Our Agony Aunt Meg Mason dishes out
somewhat questionable style and decorating
advice to would-be DIY renovatorsStay tuned for more of Meg’s invaluable renovating tips in our next issue.revive the... home bar A forgotten objet ripe for resurgence
Getting a spot at the bar was never a problem for the 1970s reveller, since the bar was in the corner of their own
living room. Fully stocked, back-lit, mirror-inset in a gleaming mahogany-esque finish... every hour was happy hour.My husband and I have been househunting for four months,
and have already lost out at a dozen auctions. Do you have an
advice on how to succeed? We’re starting to lose hope.
Jen, Coomera, QldW
ere I to sit,withsharpened pencil and legal pad,
and try to jot down the components of a truly
awful Saturday, the final list would include... w
froma fitful night’s sleep with the sort of tension headache
that’s impervious to pharmacy-only painkillers and a sleeve
of Nespresso pods, swallowed dry; being, by breakfast-time,
so gripped with a nameless dread that your puffed quinoa
is like chalk in the mouth; falling out with your husband
because he forgot to remove the property section from
the papers before bringing them inside, as per instruction,
and now you can’t unread a headline announcing a 74 per
cent jump in house prices since last Wednesday. Add to the
list, realising as you rinse your conditioner, that you may
have misplaced a six-figure bank cheque made out to cash
experiencing a crushing disappointment of some kind, preferably
attended by a palpable, very public reminder of how much money
you don’t have compared to other people; and doing a spin class.
Bar that last one, I have also described an average Saturday
at an auction. Having endured so many, as yet to no end,
it’s no wonder your faith is failing. How, after all, could you
ever have more money than the 50 other hopefuls clustered
curbside, waiting for a sharp-suited auctioneer to get on with
his eight minutes of intense psychological torture, all gavel-
wavery and bogus ‘going-onces’.
Can you ever know triumph when, barely having raised
your paddle, a developer who’s left his Maserati running
bids $800,000 over the reserve? What hope do you have against
a 23-year-old punter whose parents are there to chip in that
last million, when yours will later try and split the bill at yum
cha. The futility! The anguish! The sobbing convulsively in
school-sports traffic on the way home!
To think, by way of aside, that there are people who pop
along to auctions for fun. Not even in the market, just enjoying
a takeaway coffee and the spectacle of human suffering, although- now I’ve said it – I can see that’s merely the modern equivalent
of the ancient Romans watching Christians get torn apart by
lions before heading off to brunch.
Anyway, where were we? Strategy, yes. Some experts say
bid as much as you can as early as you can, so as to startle
rivals with your apparently limitless resources and laser-like
focus. Others say hang back and hope you’ll be able to storm
in with a match-stealing thousand as the hammer falls.
But the method that’s worked time and again for me?
Choose a property you really do have a shot at – which is
to say, one with a guide price at least $300,000 below your
toppy-top. Once bidding begins, peck away at the competition
with so many bafflingly tiny increments – $57.20, $1003, € 8
and an expired Bunnings card – that eventually, confusion sets
in and their parking runs out and you’re home, sweet home.I’ve been thinking about putting a plunge pool in the backyard.
What factors should I consider before going ahead?
Miriam, via email
If, after a very clear-eyed assessment of your rear proportions,
you’re sure you have the space and won’t be forever stepping
out of the bi-folds and straight into the shallow end, I say
why not? Glorious on a summer’s day, lovely to look at, even
sitting under a thick blanket of dead frangipanis, and if it’s only
2m x 2m, you can truthfully tell your co-workers you knocked
out 50 laps before coming into the office.Q&A
154 / Inside Out
ILLUSTRATION: KAT CHADWICK