Snarkitecture – A pied-Ã -terre as permanent residence, Box/Box is an apartment for Snarkitecture partner Daniel Arsham. A 90 square foot private hideaway contained within a larger 2,500 square foot collaborative workspace, the project was conceived as an accelerated design/build experiment and was completed within a two-month period at a cost of less than $100 per square foot.
How fucking pimp is an apartment above your office that’s 90 square feet and lined with ping pong balls?? This thing cost less than a G to build? I’ll take 3!! You kidding me? Ladder access to a room with a queen sized bed? You’re hired, Mr. Architect – sign me up. It’s not a matter of wanting this – I NEED this. If this was in my office, I’d be up there power napping like a boss all day long. I’d even be able potato sack a sales girl or two in and invite them up. Absolutely no one would be able to refuse this setup. I could probably get Bar Refaeliup there.
I don’t care that it’s only 90 square feet – it would be the perfect place to crash whenever I’m out in the city. You know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get back to the burbs from the city if you’re all the way on the west side or downtown? Train gets in at 1AM, old folks yelling at you because their bedtime is 10PM, sure as SHIT can’t roll back with anyone – what a waste. One phone call: “Welp, stayin in the city tonight” and I’m set. Bring the biddies back, pop champagne, yatta yatta yatta. Good shit. Next day, kick them the hell out, climb back down the ladder and end up right back at work.
Add a flatscreen, laptop/ internet and I’m golden. Heaven.
How Pimp is this Small Assed Ping Pong Ball Apartment?
January 22, 2011
Useless Update
No Comments
Portfolioso
I don’t care that it’s only 90 square feet – it would be the perfect place to crash whenever I’m out in the city. You know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get back to the burbs from the city if you’re all the way on the west side or downtown? Train gets in at 1AM, old folks yelling at you because their bedtime is 10PM, sure as SHIT can’t roll back with anyone – what a waste. One phone call: “Welp, stayin in the city tonight” and I’m set. Bring the biddies back, pop champagne, yatta yatta yatta. Good shit. Next day, kick them the hell out, climb back down the ladder and end up right back at work.
Add a flatscreen, laptop/ internet and I’m golden. Heaven.