Size Matters
Life in the Eye, the Zoo, and the Kitchen Sweet,
with enough room leftover for Beirut.
By John E. Clabby ’02 and Shaun Dillon ’02
With room draw approaching, and the dread of the submission to chance that may elevate a student to the metaphorical heights of Scully’s first floor, or send the budding party host crashing down to a double at the top of Dod, a little unease is certainly expected. But housing selection at Princeton need not be an anxious experience if approached energetically, and an enterprising student and his buddies — taking into account the high potential for success for the innovative — may claim a pimped-out pad. The big rooms in particular at Princeton should draw interest as unique experiments in communal living that also provide the creative opportunity to push the use of space, and perhaps even wedge in a ping-pong table for Beirut. The relative security provided by the prox system begs students to snag a room-drawn cavern, unlock the doors, and live wide-open, allowing the proud tenant to perhaps wake up with a naked guy passed out in the common room.
From the posh four-person suites of the Clapp apartments to the various double-digit dwellings off the quad, a tour of Princeton’s larger suites must begin at Wilson College, the only residential space that truly does not want for solid rooms. At great altitude hangs the Eye Suite, which makes a strong bid as the room with the highest potential on campus, although as a six-man it is not quite large enough to become a party room in the classical sense. Each year, the students of the suite construct a great eye in the window to observe the quad, and the black-lit piece of this year is almost good enough to offset their decision to sell their other unique creation: the homemade bottle-cap bar now in the Zoo.
For years, the stud sophomores of the Zoo have slept in the room often called the closest to the Street, and if the walls would talk they would reminisce about last year’s semi-formal and this year’s Century Club. Jon Harris, as Wilson College’s artist in residence, has designed and installed a seascape caricature mural on the north wall that stretches for two stories, and as a common room conversation piece it is assuredly without rival. Other common room fixtures, however, such as the huge Sony Trinitron television in the corner and the accompanying furniture, make the Zoo a strong living space, though compromising available floor area and therefore the potential for a larger gathering. Below 121 Dodge-Osborn, minus one story of ceiling area but with a larger TV, is the Subzoo, whose tenants boast that theirs is the only room on campus with a fenced-in backyard, one perfect for Spring barbecues if weather and proctor will permit.
Across the quad is the Kitchen Suite, with its full-size fridge, stove, and even bathtub, and the rumor that a goldfish-eating contest was held there two years ago. Farther from the quad is 211 Gauss, with its high ceiling and similar kitchen area that make it perfect for cocktail parties in the acceptable Princeton tradition of cold gin-and-tonic with hot hors d’oeuvres, though a central location perhaps robs a degree of privacy from the large room.
Down campus is Butler, the dark horse of the large-room contenders, whose tucked-away eight-and seven-person suites have rarely seen their vast potential realized. One exception is the newly christened Penthouse (231 1940 Hall), which boasts all the amenities for the discerning Princetonian: DVD, big-screen TV, surround sound, 300-disc CD player, and full-size bar. The waffled ceilings and brick walls of the Butler dorms in general, though, are certainly strikes against them that have yet to be artfully manipulated for positive use. But the almost pub-like atmosphere created by these features in some of the larger, corner suites can make them perfect for moderately sized gatherings liberally attended by dark beer.
Away and toward the Wawa, Forbes College is devoid of larger rooms, although the doubles in the new wing, with their own bathrooms and impressive size, almost make the comfort of living there with the walk. Moreover, the twists, turns and secret exits to golf-course patios of the Addition make it another great location for spring barbecues, though in the winter the dwellers of the Annex are thankful for friends up campus. All Forbes offers that resembles a multi-person room is 99 Alexander Street, aptly nicknamed the Pink House, which actually consists of a triple, a single, and two doubles plus a spacious living room. Traditionally, heavy proctor attention has relegated the Pink House to cocktail party status, but the women (as college housing authorities have prohibited male application for 99 Alexander) have in the past been able to entertain quite successfully.
Up University Place from Forbes, the gothic dorms of Rocky and Mathey, in contrast, are able to offer many large rooms, due to a series of renovations over the years and their initially oddly shaped spaces. The corner suites in Witherspoon, especially those on the higher levels, have huge common rooms that offer expansive views of campus to make up for the exhaustive climb. With bedrooms roughly the size of closets, though, studying in the common rooms or hallways is not uncommon. Another plus for Rocky is the new, and now coed, East Blair. Once known as the monastery for its all-male designation, Rocky’s side will include three new, two-floor quads, which should move in room draw with a speed similar to Wilson’s Clapp quads.
Another great location in Rocky is Holder Hall, where, in addition to the famed courtyard, room draw may place students into a large number of decently sized quads. The quads in the second-entryway tower each exceed 600 square feet, and the third-floor quads, despite their sloping ceiling, are among the best underclass rooms on campus and possess a historical feeling of Princeton housing in its nascent days.
In a normal year the greatest advantage of living in Mathey is the courtyard, which now resembles an auction for cheap metal due to the gutting of Blair. Upon its completion next year, Blair Hall will likely become the most desired housing in the residential college. The hallways on the second and third floors will add common space — the main reason for the renovation — much needed for a college whose entryway system makes it common for students not to know who lives on the other side of their wall. The plans for Blair include many large quads, helped by the conversion of the third-floor rooms that were previously doubles. Unfortunately, Mathey’s crown jewel, the eight-person monster T7 Blair, has been re-designated as office space. Blair’s undergraduate replacement this year, Little Hall, boasts a few large, five- and six-person rooms with comfortable common areas, though as of now it is unknown what will happen when Little goes under the knife later this year.
The large, multi-person room is more common in the residential colleges, though the upperclassmen have available many options perhaps more sophisticated, if less social. Often considered the most popular of the upperclassmen dorms, Brown Hall is noted both for its preponderance of 500-square-foot quads and the enclosed courtyard, easily blocked off during a heavy snowfall if so desired. The refurbished Patton Hall rooms boast several large five- and six-person rooms, including the king of the upperclassmen dorms, the six-person megalith T12 weighing in at 1278 square feet. 1903 and Cuyler also have some large rooms, the latter with two quads of over 600 square feet as well as a large six-person suite.
For those who choose the junior slums, the choices wane in size, but for a few giant exceptions. Laughlin, and 1901 each prize a few rooms, but the real highlights of the slums are in Foulke tower and Pyne. While the former rooms all top 600 square feet, Pyne boasts a 750- and an 800-square-footer.
The most consistently large rooms for upperclassmen lie farther down campus. Though rather isolated, Scully has several quads of 755 square feet and several more at 500. Furthermore, the amenities of a two-year-old dorm, such as air conditioning, will attract interest to Scully this room draw. For the independent student, the I.M. Pei-designed Spelman, though considered by some architecturally distasteful, holds 930-square-foot quads, complete with private bathrooms, kitchens, and spacious common rooms, though the large windows beckon the voyeur. As the closest thing to city life that the Princeton campus offers — it is essentially an apartment complex — Spelman provides a unique experience for those who choose to live there.
With a generous selection of more than reasonable rooms offered at Princeton, from the comfortable double or quad to the open spaces of a larger suite, room draw, with a little luck, need not be a time of anxiety.
