AROTA

“A rare opportunity to acquire…”

Is it though?

It’s exactly the same apartment that the person next door owns, and they bought theirs three months ago.

It’s a terraced house. Semi detached. A new build.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with any of these things. They’re just not, you know, rare.

It’s getting to the stage where the overuse of this phrase by serial agency offenders is ruining things for people like me. On occasions like today. Where I would like to use rare in a contextually correct fashion.

For example, how many Penthouses are there in London which are directly opposite not one, but two Royal Parks?

Or where a Penthouse is actually a Penthouse.

For clarity, here are some things that are not Penthouses:

An apartment which is on the top floor, but has no outside space.

An apartment with no views. An apartment which is on the penultimate floor of a building.

To whoever came up with the idea of a sub-Penthouse, you have caused David Ogilvy to die a second death. I hope that you’re happy with yourself.

Just so we’re clear, things are not what we call them, they are what they are. And in a world where make believe is so often peddled as reality, we have lost something.

An actual definition of rarity.

Not a print, a limited run, or a copy. Not something that every other person is queuing up for, only to re-sell online later the same day.

Not hype, not hyperbole and definitely not Virgin Cola. Sorry Richard, but people want a genuine taste of the real thing.

I remember sitting in the back of the car as a child, craning my neck to try and see the top of apartment buildings, wondering who lived up there. Tony Stark? Lex Luthor?

Then I grew up and chose a career where I would get to sell these homes in the sky. Which was, and still is, very exciting. Because, to let you into a secret, I absolutely love Penthouses.

For their exclusivity. For their views. For their privacy. For the possibility that Iron Man might really own one, and I might get to sell his.

To me, they have always represented something not just rare, but rarefied - much more so than houses of equivalent value.

They’re a barometer of success, obviously. Just a quieter kind.

Because they’re hidden away. If you’re lucky, in the trees. Above the hustle and bustle of the streets below. Where you can live a city life, but in peace and seclusion.

Seeing the sunrise over the city? Coming home after a busy day and watching it set over close to five hundred acres of Royal Park?That’s special. That’s rare.

Over the past twenty years I’ve been lucky enough to sell my fair share of Penthouses. From Whitehall to Hampstead, from Notting Hill to Kings Cross, and everything in between.

As someone who likes spotting patterns, the buyers of these Penthouses all had traits in common. They were discerning. They didn’t want the same as everyone else.

Some years ago I was talking to one such person, who was searching for the perfect London Penthouse. He observed that the design choices in the homes he was being offered were seemingly made with only two questions in mind - “is it shiny” and “will people think it’s expensive”?

I know what you’re thinking. Is it even possible to find an antidote to all of this? Something unique in a sea of conformity?

Well, I am glad you asked that, because the answer is a resounding yes. And the good news doesn’t end there. The Primrose Hill Penthouse is looking for its next custodian.

When the current owners bought it, almost none of what exists today did. Back then, it was just a rare opportunity to acquire a rare opportunity. It needed vision. Lots.

The kind of vision that requires an understanding of both the provenance of Penthouse apartments and the history of Primrose Hill.

Rooftop living, made famous by musicians, writers and photographers in mid-century New York. A London neighbourhood which began as a home to artisans and makers.

And the result of this vision? Well, I’m not sure that words alone do it justice.

A curation of the privately commissioned, painstakingly sourced and lovingly reclaimed. A startling riposte to the drudgery of super-prime design. Imagined in partnership with Maria Speake of the renowned Retrouvius Design Studio.

Four distinct spaces of over 1,000 square feet each. Joined by a glazed central spine, the floor laid with solid stone which once adorned the floors of Europe’s busiest passenger airport. A journey of anonymous transience to familial permanence, from Heathrow to Primrose Hill.

A pair of bespoke, Dennis Sparling designed doors, standing sentry at the threshold between the private lift lobby and the thousand square feet of open plan kitchen, dining and family space.

Bespoke leather work by Bill Amberg. Stone columns from a Manchester department store. Reclaimed leaded glass panels. A kitchen counter of snooker table slate. The shelf above it once belonging to Brighton Pier. Pieces of Great Britain, given a new life.

A guest bathroom by Blott Kerr-Wilson, The Goldsmiths trained shell artist and World of Interiors design winner. Her brief? A space left by nature, after the tide has gone out. And a loo with a view that would delight even E.M. Forster.

And behind it all? Meticulous craftsmanship. Exquisite finishes. Unobtrusive technology.

If I carried on and listed all of its virtues, you might consider it showing off. But that’s not what the best Penthouses do. Instead they speak with an assured confidence.

They’re defined by quiet luxury, not display. Designed for the love of craftsmanship and materiality. Influenced by a desire to live a fabulous life, without the need for anyone else’s approval.

Primrose Hill Penthouse is for sale, and details can be found here