E-Mail This Article to a Friend Behind the curtain (continued)
	Where to get it • Bernie & Phyl’s, various locations; www.bernphyl.com • Bowl & Board, 1354 Beacon Street, Brookline, (617) 566-4726; 1063 Mass Ave, Cambridge, (617) 661-0350; www.bowlandboard.com • Building 19, various locations; www.building19.com • Carolina Rustica, www.carolinarustica.com • Crate & Barrel, various locations; www.crateandbarrel.com • Dream On Futon, 830 Mass Ave, Cambridge, (617) 864-6000; www.dreamonfuton.com • IKEA, www.ikea.com • Pier 1 Imports, various locations; www.pier1.com • Pottery Barn, various locations; www.potterybarn.com • Restoration Hardware, various locations; www.restorationhardware.com • Williams-Sonoma, Copley Place, 100 Huntington Avenue, Boston, (617) 262-3080; 300 Boylston Street, Chestnut Hill, (617) 928-0158; www.williams-sonoma.com — NM

Location: Anderson Street, Beacon Hill.

Size: 350-square-foot studio.

Rent: $1100 per month.

Dwellers: Marissa LaVigne, 27, team leader in new accounts at J.P. Morgan; two cats, Cleo and Maui.

While Smith and DeFelice have the luxury of a spacious apartment a bit outside town, LaVigne sacrifices space to live in one of the most desirable (and exclusive) neighborhoods in Boston. Beacon Hill, with its narrow streets, stately brick houses, cobblestones, and gas street lamps, epitomizes Old Boston (not to mention old money). It’s a cozy quarter with an intimate olde-towne air, and for the most part, it’s a student-free zone. Charles Street, with its antique shops and restaurants, boutiques and bistros, exudes city romance. But what about the stereotype that all the pearl-necked and loafer-shod residents have more cash than they know what to do with? "No, no," jokes LaVigne, "people are just paying a lot for rent and eating Ramen all the time." (Take a moment and picture John Kerry, famed Beacon Hill resident, slurping up some noodles.)

"I love the location," says LaVigne. "I have a 10-minute walk to work. And everything is right here." Not only are restaurants and stores within shouting distance, but Cambridge is a quick shot across the river, and a short stroll leads you to the heart of downtown. "The only thing that’s far away," LaVigne explains, "is BC," where she’s pursuing her MBA. "It takes about an hour and 15 minutes to get over to Chestnut Hill on the T."

Walking up the hill toward LaVigne’s place, you almost feel like you’ve left the city — and perhaps even the century — and arrived in some new realm of urban life and time. This is what you pay for, perhaps. Because you’re certainly not getting a lot of space. LaVigne’s studio, a single room on the second floor of an old brick townhouse, is small. You could stand in the doorway and spit to the opposite wall. But LaVigne has set it up in such a way that there are obvious delineations among kitchen, living room, and bedroom.

A tall, round table from Carolina Rustica, a North Carolina–based furniture store that specializes in wood and iron, sits by the kitchen nook, with two high chairs from Crate & Barrel. LaVigne’s bed is tucked around the corner, creating a private sleeping area. And she’s placed a large futon from Dream On Futon by her bed, which provides a physical divide between public and private space. A large trapezoidal bureau with woven-bamboo drawers from Pier 1 Imports holds her television, as well as vases she picked up on a trip to Russia and a pitcher she got in Italy.

"I’d say that’s my decorating strategy," says LaVigne. "Sort of international. I do a lot of traveling, and I like to bring things back from the places I go."

But does she ever feel cramped in the space? "To be honest, I don’t spend a lot of time here," she says. "It’d be nice to be able to have people over for dinner every once in a while," but she opts for location over space, and feels lucky to have found this studio. "A bunch of the studios I saw around here were just these rectangles with no division at all between the kitchen and the rest of the space. It just wasn’t comfortable to me. I like this place." And with one-bedroom apartments in Beacon Hill running around $1600 per month, hers is comparatively reasonable.

LaVigne wasn’t sure at first about living alone. She’d lived in Central Square, the symphony neighborhood, and another place in Beacon Hill, all with roommates. "It’s definitely nice to have people around to talk to, and I was nervous that I’d miss that," she says. "But it’s so much easier living alone."

Location: Josephine Avenue, Ball Square, Somerville.

Size: Four bedrooms; one study; kitchen; dining room; living room; front and back porches; one and a half bathrooms.

Rent: $2400 per month.

Dwellers: Naseem Khuri, 25, associate at Conflict Management Group at Harvard, executive coordinator of the American Diaspora Alliance, and aspiring singer-songwriter; John Stalker, 29, software engineer at the Broad Institute at MIT; Dennis McDaniels, 25, bartender at Sweetwater Café, aspiring philosopher; Nina Freeman, 24, aspiring actress, student at San Francisco’s American Conservatory Theater; Ron Hanlon, 25, site manager and tent assembler at A Tent for Rent.

Solo living has its perks. You don’t have to worry about anyone gulping your milk, pilfering your pudding, or snacking on your Tostitos. There’s no shower-schedule negotiation, and no need to play your Springsteen records at a respectful volume. Living alone, you’re the only one to blame if the dishes pile up in the sink or if the toilet doesn’t get cleaned.

But sharing a place with a bunch of people has its own set of advantages. Whether you move in with randoms or old friends, a certain level of intimacy (though not necessarily friendship) inevitably sprouts between roommates. House dynamics — however trying — can rival The Real World for entertainment. And there’s an elevated level of energy in a place shared by more than three people; each individual brings his or her own bustling life in and out of the place, which ends up a hodgepodge of personalities and furnishings, where the only stylistic rhyme or reason is that there isn’t any.

Such is the case on the second and third floors of an old Ball Square house occupied by five people. At the moment, the apartment’s electricity is being updated; gaping holes, exposed wires, and lots of dust and spackle define the space right now. Furniture has been piled into the center of rooms and covered with plastic sheets to make room for electricians and carpenters. Amidst the shambles, it’s apparent that this place is a jumble of hand-me-downs and cheap finds.

In the living room, a pair of televisions sit side by side. One of the two must be busted, right? "No," says Stalker, "they both work. It’s set up for the next couple months: Red Sox and Patriots."

"See this couch?" says Khuri, lifting up a tarp to reveal a well-worn sofa. "We grabbed this from my sister’s boyfriend’s ex-wife."

"And that big table over there," adds Stalker, pointing to the antique with thick carved legs, "was left over from the people who lived here before. Sometimes it feels like our whole place is hand-me-downs," he says. "Not the IKEA chair, though."

Khuri lifts a print of an old man with a banjo off the floor in the pantry. "My sisters gave me this. They got it at Building 19."

Both Stalker and Khuri cite the apartment’s location as one of its best features. "It’s a 10-minute walk to Davis Square and 13 minutes to Porter," says Stalker. "And you’ve got to remember Sound Bites," says Khuri, talking about why he loves the place he lives. "Best breakfast around." He also mentions the importance of porches and the joy of watching the cars on his street: an old Ford Mustang, a couple of vintage Cadillacs, and "a real old Duster. Our street is paved with class."

Inside, the whole apartment has a rickety summer-house feel to it; the stairs squeak, the banister wobbles, "and this wall just fell off the other day," says Stalker, pointing to a waist-high spot where the dry wall came off to reveal slats of wood underneath. "But that’s just because of the construction."

Nina MacLaughlin can be reached at nmaclaughlin[a]phx.com