It was as if I were walking through an issue of Architectural Digest. I gingerly stepped on travertine floors with a pair of disposable medical shoe covers clinging to my beat-up sneakers. I wandered through minimalist rooms abutting sunny courtyards and then gazed longingly into shimmering swimming pools until I was temporarily blinded by reflected sunlight.
As I progressed through these midcentury architectural masterpieces in Palm Springs, the term “real estate envy” crystallized before my eyes. Touring the desert homes was like a dream, a dream that made me seriously rethink my Ikea furniture purchases and nudged me toward cleaning the red wine stains off my living room rug.
But at that moment I just wanted to pretend that I could live in such places. These dwellings smelled of optimism, innovation, and Windex.