Exploring the World of Tiny Homes: A Glimpse into the Quirky Life of a Dumpster Dweller
In a bustling corner of south London, nestled close to a bustling Underground station and an intricate web of bus routes, an extraordinary sight awaits: a tiny house inside a dumpster.
This 27-square-foot plywood haven boasts a central floor space, wall shelves doubling as storage or seating, a compact kitchen equipped with a sink, hot plate, and pint-sized fridge, and a snug mezzanine complete with a mattress beneath its vaulted roof. Running water is nowhere to be found, and the bathroom consists of a portable toilet stationed outdoors.
Meet the “skip house,” a brainchild and abode of Harrison Marshall, a 29-year-old British architect and artist renowned for his community-building designs both in Britain and overseas. Since taking up residence in this rent-free dumpster (affectionately known as a “skip” in Britain) back in January, this peculiar dwelling has become a social media sensation, amassing tens of millions of views and a barrage of inquiries in a city where studio apartments rent for a steep minimum of $2,000 per month.
“People are having to move into smaller and smaller places, microapartments, tiny houses, just to try and make ends meet,” remarks Mr. Marshall. He goes on to emphasize that while minimal living can hold certain advantages, it should ideally be a matter of choice rather than a forced necessity.
The phenomenon of microapartments and tiny homes like Marshall’s has been making waves on social media, piquing the curiosity of countless viewers. These compact living spaces have intrigued audiences, whether they’re reacting to skyrocketing housing costs or embracing a boundary-pushing lifestyle, as spotlighted on platforms like the Never Too Small YouTube channel. However, despite the attention they garner on social media, there isn’t necessarily a rush to move into such spaces, partly because living in them can be quite the challenge.
Marshall reveals that a whopping 80 percent of those who expressed interest in residing in a house similar to his in the Bermondsey area turned out to be non-committal, noting that “most of it is all just buzz and chitchat.”
According to him, tiny homes are often romanticized, largely due to the overexposure of a luxurious lifestyle. “People are almost numb to it from social media,” he observes. Instead, he believes people are more captivated by content centered around the “nomadic lifestyle” or “living off the grid,” often overlooking the practicalities like gym showers and portable outdoor toilets.
The post-pandemic surge back into major cities has driven rent prices to new heights, exacerbating the demand for affordable housing, including spaces scarcely larger than a parking spot. However, while social media audiences may find this lifestyle “relatable and entertaining,” it’s not necessarily one they are rushing to adopt.
Microapartment enthusiasts on social media are akin to tourists visiting Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary in San Francisco Bay and experiencing the confinement of a cell with the door closed, according to Karen North, a professor of digital social media at the University of Southern California. People desire to explore the “anomalously small end” of the housing spectrum, she explains, seeking a personal connection through social media.
Pablo J. Boczkowski, a professor of communications studies at Northwestern University, asserts that despite the perception that new technologies wield significant influence, millions of clicks don’t necessarily translate into people making a wholesale lifestyle change. “From the data that we have so far, there is no basis to say that social media have the ability to change behavior in that way,” he affirms.
While these compact living spaces might not be the norm, those who do choose them often do so out of necessity. For individuals aiming to live and work in major cities, the post-pandemic housing situation is grim. In Manhattan, for instance, the average rental price in June was a staggering $5,470. London paints a similar picture, with an average asking rent of approximately $3,165 per month during the first quarter of the year.
The situation is no different in Asia. In Tokyo, the average monthly rent reached a record high for the third consecutive month in March, hovering around $4,900.
This housing crunch led Ryan Crouse, a 21-year-old who relocated from New York to Tokyo in May 2022, to lease a 172-square-foot microapartment for just $485 a month. His Tokyo studio gained immense popularity on social media, amassing 20 to 30 million views across various platforms. However, Mr. Crouse eventually moved into a larger space this May.
The apartment’s central location came with a compact bathroom where he could literally touch both walls. The mezzanine sleeping area beneath the roof became swelteringly hot during the summer, and the diminutive sofa barely accommodated him.
According to Mr. Crouse, when it comes to microstudios, “a lot of people just like the idea of it, rather than actually doing it.” They relish “a glimpse into other people’s lives.”
The pandemic appears to have heightened this curiosity. During lockdown, “everyone was on social media, sharing their spaces,” and apartment tour videos gained immense popularity, says Mr. Crouse. “That really put a light on tiny spaces like this.”
For Alaina Randazzo, a media planner in New York, her year-long experience in an 80-square-foot, $650-a-month microapartment in Midtown Manhattan became a social media sensation. The apartment included a sink but no toilet or shower, which were located down the hall and shared.
Ms. Randazzo opted for this downsizing move after living in a luxury high-rise rental that she felt was draining her finances. In her microstudio, she had to eat off paper plates, and there was a skylight but no window to dissipate cooking odors. She had to be selective about her clothing purchases to avoid overfilling the space.
Nonetheless, videos of her microapartment on TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram garnered tens of millions of views. YouTube influencers, including one with a cooking series, even did on-location shoots in her microstudio, while rappers reached out to her for similar opportunities.
Ms. Randazzo believes there’s a certain “cool factor” surrounding microstudios today because they sell the idea that one can thrive in New York without judgment for living in a tiny space. Moreover, the appeal lies in the authenticity of those who embrace this lifestyle while striving to build a future by saving money.
However, Ms. Randazzo acknowledges that this lifestyle wasn’t sustainable for her beyond a year. She now shares a spacious townhouse in New York, and while she appreciates the community her microapartment experience brought her, she doesn’t miss bumping her head on the ceiling.