, because it’s pretty.
This post was supposed to be all pictures. This is what happens when I start writing. And now, back to work!