It’s what Clara refers to as “renting in reverse,” which is as odd as it is useful. She and Reuben literally go back to 1876 while others rush to update their apartments. Not only is their house decorated in a Victorian style, but it also functions according to Victorian principles.
In exchange for a rent cut that would make most Brighton tenants shudder, they voluntarily removed plumbing upgrades, Wi-Fi, and electricity. Without hesitation, their landlord agreed, looking slightly amused but incredibly relieved. He informed me, “They never call me about broken thermostats.” “They have none at all.”
| Key Detail | Description |
|---|---|
| Location | Brighton, UK |
| Historical Era Emulated | Year 1876 (Victorian Period) |
| Main Subjects | Clara and Reuben (fictional, inspired by real couple) |
| Rent Savings | Approximately 30–40% lower than Brighton average |
| Lifestyle Features | No modern appliances, period clothing, handmade furnishings |
| Local Rent Stats | Brighton renters spend ~45% of gross income on rent (ONS 2024) |
| Referenced Link | www.bbc.com/news/articles/cw4nzy3q9z4o |
Brighton’s rents have increased dramatically over the last ten years, burdening even households with two incomes. However, by forgoing contemporary comforts in favor of reasonably priced stability, Clara and Reuben discovered a gap in the market. That switch has been especially helpful, especially as the cost of energy continues to rise every winter.
Despite its lack of space, their apartment is remarkably practical. A kitchen is represented by a small scullery. The kettle is heated by coal. The room is lit by candles in a way that is almost meditative. Reuben used salvaged floorboards to build shelves. Clara used used muslin to sew curtains. Everything suggests a way of thinking that involves slowing down, repurposing, and subtly defying consumer conventions.
They have significantly decreased their reliance on high-demand services as well as their utility bills by cooking on a cast-iron stove and doing their own laundry. That kind of simplicity has a very powerful effect. It is considered charming by their neighbors. It struck me as subtly radical.
They have turned a tenancy into an experiment in living differently by exercising strategic self-control. A digital calendar does not exist. Avoid scrolling through social media. Rather, days are characterized by the ebb and flow of daylight, interspersed with handwritten notes, needlework, and tea brewed by the fireplace.
Soot dusting his brow and sleeves rolled high, Reuben told me how repetition brought him peace. As he made meticulous adjustments to the coal grate, he remarked, “Every task matters more when it takes longer.” He spoke with the assurance of someone who was well aware of the trade-offs and completely at ease with them.
Clara was using a tool that was heated over a flame to iron linen when I visited. She worked silently, calmly concentrating on pressing the cloth. I inquired as to whether she missed the ease of using a plug-in iron. “When you spend time wisely, it’s never wasted,” she answered in a very clear voice.
Their decision seems almost subversive given Brighton’s unstable housing pressures. The majority of young tenants are compelled to give up safety, cleanliness, or space. Instead, Clara and Reuben compromised the century, and it has surprisingly paid off.
They have very low costs. They walk almost everywhere, mend their own clothes, and barter for vegetables. Their monthly expenses have dramatically dropped since they stopped using digital entertainment and delivery apps. When frugality is backed by choice rather than adversity, it has a compelling charm.
Reuben had constructed a brass pulley system to dry clothes over the stove, and I recall watching him perfect it. Pulling the line carefully, he said, “Every inch earns its keep.” His patience was even more impressive than his precision.
Such a life would not be chosen by everyone. However, that’s exactly what happened—they did. They have developed an anchored rhythm by embracing inconvenience. In a culture that is based on speed, this rhythm is becoming more and more uncommon.
Their choice stands out as a remarkably sensible alternative for medium-sized cities like Brighton, where affordability is gradually eroding. It may not scale. It may not be suitable for everyone. Unquestionably, though, it piques curiosity and provides a subtle blueprint for those who yearn for a slower, simpler, more purposeful way of living.
The hallway of their apartment had a subtle scent of lavender soap and coal when I left. In the window, a candle flickered. “Supper at six, bread fresh today” was written in a handwritten note behind it.
I didn’t get takeout that night. Instead, I wrote a letter.
