Who Needs a Laugh Tonight?

I do. And McSweeney’s sure provided me one with “How We Restored Our New York City Loft to an Authentic Nineteenth-Century Sweatshop.” This is gold:

From the moment my husband Jon and I saw the sun-drenched loft on Mercer, we knew two things: We absolutely loved it, and we had to change everything.

We loved the location, the fourteen-foot ceilings, the exposed brick, the historic pre-labor-law building. But the more modern additions were intolerably bourgeois. This space was not meant to be a luxury condo; it was meant to be a vehicle for ruthlessly extracting wealth from the sweat of the proletariat. So, determined to bring a little authenticity back to the neighborhood, we rolled up our sleeves and paid someone else to get to work.

We started by rectifying the primary crime committed against this architectural gem: the gauche “walls” installed by previous owners. What was a tacky two-bedroom, two-bath gave way to the true space in all its original glory: a magnificent no-bed, no-bath open concept with a completely inaccessible fire exit.

Next, we filled the place with period details, like a wood-burning garbage pail, original molding (the spores were hard to find but the smell was worth it), and low-wage labor.

We wanted the vibe to be high-end and vintage but also lived-in and unfussy. When we installed rows of turn-of-the-century sewing machines, Jon had to remind me, “Babe, these are gonna get some blood on them. This place is going to be packed with malnourished immigrants working fifteen-hour shifts in low light—accidents happen. And you know what? That’s beautiful. Because it’s life. It’s real.”

It goes from there.

It’s funny because it’s kind of true.