"TOKYO — At the end of a long day at work in the offices of
Japan’s professional baseball league, Asumi Fujiwara returned to her apartment
and changed into pajamas. She wanted to get in a light workout before going to
bed, so she placed her vinyl yoga mat on the floor in front of the toilet,
rolling it past the single kitchen burner and the one-slot toaster and toward
the foot of her desk.
After a bit of stretching, she stood to get into the warrior
position. Instead of extending her arms fully, though, she pulled her elbows
into her sides. “I need to modify my poses or else I will hit something,” Ms.
Fujiwara, 29, said.
Such is life in a 95-square-foot (8.8 square meters) Tokyo
apartment.
With its high property prices and the world’s most populous
metropolitan area, Tokyo has long been known for small accommodations. But
these new apartments — known as three-tatami rooms, based on how many standard
Japanese floor mats would cover the living space — are pushing the boundaries
of normal living.
A real estate developer, Spilytus, has been leading the
charge toward ever-tinier spaces. It has been operating these shoe-box
apartments since 2015, and with more than 1,500 residents now in its 100
buildings, demand has remained strong.
While the units are half the size of an average studio
apartment in Tokyo, they have 12-foot (3.66 meters) ceilings and an attic-like
loft for sleeping. They are also stylish, with pristine white floors and walls,
and with some efficient arranging, it is possible to squeeze a washing machine,
a fridge, a sofa and a work desk inside.
The apartments are not for those on a really tight budget.
Cheaper apartments can be found, though they are usually decades old. But the
microapartments, which rent for $340 to $630 a month, are a couple hundred
dollars less than other studio apartments in similar areas. And they are
situated near trendy locations in central Tokyo like Harajuku, Nakameguro and
Shibuya, which are generally quite expensive, with luxury boutiques, cafes and
restaurants. Most of the buildings are close to subway stations — the top
priority for many young people.
Over two-thirds of the buildings’ residents are people in
their 20s, who in Japan earn on average about $17,000 to $20,000 a year,
according to government data. (Wages in Tokyo are on the higher end.) Some are
drawn by the minimal initial fees and the lack of a deposit or “gift money” — a
nonrefundable payment to the landlord that can be as much as three months’ rent
— for many rentals.
The small spaces work for the lifestyle of many young
Japanese. In Japan, it is not customary to hosts guests in homes, with nearly a
third of Japanese people saying they have never had friends over, according to
a survey by Growth From Knowledge, a data provider for the consumer goods
industry.
Ms. Fujiwara has not even had her partner over in the nearly
two years she has been living in her apartment. “This space is for me,” she
said.
Many Japanese, young and old, also work long hours, leaving
little time to spend at home. And a growing share of people in Tokyo are living
alone, making smaller spaces more desirable. Such people are more likely to eat
out, or grab one of the many premade meal options from convenience stores or
groceries, so a full kitchen is less necessary.
Yugo Kinoshita, 19, a college student who works part time
making beef bowls at a chain restaurant, is among those for whom an apartment
is little more than a place to sleep.
By the time his shift is over, it is an hour to midnight and
he is exhausted. He eats his free staff meal, goes to a “sento” public bath and
passes out the second he gets back to his Spilytus unit. His days otherwise are
filled with doing schoolwork for his degree in nutrition and seeing friends.
When he does spend some waking hours at home, the box that acts
as a TV stand transforms into a study desk and kitchen counter. To clean the
floor, all he needs is a lint roller.
Even after having had to bid a teary-eyed goodbye to his
collection of Nike Dunks because there was no place for them, Mr. Kinoshita
said that at this point in his life, “I wouldn’t live anywhere else.”
For some residents, the tiny apartments offer a gateway to
long-deferred independence.
Two years ago, Kana Komatsubara, 26, started looking for an
apartment so she could finally move out of her parents’ home in the suburbs of
Tokyo.
She wanted a recently built space, easy access to work, and
a toilet and a shower in separate rooms (a common request in Japan) — all
within her relatively tight budget. She was not necessarily looking for a
microunit, but her search led her to a Spilytus apartment.
“Of course, the bigger the better. It never hurts to have a
larger space,” she said. “This was simply the best option for me at the time.”
On a recent afternoon, Ms. Komatsubara, a nail stylist,
walked a minute from her nearest subway station in the Shinjuku district of
Tokyo, through a narrow alleyway lined with worn-down homes, and unlocked the
main door to her apartment building.
She walked up three flights of narrow stairs — the buildings
have no elevators — to her room, which was behind one of the identical burgundy
doors lining the common hallway.
Inside, a tiny “genkan,” or entryway, had enough room for
exactly three pairs of shoes. A 20-inch-wide hallway led to the main room, past
the kitchen sink, where Ms. Komatsubara leaves a tube of toothpaste and a
bottle of mouthwash.
She stores her work equipment, such as blue-light machines
for gel nails and mannequin hands to practice on, in the place intended to hold
a washing machine. A plastic trash bag hanging off her door knob must be taken
out almost daily.
One benefit of small living, she said, is less ice cream.
Her mini-fridge lacks a working freezer, so she eats less of it. That, along
with her daily boxing routine, means she has gotten into better shape.
Ms. Fujiwara, the baseball league employee, was drawn to her
microapartment after the pandemic began. She had been living in a shared house,
but not having space to herself while working from home caused stress and anxiety.
Her smaller space has pushed her to live more sustainably,
she said. “Small living has helped me think twice whenever I want to buy
something new,” she added.
Yet hanging next to her sink is a stack of 40 or so brown
paper cups. “I don’t have space to dry any dishes,” she said.
She and Ms. Komatsubara both wish they had more space for
clothing, which they neatly hang in their lofts. Ms. Komatsubara goes to her
parents’ house at the start of every season, most recently to swap out her crop
tops for sweaters.
Both women gave up having washing machines — they are
expected in most Japanese apartments — in order to use the space more
efficiently, and they instead go to a coin laundry once or twice a week.
Mr. Kinoshita does have a washing machine, but with no
dryer, he hangs his wet clothes on the railing where his curtains should be. He
also can’t do some of the homework for his nutrition degree at home, because
his kitchen is too small.
Ms. Komatsubara has decided to move on from her apartment —
because she wants something even cheaper.
“As I’ve grown older, my requirements, what I want out of an
apartment, has shifted,” she said."
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