Aleen and Sami host Ryan Serhant from Million Dollar Listing. We talk about how much we love real estate porn, Ryan’s experience as the world’s most greatest hand model, and where we should buy an apartment. A Dear Betch reader asks how to deal with her disgusting roommate, and we do some Would You Rathers (duh)
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Image: Alex Abaunza
Since we’ve practically been able to walk, we’ve been tricked into some serious romance fuckery that modern-day love stories always pan out like the end of a Disney movie—as if Prince Charming would actually search every apartment up and down all of Brooklyn for the woman who perfectly fits into the shoe she left on a date. Umm… Pretty sure the chances of me seeing my left Aldo pump or my dignity after last weekend’s walk of shame are slim to good-fucking-luck. But that’s not what’s important here.
What I’m actually here to tell you is that, shocker alert, nothing is what it seems when it comes to romantic films. Hate to break it to you, but not every eligible bachelorette in the tri-state area also owns a spacious duplex with an interior design replica of Z Gallerie. Like, I’m still waiting on a rom com where Katherine Heigl lives on a strict diet of Top Ramen and Frosted Flakes in a dumpster studio after going broke from being forced to purchase 27 fugly bridesmaid dresses not even Sears would stand to carry. But thanks to my diligent Google research, I’m now well aware that
my poor career choice has forced me to become financially dependent on a rich male these bitches would prob be living in hole if not for this thing called skewed perception, or rent control for that matter. So here are the actual prices of their humble abodes IRL, and it’s literally just as un-shocking as it is annoying.
Carrie Bradshaw’s Apartment, Sex and the City
If you seriously thought that Carrie Bradshaw actually lived comfortably (and by comfortably, I mean living on an every day diet of brunch at the Plaza and weekly Chanel shopping binges) on a columnist’s salary, you’re out of your batshit mind. Her one-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side cost her a whopping $700 a month (good one, rent control), but in reality, the place would go for about $3,000. Actually, in REAL reality, the building is located in West Village, and is actually a 4,100-square-foot house with four stories, 10 rooms and six fireplaces. In 2012, it sold for $9.85 million aka Mr. Big’s slutty pocket change.
Carrie And Big’s Apartment, Sex And The City
Speaking of the devil, idk what the fuck Mr. Big even did for a living, but clearly money was all Carrie was after considering he’s an actual piece of shit (#TeamAidan). Literally the only reason she stayed with him was because she forgot her Manolos, and also that closet, but like, I get it. Their apartment was located on Fifth Avenue across from Central Park, but the interior was actually shot in a four-story walk-up on 62nd Street, costing $190,000 a month to rent, or $40–$50 million to buy. K fine, I guess this was worth settling for.
Beth And Neil’s Loft, He’s Just Not That Into You
Such a typical fuckboy Ben Affleck move (or just what I feel is something Ben would do) to have all the benefits of a marriage without the actual marriage itself, including the beautiful brick Baltimore loft on Federal Hill. Bless Jen’s heart for playing a character she actually had to live out in real life, but like, at least they were only paying $2,280 a month for a 2-bedroom. Steal.
Noah’s Waterfront House, The Notebook
Noah’s fairytale fixer-upper was actually built in 1772 as a 4-bedroom waterfront property on Wadmalaw Island in South Carolina. Its current monthly rental price goes for a whopping $12,000—again, that’s PER MONTH—which translates to about $695 a month back in 1940. Fat chance Noah’s carpentry salary could afford that, so idk maybe they offered him a sick 2-for-1 discount on wood panels. But tbh, that man could’ve built me a dumpster behind the house and I’d still be naked on his wrap-around balcony in record time.
Jenna Rink’s Apartment, 13 Going On 30
Jenna’s epic glow-up
and Regina George complex led her to become a big-time bitch magazine editor, so being able to afford an apartment on Fifth Avenue is semi-believable. On average, a one-bedroom in the building where she first stumbled out in lingerie goes for about $4,000 a month, or $1.3 million for purchase. Unfortunately, she traded her hot pro-hockey player boyfriend and his thingy for her formerly fat friend, so none for Jenna Rink bye.
Marisa’s Apartment, Maid In Manhattan
I don’t care what you say, Maid in Manhattan is the most underrated J.Lo film of all time, and this is not up for debate. Mostly because we got a real glimpse of actual “Jenny from the Block”, as seen by her 2-bedroom Bronx apartment on E. 175th Street, which would cost $1,300 a month today #gentrification. But also because if J.Lo can marry rich, then so can I. Speaking of hot wealthy men, the hotel suite rented by Christopher Marshall at the make-believe Beresford Hotel was actually filmed at the Roosevelt Hotel and the boujee Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which would go for $12K a month. Tell me love don’t cost a thing now. I’ll wait.
Sam’s Houseboat, Sleepless In Seattle
This giant houseboat shacking it on Lake Union in Seattle is the reason I have trust issues. If I was never forced to sit through the already mystifying plot of this movie, I’d think this thing was straight out of some lakeside horror film. The houseboat has four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a lakeside dock and was last sold for $2 million in 2014, so it’s a nice setup. Still, something about taking a woman you literally don’t know back to a floating house on a dark lake just screams R.I.P.
Vivian’s Apartment, Pretty Woman
I’m not sure how a hooker can’t afford a little nicer of a place, but Viv’s rates were apparently not cut out for big city income. Her apartment in LA’s Las Palmas hotel went for a whopping $185 a month, although average room prices per night are now $300. This was yet another classic case of damsel in distress saved by fuckboy and his wallet, seeing as Edward’s 2-bed, 3-bath penthouse suite at the Regent Beverly Wilshire Hotel went for $38,500 per week. No wonder I’m so fucked up.