London Grows Tired Of Flats

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 264, 6 November 1937, Page 5 (Supplement)

London Grows Tired Of Flats

By NELLE M. SCANLAN.

LON IX)V. rF. C !•' Is keen competition going on I between the old and new style of fl.it i. The other day 1 was through two old liousos which are now being eonverted by a woman, who bus already win do a name for herself with this work.

juiido a njune for herself with this work. iShfl hud Installed cent nil heating, and the cu id room, ho essential. but always missing from new flats. I feel »ur« that. millions of pounds will W hist over si>me of these new speculative ventures, IHM-nu.se the spcculiit ive builders nre too greedy; they ask too much and give too little. And I am convinced that flat dwelling | q h, contributory factor towards many divorces. Where people are living on top of each other, nerves get frayed, an argument, starts, and there is no escape. At one time people could work, off a bud humour In the garden, or go upstairs or downstairs. But not now. Thev have no place to go, and their mood ferments in these tinv, heated boxes they call home. Life is too restricted in them, but without restriction they are intolerable, *n it cuts both ways. In some blocks you can't have n piano or other musical instrument, because it disturbs the neighbours. I know people who have been driven from place to place because they could not use a piano, and there whs no opportunity of practising their music. Singers, too. are most unpopular. Wireless, however, which supplies much of our modern approved noise, seems immune from thewe restrictions, and oil n summer night, with the windows open, you will hear several different programmes at once, clashing into a hideous din. Some flats won't allow dogs, and quite rightly, I think, for it is inhuman to keep dogs in a flat without any place for a run. In others, where" they are permitted, the yapping of some pestilential I'eke nearly drives the neighbours mad. And no it goes oil. There's Pleasure In House Hunting The servant problem lias driven many to seek refuge in. Ants, but now they are beginning to realise at what cost they have surrendered a real home, with all it means to a family. The falling birth rate is another result. Many flats won't take families with young children, because they annoy their neighbours. I am always keen on house hunting, even when 1 have no personal interest in the search. Recently I have been through several blocks of luxury flats (they have borrowed that term from the cinemas) where * sitting room, dining room, three bedrooms, maid's room, bathroom and kitchen cost £14 a week. There are thousands of people paying that rent in London, and getting little real home comfort even at that price. Oh yea, there is a uniformed commissionaire at the door to hop up and open the ear, take your parcels and hold an umbrella over you up the *teps if it is raining. And you can get a meal in the restaurant, and you need keep only one maid. But life in these 1« just one remove from hotel life, and two removes from sitting on a railway •tat ion with your luggage. A three years' lease, and you move on to find something better. I have seen quite a number of the new small flats, with one sitting room, about the size of a packing-case, a dining room, or perhaps a folding dining table in the small entrance hall, a wee bedroom and bathroom, all very modern fliere is a kitchenette, with refrigerator (no home is complete without one now though there is not more than one montli in any English year when you reallv need it) —and all for about f.'J or £3 10/ a week. Add to that the roar of traffit beneath your window, the tramp of feel

over your head, the sound of voices and wireless through the walls. an<l the total absence of that garden where you can out and eat worms when driven to cles|H'i H I ion. A reaction lias, however. set in against Hat*. One vast block near nie, I see. has let only two Ants out of 4H. Another is just nearing com pletion. Speculative builders and companies, I believe, are beginning t«> senoe a change in the wind. I read with delight only yesterday that l"> acres of an old estate has come into tile market in St. John'* VVood, just near Lord's Cricket Kroiind (for you niio know your London). Already two great blocks of flat* have been erected on this estate, the houses being pulled down as the leases fell in. But, there are to be no more flats on this property. The 1.1 acre" of now old-fashioned house** in to be cleared and H4 modern "gentlemen's residences 1 ' with gardens are to take t'jeir place. Shows Home Life Now Appreciated I will have whooped with joy when I read it and I will watch their progress with extreme interest, though I shall not be the owner or tenent of any of them. It shows a return to sanity and an appreciation of what a home really means in family life. These houses will not have basement kitchens; they will have an attractive living and working quarters for the domestic staff and should have little difficulty in solving their own domestic problem. They will have drawing room, dining room, kitchen and perhajis a small sitting room on the ground floor, bedrooms on the tirst floor aiid comfortable rooms for the staff on the second floor, centrally heated, electrically run. all modern conveniences and labour-saving devices — and a garden. During the past ye«r a few wise people have experimented in this tv(»e of modern home and the demand for them has been enormous. Flat* have proved an expensive economy to many. They were constantly driven to week- | end in the country or elsewhere to get ' »wav from their little box home, to get a breath of fresh air. to give the children ' a chance to play. Now they will hftve 1 their own garden and lawn and much - of thi« will be saved. > Flats are a necessity in a city like this and other big congested areas, but • the mushroom jrrowth of suburban t villas, often rather terrible looking and 1 jerry-built, is draining the population ' from the centres of work. They would 1 rather travel an hour by motor coach . or underground morning and night in 3 order to have some freedom of move- ' ment and simple recreation after * working hours. And those whose work J can Ixi done anywhere, and that vast t army of retired business people, are 1 scouring the countryside looking for ■> country cottages and old Iwrns to con--1 vert (these have solidly built old brick s walls to start with). Many a derelict 1 Mas teen transformed into a charming r> home. All the talent of the world <fr>w* into London. Anyone with talent or ambition comes to London in search of fame and fortune —artists, writers, actors, singers, scientists, men and women with special ability in any way of life. B«t as soon as they make enough money tliey can't get out of it fast enough; they want a cottage in the country. You may have noticed that the Knglish landed classes and aristocracy always speak of their "country home" and "town house." That sums the matter . up. Their home is in the country, their true home; their house is in town for convenience when they come up for the season. c

And speaking or this passion for country cottages, I eee that Beverley Nichols ie celling his now famous cottage "Allways." It miwt be a wrench l?o part with this pleasant goose that laid such a golden egg. He adrnite that he has made over out of it, for it was the theme ml three of his beet-selling books. !!• states that he hae been pestered with hikers and trippers and other curious people, who have invaded his privacy, broken through his hedges, peered over his gates and he even found a young girl swimming in his precious bathing pool one day. He is selling the whole thing, lock, stock and barrel, that is, the furniture as well as the cottage, except for some treasures that Melba gave

One well-known writer interviewed Beverley Nichols when he announced his intention of parting with the cottage, and spoke of it as "jilting his old love" which had repaid his love «o generously in fame and cash. Other writers take a delight in "guying" Beverley Nichols, calling him the "Periwinkle Lad" and ridiculing hi* profitable' passion for flowers. But perhaps there is more than a little envy behind all this. However, this writer concluded his interview with a comment on the fact that Mr. Nichols had brought some of hie favourite petunia seeds to his new home in Hampstead. "Tliey will be like the children of his old love, and Nichols fans can, if they please, imagine the exiled author gazing into the eyes of his petunias and murmuring, 'How like [their mother.'"