Hamptons Renters Can Be Choosers
nytimes.com
June 14, 2001
Hamptons Renters Can Be Choosers
By TRACIE ROZHON
AST HAMPTON, N.Y. -- FROM stately homes to waterfront cottages, the houses of the Hamptons are strutting their stuff with their usual élan. But this season, their scissored grounds sport lawn ornaments not seen in recent years: "for rent" signs.
The signs — both the hand-lettered hardware store variety, with a phone number scrawled in grease pencil, and metal agency placards — are everywhere: along Main Street in Amagansett, on Lumber Lane in Bridgehampton, on Hill Street in Southampton. "We didn't see them here last year at all," said Diane Saatchi, president of Dayton Halstead Real Estate here. "I've had `for rent' signs in my storage area for 10 years and never used them before."
At the beginning of this week, 7,400 properties were still for rent from Westhampton Beach to Montauk, according to Cook Pony Farm Real Estate, about 20 percent more than at the same time last year. "We're seeing signs for the first time in very posh neighborhoods," said Judy Desidario, a vice president there. "So it's a little bit of a panic."
Anyone with income to dispose of and fluid plans for the summer can choose a five-bedroom postwar shingled dream house with views of the Maidstone Club or a bungalow nestled against a bank of ferns at the end of a dead-end road — and many in between.
One reason so many houses are available is simply that more owners have been tempted by extraordinarily high rents. Then again, with tech stocks plummeting, the owners may have to rent, brokers say. Meanwhile, would-be renters may not have the cash. Not only that: agents say the cold, damp spring kept families away (those that didn't lose their Lacoste shirts in the market).
"Greed, weather and the stock market — a million different reasons came together this summer," said Frank Newbold, who manages the East Hampton branch of Sotheby's real estate.
While some owners may have to rent because of stock market reverses, others are just opportunistic, Ms. Desidario said. "Prices have escalated so much during the last three to five years that people are saying, `You know what, honey, we can get $25,000 — for one month — for our ordinary house.' They can go anywhere in the world for that money." Ms. Saatchi said that prices of houses that have actually rented are 9 percent higher than last year, which is more than twice the increase from 1999 to 2000.
So the rentals just keep on coming onto the glutted market: last week, there were 26 new listings in the East Hampton area alone, according to Cook Pony Farm. "This is June!" Ms. Desidario said. "You should list your house in January, at the very latest."
So now, landlords who haven't rented are trying to decide what they must do to compete. Should they buy new furniture? Replace the vinyl siding with shingles? Install that cute front garden, or throw around some terra-cotta planters with impatiens and ivy?
But while landlords may be having anxiety attacks, they are not ready to give their rentals away. Agents warn bottom-fishers not to expect miracles; a house on the ocean, without pool or air-conditioning, starts at $100,000 for the season, said Stuart Epstein, owner of Devlin McNiff Real Estate. Prices are negotiable, but so far, 20 percent off the original listing price seems to be the maximum discount.
Take the charming five-bedroom shingled cottage on Middle Lane in East Hampton, complete with gunite (don't even mention vinyl-lined) pool, crunchy gravel drive and house-high privet hedges. The house comes with the "in" Hamptons furnishings: beige leather armless chairs in the living room with dark wood cube end tables. It also has a new brick outdoor fireplace and, from the second floor, views of the Maidstone Club. The rental does not come with club membership, but what do you expect for $200,000 (for two months)? The price was reduced from $250,000 on May 11.
Although whopping reductions are rare — forget half price — many landlords are willing to make concessions to tenants, like picking up the cost of vacuuming the pool, cleaning the house or mowing the lawn — things that sound like real gifts but that over the season average only about $1,000 apiece.
Some smart landlords are even throwing in an old car with a beach sticker. "You spend a couple of hundred thousand on a rental, and they throw in a $200 sticker," Ms. Saatchi said. "But people really like it, because they're getting something free."
And landlords are now agreeing to "split the season." In previous years, they could demand full-summer rentals, but now they will consider renting for August alone, and (Heaven forbid!) use the place themselves in July. "They're O.K.'ing more bite-size rents," Mr. Newbold said. "Lots of owners are disappointed, but, hey, it's a different world out here now."
One month at, say, $25,000 is better than none. That is big money for people who rely on summer rental income to cover their children's college education, their club dues or the lease on the Range Rover. Those are the people who are getting serious, the real estate agents say, dropping rents and making concessions.
Other owners simply don't need the irritations that come with dividing the rental between two sets of renters (one in July, one in August), or letting two families share. "Those people will just decide not to rent this year," Mr. Newbold said.
But for one Manhattanite, a private banker, renting was crucial to his acquisition plan.
"I just bought the house in February," said the man, 40, who didn't want his name used for what he called personal reasons. "It's been my dream for years and years, and finally I found something cheap enough." He paid $385,000 for the house, on a third of an acre on Fresh Pond Road in Amagansett, and thought he would rent it out for at least two summers to help pay for it.
But he spent too much time painting and listed it too late — brokers say it should have been offered by Valentine's Day at the latest — although he wants only $17,500 for the season. "Frankly, I haven't gotten a lot of calls," he said. "There are a gazillion properties still for rent."
To distinguish his house from the pack, he took digital photographs and made up his own listing sheet. Last weekend, he dropped off copies at dozens of real estate agencies, hoping they would send them to clients by e-mail.
So far, he has received one call. "It's from an agent whose clients want to find a house — for their personal chef," he said. "Imagine that: my dream house, for somebody's personal chef!"
But that's not the worst part. "They only want it for July," he said.
Copyright 2001 The New York Times Company | Privacy Information |
