My in-laws. The traction makes it easier when transferring my mother-in-law from wheelchair to toilet or tub. They change the carpet about twice a year - they buy two of those area carpets they sell for dorm rooms that you see around this time of year, and cut it down to fit. After six months, it’s just barely starting to get that musty stank.
But… that’s a pretty specialized set of circumstances. And most people with carpeted bathrooms DON’T change it out every six months or make sure to get the lowest-nap thing they can find. And 90% of the carpeted bathrooms I’ve been in have that… delightful musty stank that just won’t go away.
Well, of course they’re hideous to look at. But there was a utilitarian motivation behind them that wasn’t car-based, and in fact the opposite: a whole lot of people from other parts of the country (especially single Mid-westerners striking out on their own) suddenly were moving to the near-center of cities that weren’t building vertically, and they didn’t necessarily have cars. The emerging suburbs were not an option for singles, and even less practical for people without cars. (Dingbats always have a lower than 1:1 ratio of car spaces to units, despite the seemingly car-oriented design. The placement of the parking under the habitation was simply a means of providing some parking while squeezing as many units into the limited area.)
The ornamentation and ridiculous names, however, serve no practical purpose whatsoever. (Unless you want to be able to tell your cab driver: “Take me to the Lovely Living Arms, fast!”, rather than give the address.)
Yes, in fact, most of the deaths in the Northridge quake happened in a dingbat-style apartment building.
These were quite common where I grew up. Yes, the milkman put milk in them. And, if you forgot your key, you could always get a local kid to go in through the milkbox to open the door for you. And the mailman had a place to put the mail so it didn’t get rained or snowed on, if the weather was bad.
Neither stupid nor ugly, IMHO, the milkbox was really quite handy.
Whoa! Instant shy bladder! I mean, I can pee in the men’s room with other guys around, but a whole infinite stadium’s worth staring at my pecker? No flippin’ way! Even if they all look just like me.
But the name of the apartment building doesn’t tell a cab driver the same information about where it is and how to get to it that its address does. Houses in some parts of Europe used to use signs, rather than addresses, to identify them (your house might be “the sign of the sheep”). They use addresses now instead, and there’s a reason for that.
Mr. Neville lived in a dingbat-style apartment building in Berkeley before we got married. I worried about what might have happened to him if there had been a significant earthquake while he was in that apartment.
White carpet in any climate is stupid. Houses are for living in. That means mud gets tracked in, and food and drinks get spilled. You shouldn’t have flooring that you have to obsess about cleaning immediately after any such occurrence, lest it get permanent stains. You should be able to go on with what you’re doing and clean the floor at your convenience.
Wow, I had never heard of dingbat buildings or even seen one. I find it fascinating that I somehow have completely missed these. Are there any in Michigan? Maybe not and that’s why I didn’t know about them.
When we were looking at houses in New Hampshire in 2002, we saw a one-year-old house with brown shag carpet. Where did the builders/owners even find that?
Having that roof end right over the front door of the left-hand unit- that’s just plain dumb. And what’s with the different heights of the first level on each unit? That’s hideous.
It has a couple of those octagonal windows, too. Clearly, the Ugly Tree fell on that house.
I do not want an island, we are going with a ‘country kitchen table’ instead [tables that have shallow drawers on the 2 long sides, and some tile set in the center to act as pot rests]
I find it is best because we socialize while we cook, and I can sit comfortably in a chair or wheelchair to do food prep. When you have an 800 sq ft 2 bedroom hovel, there isn’t room for a dining table anywhere else anyways.
I just looked it up and it looks very similar to formstone. I never understood why people applied this stuff. A few houses on my street have this, and it just looks ugly. I know from the age of the buildings that it wasn’t original to those houses but rather applied forty years after the houses were built.
Dingbats showed up in post-war LA and were usually two stories. I don’t remember seeing any in Michigan either, but the dingbat is related a little bit to the “four plus one” which is something you’d see more around Chicago.
Decorative dormers are an abomination. I’m not talking about functional dormers. I’m talking about the dormers that are put on attics that can’t possibly have usable living space or storage space for that matter. After googling, theseare the only examples I can find. But I’ve seen a lot worse here in south Alabama.
Finished attics are popular in my neighborhood, probably at least as popular as finished basements. We use our attic for living space. I’m not sure if the house was originally designed for that, or if the attic was finished later. We have a dormer in our attic, and it’s a nice place for a bookshelf.
A dingbat apartment building might be practical in an area that gets floods. But they’re bad news in an earthquake, and they are ugly.
That was a joke. Have you read Raymond Chandler, or seen The Big Sleep?:
Marlowe is always telling cab drivers the name of an apartment building without an address, and the driver knows exactly where to go. Of course, these were the luxury apartments whose names the dingbats were imitating.
