I don't know if reviewer Jaymie Lynn S. just went in for a tour or actually lived in the building, because I don't think it deserves her glowing praise. Here's my experience:
First the good.
The location is great. It's close to The Grove, Melrose, and the Farmer's Market. The Commissary underneath is incredible pretentious, but a great place to grab a cup of coffee. The staff at Tailwaggers are true animal lovers and very nice.
The finishings are pretty luxe. A stainless steel appliance suite and hardwood floors add a nice touch. In terms of amenities, the view from the rooftop deck and on-site gym can't be beat.
Now the bad.
The rents are on par with the most luxury buildings in the area, but the units scrimp on space and storage. Utilities are not included (but rent does include parking, unlike The Crescent) so add a couple hundred plus bucks there. The lack of closets will be a real turn-off to girls and guys with a lot of clothes. While there's a lot of built-in storage, no one will want to store their shoes in the kitchen.
I opted for a penthouse unit because I thought it would be quiet. I was totally wrong. There is little to no sound insulation between the penthouse floor and the rooftop deck, which means you can hear everything up there. Make sure you bring a friend and have him/her walk/talk right above your unit, move the deck chairs around, and most importantly, walk in the rock beds. There's nothing worst when you're trying to sleep and a girl in stilettos is walking around at 2am, or someone's letting their dog run through the rock beds. Seriously, it sounds like it's raining gravel on the ceiling.
Which brings me to the last bad point. The residents. There are a few nice people in the building. The rest are uptight junior publicist types who think they're entitled to everything. Good luck getting them to follow the rooftop curfew. I didn't mind if people were up there around midnight, but it really bugged me at 2am, 3am and even 4am.
There's one guy who thinks he's a recording artist and sings so badly that I thought it was a joke. But after hearing him scream for hours day in and day out I almost wanted to die. There's another guy who constantly drunk and smoked pot on the roof ... I even found him passed out there in the cold. And just wait until you have people throwing parties right above you. There's nothing like a boombox reverbing through your unit (they're not allowed per the rooftop rules, but that's never enforced) and thirty people walking right on top of you.
Now the ugly.
They say you can't pick your neighbors. I wish you could. I lived next to two guys who vandalized my unit. Basically, they thought I did something I didn't, and out of spite threw garbage at my unit. They and a mob of friends also walked back and forth in front of my keyhole mouthing the words "f--k you" and flipping me off.
This act was completely unprovoked (the other neighbors and security guard can confirm this). You wouldn't expect this immature, illegal behavior from people who pay $2200+/month in rent, but it happened.
Kyla, the building manager, was sympathetic but little was done. I didn't even receive an apology until several days later, and my neighbors lied and blamed their friends. I saw them vandalize my door with my own eyes.
The management was unsympathetic and dismissed their actions as "not a big deal." When someone defiles property and tries to intimidate you, that's not a big deal? And, I might add, these neighbors have a police file on them from a previous domestic incident. So this is luxury living, eh?
Kyla did help me break my lease and move out but I feel she could've done more. In fact, I had a replacement come in who she said didn't qualify, but said he did the following day. When I called the replacement, he had already signed another lease. Her indecisiveness cost me $5,000 -- I couldn't find another renter until two months later.
I didn't stay my full lease, but other residents told me they raise -- not lower the rents after a year.
Moving here was one of the worst -- and costliest -- decisions in my life. read more