New condo towers mean construction racket.

Poor Williamsburg. It's now suffering a terrible fate known to but a handful of pert prom queens and high school football hunks—it is not only possible to be popular, but to be too popular.

While many of the newcomers who have recently washed up on Williamsburg's luxury condo-strewn shores are no doubt aware that the neighborhood is "changing" and that that change is part of what makes it attractive to so many new, well-heeled residents—would they have been able to buy artisanal chutney there back in 2005?—they're apparently more than a little uncomfortable with the fact that it continues to, well, change. At least, they hate the construction, according to DNAinfo.

"It's annoying to be outside with a baby, it's loud and dusty," Northside Piers resident Vanessa Vellucci told DNAinfo.

She's not the only one. Other mothers complain about having to take their children to local cafes far from the construction noise to get in a decent nap. Bars might also be a good option—day drinkers tend toward quiet melancholy—if you can get out before the baby curfew kicks in.

Even nannies are complaining about the construction dust blowing into baby's faces and making them cry.

But most admit that irksome though all the racket may be, it's just part of living in a neighborhood that's basically being built from scatch—one SoulCycle gym and condo tower at a time. (Well, sometimes several at one time).

"I do love the neighborhood, and once it's done it'll be amazing," one woman told DNAinfo. "But I guess if you move here first, you have to go through the changes."

For the time being, they'll just have to grit their teeth, focus on rising real estate values and dream of the day when the only thing there will be to complain about is the unimaginative architecture.

What's wrong with 823 Park?

Back in 2007 and 2008, buying at 823 Park Avenue seemed like the gold-standard of real estate investments. The newly-converted luxury condo on Park Avenue was a rare commodity in one of the city's most rarefied neighborhoods. How could an investment in one of its sprawling floor-throughs go wrong?

But in the years since, resales at the building have  failed to fetch more than the first wave of owners paid.

Maybe it's just not a $15 million kind of building.

Of course, buying at heady prices (more than $4,000 a square foot) right before a global recession isn't conducive to making good on one's investment. But now the trophy market is back, and sellers are still losing money.

Take the recent sale of a full-floor residence that belonged to Joseph Oughourlian and Jennifer A. Banks. The couple paid $13.82 million for the five-bedroom, 4.5-bath sponsor unit in January 2008. Earlier this month, they sold it at a considerable loss—for $12.9 million—to private equity honcho Thomas Uger, according to city records.

Considering the other places that Mr. Oughourlian might have parked his money before the recession (for example, with Madoff), a $1 million loss isn't the worst possible fate. But the couple had clearly hoped to do better when they listed the unit for $15 million with Corcoran's Charlie Attias in August.

What's more, Mr. Oughourlian's apartment isn't the only one at 823 Park that has given a less stellar performance the second time around.

There's also the 10th-floor apartment, which was purchased for $13.8 million back in 2008 and sold for a mere $13 million this fall. And the duplex that spans the second and first floors, purchased for $20 million by UBS exec Ramesh Singh in 2008. It's currently off-the-market, but was asking only $15 million last fall.

Like their neighbors, the Oughourlian Banks probably just miscalculated the market for lavish, 4,184-square-foot apartments with coffered ceilings, carved fireplaces, herringbone oak floors and mahogany-paneled libraries.

"That was the price we could get," Mr. Attias said when The Observer reached him on the phone.

Why such a low price?

He hesitated, then admitted that it might have something to do with the fact that the unit first sold before the recession."

It was, he added, a beautiful pre-war buliding, and beautiful pre-war buildings, particularly condo conversions, usually sell marvelously.

Just maybe not as marvelously as they did before the recession, when sinking a fat sum into a condo carried with it not only the promise of a place to live, but a potential jackpot.

kvelsey@observer.com

Is 740 Park blighted?

It's easy to see who's winning the popularity contest in New York real estate circles these days. Co-ops, like many a high school queen bee, are granted grudging respect: good looking, better grades, they hang out with all the best people and wield an awesome amount of social power. But condos, well, condos seem to have it all: they're beautiful, friends with all the cool foreign kids and they're so nice while still playing the edgy bad boy.

Over the past year or so, belligerently wealthy out-of-towners have been snapping up New York condos like so many Jimmy Choos and boarding school seats. The Russians have invaded and we couldn't be happier, and the rest of the world is eager to follow. Glassy condo towers are—after their brief recessionary hiatus—rising again. Indeed, the biggest residential deals of the year went down neither at co-ops nor mansions but at 15 Central Park West and newfound rivals One57 and the Ritz Carlton. Amazingly the Ritz may look like an old co-op but it is actually a 2002 condo conversion of the old St. Moritz hotel. Back then, units sold for a fraction of what they are now getting, and certainly less than its co-op rivals on Park and Fifth avenues.

The same, alas, cannot be said of co-ops. Marvelous as those bastions of old money are, they are also notorious for their rigid policies and grueling board interviews, where one's future neighbors—if one is so lucky—pour over financial documents and probe into personal lives. Look no further than the case of godly 740 Park. While the famed building notched a co-op record this year with the $52 million sale of Courtney Sale Ross' immense spread, that is half the price of some of the record deals now taking place. Meanwhile Goldman guy Jonathan Sobel sold a penthouse at the Verona (a very nice one, but still, ever heard of the place?) for more than he paid for a new duplex at 740 Park. He got a 45 percent discount, to boot, from what the home was first asking four years ago.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. But might they rise again by becoming condos?

"It has been done and it is possible," said attorney Jeffrey Reich, whose firm Wolf Haldenstein Adler Freeman & Herz is counsel to co-op and condo boards around the city. However, when asked if the surging condo market had inspired a rush of interest in such conversions, the answer was a firm no.

It is possible, yes, but it is not easy—financial complications, considerable costs and terrifying taxes all stand in the way—and honestly, any board member who has battled for months, even years, over some silly bit of building minutiae knows they shouldn't even fantasize about this kind of thing.

"Frankly most co-ops don't want to convert," Mr. Reichel said. "There was a lot of interest in conversions 10 years ago, but during the downturn people really grew to appreciate co-ops."

Basically, Mr. Reich said, the co-op would first of all need to pay off its underlying mortgage and individual owners would need to trade in their share loans for mortgages. The conversion could not be completed, in other words, while the building held any debt, a situation that precludes a large number of condo conversions unless shareholders are willing to pony up the cash to pay off the building's mortgage and make the switch happen.

Moreover, the IRS views such conversions as a taxable event, meaning that essentially, property owners would be seen as having sold their co-ops for market value and purchased new condo units, a huge tax liability, especially for owners who purchased their units a long time ago and have seen their values shoot up. A $250,000 co-op purchased in the 1970s could easily be worth $5 million now. Which is fabulous if an owner decides to sell, but less fabulous if the owner stays put and must, essentially, pay for the income earned on trading in his or her shares. And since stratospheric prices tend to exist only on the highest end, the odds of a payoff seem slim. Plus, additional tax complications abound for the building and commercial units not under certain tax loopholes protecting primary residences.

There are some tax protections that apply to principal residences—owners can exclude the first $250,000 of gains and married couples $500,000—but let's be honest, that's not worth a whole lot in today's market.

To add to the headache, the co-op might even need an architect to prepare a new set of plans for the building and certify them “as built.”

Freedom, as the old saw goes, comes at a cost.

"I've heard buildings talk about it, especially as condo sales have outpaced co-op sales in several neighborhoods," said Gil Neary, founder of DG Neary Realty. "But really, you're changing a lot of money to change your identity and really what you could do without too much trouble is just to change the rules, which is what most people object to."

Nor are conversions entirely agreeable to the set that lives in co-ops in the first place. Many New Yorkers who chose to call co-ops home actually like the advantages of the cooperative lifestyle—sharing a building and its many inevitable headaches with a carefully vetted pool of like-minded people. It adds financial security, the thinking goes, because residents get to interrogate their neighbors. Many housing experts point to this as a big part of the reason the city's housing market has been less buffeted by the housing bubble. It may be a historical quirk that the city is filled with co-ops (they still outnumber condos 3 to 1) but some people do like them. And a co-op can always rewrite its bylaws, transforming into that glorious beast, the cond-op, built like a co-op but with condo rules, should cooperators want to stop looking down their noses at any would-be residents.

There is also the vote. In order to convert, a supermajority of shareholders must vote in favor of the change—bylaws often set that number between 66 and 80 percent. Not only would that many New Yorkers never agree on anything, but imagine the nasty stares in the halls from the small minority who didn't want the conversion. For anyone who has attended board meetings where picking lamps for the lobby is an impossibility, the difficulty of convincing residents should be apparent.

Still, while one shouldn't expect to see 740 Park or 820 Fifth abandoning their shareholder system anytime soon—Howard Marks might have kept his stunning apartment at the Ritz Carlton, but he traded the place for a spread in the oldline co-op just like Mr. Sobel—there are a few New York buildings that have successfully made the transition. A co-op in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, and another in Rego Park, Queens, have switched and are, reportedly, happy with the results. They were tired of paying the massive maintenance that seemed to be distressing possible buyers.

Others seem reluctant to jump on board—make that off board. In the end, the easiest solution for condo lovers in co-ops is simply to sell and buy a condo. The condo board won't judge.

kvelsey@observer.com

Wellington Tower Condo Board Says, "Play By the Rules: No Payment, No Pool."

Gracious living is the hallmark of life at Wellington Tower Condominium. Luxuries like a round-the-clock doorman, concierge and parking valet, a skylit swimming pool, on-site maid services, dry cleaning and spa facilities provide residents “with the very essence of living well.”

Unless, that is, a resident falls from grace.

A few years ago it became obvious to the board of the East 82nd Street building that not everyone was contributing to Wellington Tower’s luxurious lifestyle. A few occupants—not many, but a few—were more than a little bit behind on their common charges. And although they weren’t paying for the kinds of comforts that smooth out life’s rough edges, they were still enjoying them. This didn’t seem right to the board. So they cut the delinquents off.

“We decided it really wasn’t fair to allow them to use the same amenities,” said board president Rebecca Sheinberg. “Other people in the building don’t want to be subsidizing people who aren’t paying.”

So now, the doormen won’t accept packages for residents who are more than a few months’ behind, and their key fobs no longer open the doors to the pool, the gym or the playroom.
“We haven’t gone to the extent as some other people, like cutting off the elevator,” noted Ms. Sheinberg, pausing for a moment of reflection. “Besides, the elevator is situated far from the front desk, so it would be too hard to enforce. And going to the extreme like that, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the other unit owners.”

Such tactics may make genteel Gold Coasters draw a disapproving breath, but they are being adopted by a growing number of buildings in New York. And for buildings that embrace medieval life in more than their “baronial living rooms,” there is even public shaming.
“Some buildings will put notices of who’s delinquent in the halls, the elevator, at the front desk,” co-op and condo board attorney Jeffrey Reich told The Observer. “What you might call Scarlet Letter techniques.”

Depriving guests of luxuries is increasingly popular with boards, Mr. Reich said, especially at condos. Co-ops are in a “first lien” position, meaning that they collect before the mortgage-holder. Not only do they get paid first, but banks will often pay a delinquent resident’s maintenance charges. Condo boards, on the other hand, get paid last and must either collect the scraps following foreclosure proceedings or win a money judgment against a delinquent tenant.

Moreover co-ops, unlike condos, did not engage in the amenities arms race of the early ’aughts that brought swimming pools and golf simulators, acres of shared terraces and media rooms rivaling movie theaters—felicities that can easily push maintenance costs above $1,000 a month, even for modest units (and unlike co-op charges, theirs don’t include the property tax bill). Also, resentment builds much faster when you see your deadbeat neighbors sunning themselves by the pool.

“If one or more shareholders aren’t paying, the cash requirements still have to be met,” said Eva Talel, an attorney at the law firm Strook, Strook & Lavan, which advises hundreds of building boards and is the in-house counsel to REBNY. “It’s not just a matter of frustration—it can really become a matter of economic hardship, especially in smaller buildings.”
Restriction measures, Ms. Talel added, are not intended to be punitive—it’s just another means of getting the maintenance paid—but she admitted that they might feel that way.

“I haven’t heard of any fisticuffs on account of people having to go down to pick up their Chinese food,” Ms. Talel said. “But I expect that people are not happy when it happens. And that’s the idea.”

Fisticuffs no, but temper tantrums? Definitely.

“They create scenes,” sighed Midboro Management president Michael Wolfe. Midboro is careful to notify residents before they’re cut off, to eliminate surprises, Mr. Wolfe said, and publicizes the policy so that those with deactivated keycards will be less likely to rap at the doors with sob stories of mysterious demagnetizations. But still, there are scenes.
One of the on-site managers related to The Observer how one man last week became “very upset and screamed at the people in the pool to let him in: ‘I’m an owner here, how can you not let me in?’

“Usually, they’ll try to bluff their way out of it, but if it’s hot enough, they’ll come back with a check,” Mr. Wolfe quipped. “It is an effective tool. When the amenities are gone, certainly, life isn’t as pleasing as it might be. Also, it’s embarrassing.”

And what are the most “effective” amenities to cut-off?
“I think parking is the most painful, although I hate to use the word painful,” Mr. Wolfe struggled to find a softer word choice, finally settling on “the most motivating.”

Other management companies said that they have seen similarly promising results.

“People are angry, but sometimes things get resolved, or at least resolved quicker, when they don’t have access to the amenities,” explained David Wurtzel, the president of Cooper Square Realty.

And even the loss of small luxuries can be nettlesome. A resident of Chelsea condo Chadwin House who hadn’t paid his common charges for years and had a unit in foreclosure, pleaded with the judge to restore his doorman services if he started paying his monthly fees again, according to Robert Holland, a lawyer who represents the Chadwin House board.

“He was complaining that the doorman wouldn’t open the door for him or accept his food deliveries,” Mr. Holland said. The judge was sympathetic. The man started paying around $500 a month common charges, although, given that he still owes more than $40,000 to the board—a debt that remains unresolved—it’s hardly a fairy-tale ending.

Paul Brensilber, president of Jordan Cooper & Associates, the management company that oversees not only Wellington Tower, but a handful of other buildings that have taken a hard line on amenities, has mixed feelings about the practice.

“It’s never a good thing to have owners fighting against owners. It adds a lot of tension to the relationship between neighbors,” he said. “And while, from a sporting perspective, it’s interesting to watch, it puts the building staff in a bad position.

“If the goal is to get paid, I haven’t seen that yet,” Mr. Brensilber added. “But foreclosures take forever and a few shareholders can dramatically impact a condo’s budget. Other owners have to increase their common charges to make up for lost revenue. It’s ugly.”

Ugly is putting it mildly. At 95 Greene Street, a SoHo building that Mr. Brensilber also manages, celebrity photographer Kenneth Nahoum and his Victoria’s Secret model girlfriend, Basia Milewicz, stopped paying the common charges for the four penthouses they had amassed, units that accounted for some 20 percent of the building’s square footage and a good deal of its operating budget.

After phone calls, letters and liens failed to elicit any response from the couple, the building cut off elevator service to the penthouses (legal, since the building is only six stories) and removed their names from the door buzzer. At some point, Mr. Nahoum’s courtside seats at a Knicks game further fanned the flames. The board ultimately hung posters in the building with a photo of the couple at a Halloween party captioned “Why aren’t these ‘caped crusaders’ paying their common charges?”

“We didn’t have a lot of recourse. The legal system is extremely slow,” said board president Jesse Newhouse. “We knocked around a number of ideas and this was pretty much the only thing we could think of that was in any way enforceable and legal.”

The couple fired back with a $2.1 million harassment suit; the judge asked the board to remove the posters. One of the units has since sold, but the couple still owes the board more than $100,000, according to board attorney Robert Braverman, and everyone else in the building is paying 25 percent more every month to make up for the difference. Deprivation has worked in other buildings that he advises, Mr. Braverman said, but 95 Greene is “a very unusual, crazy situation.”

“It’s unfortunate that it came down to something as silly as that,” Mr. Newhouse reflected. “But we had someone who was gaming the system and there was nothing we could do about it. He had multiple units. He certainly had the opportunity to sell some.”
Had he lost faith in the method?

Mr. Newhouse sighed. “No. I mean we have to do something. I think it’s a war of attrition at this point, but we would be negligent if we did nothing.”

Mr. Nahoum was not available for comment. Like many of the other residents in arrears The Observer tried to contact, his listed number was no longer in service (phone companies, unlike condos, do not view cutting services as a novelty). The Observer did, however, reach Solomon J. Jaskiel, the lawyer who had represented the couple in the countersuit.

“Legally, I thought the poster was breaching the board’s fiduciary duty,” said Mr. Jaskiel. “Personally, I thought it was outrageous. Can you imagine if anyone who you owed money to could hang up signs in front of your house? I mean, the fact that they were living with these people—it’s even more outrageous!”

Still, the methods are not something that boards, brokers or management agents are all that eager to discuss. The practice seems a little indelicate, in the words of one source, or tacky even, as another whispered with gleeful reluctance. Prudential Douglas Elliman and Halsted property management declined to comment, and while Brown Harris Stevens admitted to using the practice, none of the buildings they manage wanted to talk about it.

They were even more reluctant to discuss public shaming, aka, posting arrears lists, although a few expressed shock and horror on even hearing that such a thing existed.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate. We don’t shun people!” cried Roberta Axelrod, who sits on the board of 10 buildings as a sponsor representative of Time Equities residential, where she is director of the sales and rentals division.

Certainly, some residents want to know who is in arrears, she admitted, but in her opinion, it’s none of their business.

Distasteful as the tactics may be—and even if they don’t persuade delinquents to pay up—they do serve some purpose. At Wellington Towers, the results of the austerity measures have been financially negligible, Ms. Sheinberg admitted, but they were certainly worthwhile.

“Has it caused people to pay their arrears?” she pondered. “I don’t know. But it has given the other unit owners …” she paused to find le mot juste. “I wouldn’t say satisfaction, that’s not the word. It’s almost like the punishment fits the crime.”

kvelsey@observer.com

Spring sales: there's just something in the air (orchidgalore/Flickr)

Ah, spring! The season of warm breezes, blossoming trees and brisk home sales is upon us. And last week saw a flurry of activity, with 22 contracts signed for homes $4 million and above, according to the Olshan Luxury Market report.

The number was a luxury market record for 2012, with the biggest contract signed for the $22 million duplex co-op at 88 Central Park West (12 room duplex co-op, park views, 6,000-square feet). However, most of the action was happening downtown and most of it involved condos (10 of the 22 contracts signed were for downtown condos).

"One thing I can say absolutely is that condos are outselling co-ops two to one and downtown is as popular as uptown," said Donna Olshan, author of the eponymous report and a brokerage firm bearing her name.

And it's not only new developments. Downtown townhouses are also selling well, with 17 sales in 2012 (compared with 9 on the townhouse obsessed Upper East Side).

And what makes downtown condos and townhouses so popular? Well, no one is particularly fond of the co-op approval process, and it's even less popular among one of the largest pied-a-terre seeking crowds—foreigner buyers. Ms. Olshan noted that Jonathan Miller had recently estimated that foreign sales were responsible for as many as a third of condo and townhouse sales, up from roughly one-in-five.

The average asking price for condos $4 million and above was $2,530 per square foot, Ms. Olshan said, with the average size being 2,991-square-feet. Ms. Olshan said that the second week of February also saw a lot of action—with 21 contracts signed, but "this is the spring market," (20 contracts were signed last week).

During the same week last year, there were 16 homes in contract in the $4 million and above price range.

"Last summer we hit that terrible August with the meltdown in Greece and Congress not being able to pass the budget. The theory is that a lot of people who were interested in buying hit the pause button," said Ms. Olshan. "Now, the spring is playing catch-up and we're seeing demand from tons of people."

kvelsey@observer.com

She can't settle down (Chesi - Photos CC, flickr)

Sometimes you have to say goodbye— relationships fail, love fades, and it comes time to leave the pair of West Village condos that you thought you'd be with forever.

Our favorite Friend Jennifer Aniston has sold her pair of apartments at 299 W. 12th Street for $6.5 million, the New York Post reports. And apparently she was somewhat desperate to be rid of them, letting them go at a $500,000 loss.

Ms. Aniston bought the condos—a one-bedroom on the 17th floor and a one-bedroom penthouse—less than a year ago, under the name of her now-dead dog Norman. Construction plans were reportedly in the works for combining the terrace-laden penthouse with the unit below, but it was not to be.

The penthouse has “one of the most beautiful terraces in the city, with unobstructed forever views,” Prudential Douglas Elliman broker Bruce Ehrmann told the Post.

It wasn't the condos fault, it was just that Ms. Aniston, who is now dating Justin Theroux, wanted/needed? something different, something the condos couldn't give her.

Could the condo sale signal her engagement to Mr. Theroux? A pregnancy? A futile attempt to stem the tide of despair over Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's impending nuptials?

We doubt it. Ms. Aniston has a history of New York apartment flings, looking everywhere from the Financial District to Union Square in her search for the one. And there were signs of trouble early on. In November, Ms. Aniston was spotted leaving an $8.5 million apartment at 50 Gramercy Park North.

Ms. Aniston will now presumably seek comfort in the arms of the $21 million Beverly Hills mansion that she purchased in January.

kvelsey@observer.com

Get out the bleach? (carlpenergy, flickr)

Many a New York basement and unventilated bathroom is thick with the stuff; the city's courts may be next.

A few weeks ago, Manhattan's appellate court overturned an earlier decision blocking damage claims for health problems resulting from living in moldy buildings, The Journal reports—a decision that could result in a wave of personal injury lawsuits.

The court decided that scientific evidence now indicates a causal relationship between mold and health problems, opening a legal door that has been closed since 2008, when a judge found insufficient evidence that mold or a damp indoor environment causes illness.

The change has left building owners, co-op and condo lawyers worrying about the musty recesses of their buildings, and whether a damp basement could be grounds for a lawsuit, according to the Journal.

And worry they should. Last year, housing inspectors issued 15,942 violations for mold-related conditions, which could equal an awful lot of lawsuits.

Dwellers of dank apartments experiencing headaches, nausea and respiratory distress can thank Hell's Kitchen tenant Brenda Cornell for bringing mold back to the court's attention.

Cornell, who lived above a Hell's Kitchen basement that was "damp, musty, and harboring bugs and mice," is seeking $11.8 million in damages, according to the lawsuit.

Cornell said she experienced dizziness, chest tightness, congestion, shortness of breath, a rash, swollen eyes and a metallic taste in her mouth after workers started construction on a basement. The problems abated after Cornell fled the apartment, the lawsuit claims.

"It is going to result in a heck of a lot more lawsuits being filed by people who have mold- and moisture-related conditions and suffer from health effects," Bill Sothern, a certified industrial hygienist told the The Journal.

He may be right. In Texas, where mold-afflicted residents have been long been able to sue, the number of mold-related claims shot up sharply in the early 2000s, costing Texas insurance companies approximately $4 billion.

kvelsey@observer.com

She's living out front, with one of those cabanas to call her own.

When Nina Lorez Collins and her husband moved into 212 Columbia Heights in 2005, The Times declared that "the Manhattanization of Brooklyn took a great leap past the point of no return." One violent divorce later, Ms. Collins, a once celebrated literary agent, put the house on the market last fall. The listing bragged of "harbor views from every floor," which helped it fetch a record $11 million, the most ever paid for a home in Brooklyn Heights.

So would Ms. Collins be returning to Manhattan after her journey in the wilderness? It turns out she could not even abandon those harbor views, as she has moved down the hill to One Brooklyn Bridge Park, the hulking Jehovah's Witnesses printing plant turned condo complex.

A spacious square. (Streeteasy)

Two days after the sale of her townhouse closed, Ms. Collin's paid $3.51 million for a four bedroom condo at the development on January 19, according to a freshly filed deed. That is more than the $3.08 million asking price from the summer of 2010, though the premium not only reflects a stronger real estate market but also the inclusion of a terrace unit, one of those clever carve-outs so popular during the real estate boom—might I interest you in your own private cabana?

The unit is one of the townhouse-style homes facing the harbor, with its own private entrance and a pocket terrace. Built as a duplex, the living area and one bedroom are located on the upper floor with two more bedrooms and the master suite on the lower level spread across an ample 3,482 square feet—not quite the 7,000 footer Ms. Collins once called home, but still none too shabby. Plus, Brooklyn Bridge Park is right out front her door, no need to cross the BQE anymore to get there.

"One Brooklyn Bridge Park is a monumental building, grand in scope, scale, and style," MNS broker Rachel Poggi writers in her listing. Kind of like Ms. Collins, who has become HuffPo's own Carrie Bradshaw, writing about the travails of her friend's marriages and her own. After spending two decades in the publishing industry, Ms. Collins is now at work on a memoir of her own.

But with only four bedrooms, where will Ms. Collins' four children, whom she often writes about, stay? Perhaps the naughtiest child can take up residence in the cabana.

Want to see the place for yourself? Someone posted an incredibly thorough (and rambling) tour on YouTube.

And the cabana.

This guy is good.

mchaban [at] observer.com | @MC_NYC

Give us your tired, your weary, your wealthy.

Wonder why luxury real estate is so expensive and hard to find these days? Blame the foreigners!

A report from Stribling released Friday gives some hard numbers to something New Yorkers have been complaining for years: foreigners are buying up all the best apartments. According to Crain's, the brokerage claims that about 33 percent of all condo purchasers and 15 percent of all buyers in New York City are from other countries. When the housing market was stronger, foreigners comprised up to 30 percent of all property buyers in the city.

But why do foreigners have such a propensity to snatch up prime real estate in New York? Aside from the obvious reasons (New York is, of course, the capital the world), apparently out-of-towners tend to have lots of cold, hard cash, something absolutely irresistible to Big Apple brokers.

On the bright side, foreigners are largely credited with keeping the city's housing market afloat. On the downside, they drive up prices for the rest of us.

Other revelations? Foreigners like both modern and pre-war buildings and come from all corners of the globe.

New York City property has long attracted foreign buyers, a trend that took off in 1976 when the Olympic Tower opened on Fifth Avenue and East 51st Street, according to Stribling. It noted that foreign buyers are attracted to new modern, glassy towers as well as pre-war properties that have been converted into luxury condos. The brokerage also noted that biggest overseas buyers today are those in Russia, China, Brazil and Argentina. Back in the early years of the new millennium it was Europeans, led by the Irish who led the charge in New York.

Should you manage to sneak your way into a condo building, odds are at least one neighbor on either side of you will be a Russian oligarch or Saudi oil baron with a suitcase full of cash.

eknutsen@observer.com

We're missing our siblings. (Brownstoner)

Hudson Yards. Atlantic Yards. The Williamsburg waterfront. For the past decade, residential development has been defined by the creation and conversion of soaring condo towers across the city. From Extell’s Ariel twins on the Upper West Side to so many of the Financial District’s former office buildings, this was the way we built, the way we were to live. But the era of the condo project is over, according to The Journal.

Because banks will not lend, developers have lost their zest for large-scale projects. Small loans in the $25 million to $75 million range are becoming available, but with rare exceptions like the Rudins’ St. Vincent’s project, anything upwards of $500 million is nearly impossible to come by. This has left developers taking a different tack.

At least a dozen boutique projects in Manhattan and Brooklyn are now under construction or set to break ground in the coming months. At least six more are launching sales—from the Story House, an eight-unit condo in the Flatiron District, to 174 Jackson in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. [snip]

For condo buyers that means a very different product. The brand-new 40th-floor bachelor pad with sweeping views of Central Park could become rare, as developers increasingly sell the pleasures of a project's intimacy or exclusivity.

"Buyers recognize the scarcity value of these projects," said Joe McMillan, chief executive of DDG Partners, which received a $26 million construction loan for a brand-new roughly 40-unit condo building at 345 W. 14th St. near the Meatpacking District.

But this also means a big problem for the city. There is still a housing crunch, and while luxury condos were not going to fix that, a shortage of new units of any type still creates problems. That is part of the reason it is no cheaper renting now than it was three or four years ago, even though we’re still in the midst of one of the worst recessions in decades.

Meanwhile, developers keep dreaming up their big plans. Oldies like the Edge and Northside Piers in Williamsburg are both short one additional tower, and with units still left in the buildings and financing far away, who knows when they will do anything more than serve flea market food. As for all those unfinished sites up an down the coast, their beginning is anyone’s guess. It also leaves the Rudins and Relateds and Ratners of the city battling for what financing is out there.

New York will build big again, we always do--don’t forget the booms of the ‘80s on the Upper East Side, or the ‘30s on the Upper East Side for that matter. Still, it might not be until the 2030s we start doing it again.

mchaban [at] observer.com | @MC_NYC