Generally the way the former works is that you have to have been living continuously in the home since July 1, 1971, and the building itself needs to have been constructed before 1947. If this is the case, then in theory, you should have seen relatively minor rent increases over the years.
This was the case for the late real estate agent, Alice Mason, who died at the beginning of this year at the age of 100:
She never left the rent-stabilized [controlled?] apartment where she held her storied dinners, in a century-old building on East 72nd Street. (In Manhattan real estate parlance, it was a classic eight, a gracious prewar layout that included three bedrooms and two maid’s rooms.) In 2011, the developer Harry Macklowe bought the building for a reported $70 million and began to turn the units into condos, buying out the tenants to do so.
Generally the way the former works is that you have to have been living continuously in the home since July 1, 1971, and the building itself needs to have been constructed before 1947. If this is the case, then in theory, you should have seen relatively minor rent increases over the years.
This was the case for the late real estate agent, Alice Mason, who died at the beginning of this year at the age of 100:
She never left the rent-stabilized [controlled?] apartment where she held her storied dinners, in a century-old building on East 72nd Street. (In Manhattan real estate parlance, it was a classic eight, a gracious prewar layout that included three bedrooms and two maid’s rooms.) In 2011, the developer Harry Macklowe bought the building for a reported $70 million and began to turn the units into condos, buying out the tenants to do so.
But Ms. Mason refused to give up her apartment. When she moved there in 1962, the rent was $400 a month. At her death, it was $2,476. The apartment below her, in the same line, was recently on the market for just under $10 million.
Green, Penelope. “Alice Mason, Real Estate Fixer and Hostess to the Elite, Dies at 100.” The New York Times, 13 Jan. 2024, www.nytimes.com/2024/01/11/style/alice-mason-dead.html.
For better or for worse, this is an obviously awesome deal, and reason enough to never move and have family members move in with you before you die so that you can try and pass down this asset for generations to come.
Last week we spoke about how many businesses don't want to own their own real estate, but that some do. We then spoke about Prada's recent acquisition of 720 and 724 Fifth Avenue for $835 million. However, they're not the only ones. According to New York's The Real Deal (thank you John Bell for the article), last year saw the following transactions:
Swiss fashion house Akris bought a property from SL Green for $40.6 million
Japanese coffee retailer Geshary bought a property on Fifth Avenue from the Riese Organization for $38 million
And Dyson bought a building in Soho for $60 million
Now, some, or a lot of this, is strategic. New York is New York, and global brands need to be there. Another part of this is that there was less competition last year. Fewer real estate companies wanted to buy retail and office buildings, and so end users seem to have stepped in at what they presumably saw as favourable prices.
But it's also not totally foreign for retailers to want to own their own real estate. Perhaps the most famous example is McDonald's, which owns its own real estate and then leases it out to franchisees. Though as I alluded to last week, it's important to know what business you're ultimately in. And McDonald's knows it's in the real estate business.
Activity centers are exactly what they sound like. But to be more specific, the definition used in the report is based on five categories of assets: community, tourism, consumption, institutional, and economic. And what the authors did was look at the relative concentration of each across the 110 metropolitan statistical areas (MSAs) in the US with at least 500,000 residents.
They then came up with 3 different kinds of activity centers. Monocenters (blue in the above map), secondary centers (yellow), and primary centers (orange). Monocenters have, as you'd probably expect, a lot of one kind of asset. Secondary centers, on the other hand, have "some of at least two kinds of assets." And primary centers have "a lot of at least two kinds of assets."
But Ms. Mason refused to give up her apartment. When she moved there in 1962, the rent was $400 a month. At her death, it was $2,476. The apartment below her, in the same line, was recently on the market for just under $10 million.
Green, Penelope. “Alice Mason, Real Estate Fixer and Hostess to the Elite, Dies at 100.” The New York Times, 13 Jan. 2024, www.nytimes.com/2024/01/11/style/alice-mason-dead.html.
For better or for worse, this is an obviously awesome deal, and reason enough to never move and have family members move in with you before you die so that you can try and pass down this asset for generations to come.
Last week we spoke about how many businesses don't want to own their own real estate, but that some do. We then spoke about Prada's recent acquisition of 720 and 724 Fifth Avenue for $835 million. However, they're not the only ones. According to New York's The Real Deal (thank you John Bell for the article), last year saw the following transactions:
Swiss fashion house Akris bought a property from SL Green for $40.6 million
Japanese coffee retailer Geshary bought a property on Fifth Avenue from the Riese Organization for $38 million
And Dyson bought a building in Soho for $60 million
Now, some, or a lot of this, is strategic. New York is New York, and global brands need to be there. Another part of this is that there was less competition last year. Fewer real estate companies wanted to buy retail and office buildings, and so end users seem to have stepped in at what they presumably saw as favourable prices.
But it's also not totally foreign for retailers to want to own their own real estate. Perhaps the most famous example is McDonald's, which owns its own real estate and then leases it out to franchisees. Though as I alluded to last week, it's important to know what business you're ultimately in. And McDonald's knows it's in the real estate business.
Activity centers are exactly what they sound like. But to be more specific, the definition used in the report is based on five categories of assets: community, tourism, consumption, institutional, and economic. And what the authors did was look at the relative concentration of each across the 110 metropolitan statistical areas (MSAs) in the US with at least 500,000 residents.
They then came up with 3 different kinds of activity centers. Monocenters (blue in the above map), secondary centers (yellow), and primary centers (orange). Monocenters have, as you'd probably expect, a lot of one kind of asset. Secondary centers, on the other hand, have "some of at least two kinds of assets." And primary centers have "a lot of at least two kinds of assets."
Looking at the above map, it is pretty clear -- and not at all surprising -- that Manhattan is, for the most part, one giant activity center. There is a lot going on. But this is not the typical condition. In the 110 metro areas looked at in the study, activity centers only occupy about 3% of land on average. The remaining 97% of land is, based on the above definition, a non-activity center.
Why this matters is that activity centers punch above their weight. Despite representing a small land area, activity centers are home to 40% of all private sector jobs in the US. Supposedly, they also increase productivity (by an additional ~$1,723 per worker), yield higher property values (+26%), increase inclusivity, and reduce vehicle miles travelled.
So yeah, more activity centers sounds like a good thing for our cities. Though as we have learned in recent years, we need to be careful with monocenters.
Map: Brookings
Looking at the above map, it is pretty clear -- and not at all surprising -- that Manhattan is, for the most part, one giant activity center. There is a lot going on. But this is not the typical condition. In the 110 metro areas looked at in the study, activity centers only occupy about 3% of land on average. The remaining 97% of land is, based on the above definition, a non-activity center.
Why this matters is that activity centers punch above their weight. Despite representing a small land area, activity centers are home to 40% of all private sector jobs in the US. Supposedly, they also increase productivity (by an additional ~$1,723 per worker), yield higher property values (+26%), increase inclusivity, and reduce vehicle miles travelled.
So yeah, more activity centers sounds like a good thing for our cities. Though as we have learned in recent years, we need to be careful with monocenters.
