The Underpants.
Two conversations recently, both drifting from floor plans and kitchen layouts into the state of things.
“We need Rupert Lowe. He’s the only one who can save this country,” she said.
“The trouble is, this isn’t a superhero movie,” I said.
And then, a few days later:
“I think we’re heading into a time where serious re-use, mending and doing it yourself will be the only viable option for most people,” he said.
“Like Cuba,” I said. “Keeping thirty-year-old kitchens and bathrooms on the road.”
“Exactly. And doing it yourself is empowering.”
I’ve been turning these two conversations over ever since. They sit at opposing ends of the same problem.
The superhero version is compelling. Someone swoops in, sees the mess clearly, knows what to do, and does it. The trouble is that the people who end up in the position to swoop are shaped by the system long before they get there. The system makes promises it can’t keep, even when it wants to. What we actually have is not a bad cast — it’s a bad script. One that needs less of a refurbishment and more of a demolition.
But that’s still superhero thinking. I’m with the DIY option.
Fix your own thing. Turn your back on the shiny new version of whatever you already have that works. Get some tools, build a team, sort it out at the scale you can actually reach.
Cost is the main driver of this for most people right now. Build costs are up sixty per cent since 2020. Kitchens that seven years ago went in a skip — perfectly good carcasses, solid worktops — because someone fancied a change, are now things people are repainting, re-dooring, keeping. The Cuba analogy holds. And there is something in it beyond the economics.
Opting out has its own logic. Cancel the streaming services, buy a DVD player and some old disks. Use cash. Spend a day without the phone. Use the local butcher. Stop going to Costa. None of this costs anything — most of it saves money — and none of it touches your income or your work. But a few million people doing any of it would be felt. More importantly, those people would have stepped, at least partially, outside something they couldn’t quite see.
What they’d step into is each other.
Not a side. Not a cause. Just people who are fixing things, making things, spending money that lands with a person rather than disappears into a quarterly report.
The system feeds on arguments over which superhero is better. It has no idea what to do with people who’ve simply gone outside.
Ever wondered why?
This Week’s Links:
Four sorts of interlinked articles from House and Garden. All could fall into the change it yourself category:
Butler sinks
Boot rooms
Dog washing
and good smells.
These little films about one man making a house are quite nice to watch:
Main Image credit: While the superhero struck a pose, everyone else quietly went outside and got on with real life. (ChatGPT)
Thoughts for the Weekend & this Week’s Links
Share with
The Underpants.
Two conversations recently, both drifting from floor plans and kitchen layouts into the state of things.
“We need Rupert Lowe. He’s the only one who can save this country,” she said.
“The trouble is, this isn’t a superhero movie,” I said.
And then, a few days later:
“I think we’re heading into a time where serious re-use, mending and doing it yourself will be the only viable option for most people,” he said.
“Like Cuba,” I said. “Keeping thirty-year-old kitchens and bathrooms on the road.”
“Exactly. And doing it yourself is empowering.”
I’ve been turning these two conversations over ever since. They sit at opposing ends of the same problem.
The superhero version is compelling. Someone swoops in, sees the mess clearly, knows what to do, and does it. The trouble is that the people who end up in the position to swoop are shaped by the system long before they get there. The system makes promises it can’t keep, even when it wants to. What we actually have is not a bad cast — it’s a bad script. One that needs less of a refurbishment and more of a demolition.
But that’s still superhero thinking. I’m with the DIY option.
Fix your own thing. Turn your back on the shiny new version of whatever you already have that works. Get some tools, build a team, sort it out at the scale you can actually reach.
Cost is the main driver of this for most people right now. Build costs are up sixty per cent since 2020. Kitchens that seven years ago went in a skip — perfectly good carcasses, solid worktops — because someone fancied a change, are now things people are repainting, re-dooring, keeping. The Cuba analogy holds. And there is something in it beyond the economics.
Opting out has its own logic. Cancel the streaming services, buy a DVD player and some old disks. Use cash. Spend a day without the phone. Use the local butcher. Stop going to Costa. None of this costs anything — most of it saves money — and none of it touches your income or your work. But a few million people doing any of it would be felt. More importantly, those people would have stepped, at least partially, outside something they couldn’t quite see.
What they’d step into is each other.
Not a side. Not a cause. Just people who are fixing things, making things, spending money that lands with a person rather than disappears into a quarterly report.
The system feeds on arguments over which superhero is better. It has no idea what to do with people who’ve simply gone outside.
Ever wondered why?
This Week’s Links:
Four sorts of interlinked articles from House and Garden. All could fall into the change it yourself category:
Butler sinks
Boot rooms
Dog washing
and good smells.
These little films about one man making a house are quite nice to watch:
Main Image credit: While the superhero struck a pose, everyone else quietly went outside and got on with real life. (ChatGPT)
Ready to talk?
When is a loft not a loft?
The Pros and Cons of a Kitchen Island
Increase your space and flexibility by going open-plan
Underfoot Innovation: the Yin and Yang of Underfloor Heating
Bi-fold Doors: the pros and cons
When your house has the wrong sort of space (and what to do about it)