Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith to find your pot of gold. And Laura Frerer-Schmidt has never been afraid of heights.
As the publisher of Women’s Health, the petite blonde with a mile-a-minute mouth (and an only slightly slower marathon time) has taken a niche magazine and elevated it to the mainstream, participating in some 24 launches worldwide and increasing advertising revenue in the United States by 37 percent this year alone. Professionally, she likes to chase the competition. Personally, she loves to chase the dream.
And so it was that, five years ago, the wife and then-mother of two children under 2 found herself in Dumbo, touring a raw space that had never been converted to a residence. Like so many good deals, this one came from a phone conversation Frerer- Schmidt had overheard between a friend and her husband and, with their blessing, she made the trek over the bridge to Brooklyn. What she found was alarming: Century-old heat blowers hung from the 14-foot ceilings. Floorboards of the 6,000-square-foot one-time box-stamping warehouse undulated like rolling hills. The remnants of a squatter, who had illegally tapped into the gas line to create a makeshift kitchen and into the water main for something that in a bygone era could pass as a bathroom, were suffocating in dust. It was love at first sight. “There was a warmth to the space,” she says now of the 5th-floor white box, whose walls of picture windows frame historic buildings and European-style streetscapes. “Even the air felt right.” Frerer-Schmidt and her husband, Brian, made an offer that night.
Converting a commercial space in Chelsea before she was married had emboldened Frerer-Schmidt; she knew there would be obstacles, but nothing she couldn’t overcome — until bureaucracy majorly muddled her plans. “I’m not going to lie, getting our C of O was difficult,” she says, tucked into one of the few furnishings in her spare great room, where reclaimed Carlisle wood covers the floors and a swing occupies prime real estate.
The couple spent a year and a half renovating, without an architect, and wasted many tens of thousands on expeditors in failed attempts to fix misfiled paperwork at the Department of Buildings.
According to city records, there was an elevator in the middle of their apartment. A Red Cross facility once stationed in their building during a 1950s storm meant their kitchen and bathroom must be held to hospital standards. Inspectors came more than a dozen times. It was like being in a Sartre novel. Eventually, Frerer-Schmidt took a few weeks off work and literally hung around the DoB to get all her checkmarks. “I was a fixture there,” she says with a breezy, infectious laugh. “I made friends and showed pictures of my kids and listened to people’s problems and shared mine. And, ultimately, they took pity on me.” On the day the family was meant to vacate their temporary housing — rendering them homeless — Frerer-Schmidt got the Certificate of Occupancy. “You bring a little warmth, a little humanity, and it’s surprising what you can get done,” she says.
There were, of course, other hiccups, but somehow fortune always shined upon the pair. The couple had split the apartment in two, hoping to sell off the other 3,300-square-foot residence. But this was during the recession, and there were no takers. Frerer-Schmidt was forced to rent it out; on day one the president of West Elm, based in Dumbo, signed a lease. He eventually did buy the apartment, and has become a great friend. Then there was that fire upstairs, which flooded their 2,600-square-foot apartment and warped the sheetrock delineating the three bedrooms and staining the exposed beams and Bilotta kitchen. The family moved out for three months during repairs.
But all that is behind them. Now the Scandinavian-inspired space is a cheery home where children’s artwork covers the walls and glass French doors lead from bedrooms to hallway. The open-plan kitchen has two teak bars on casters from ABC Carpet & Home that serve as an island — or a cocktail station during parties. And parties here are plenty. Aside from daily playdates and bi-weekly multi-family gatherings — where the kids “pile up in a pit on the living room rug” — Frerer-Schmidt goes all out for her children’s birthdays, filling the ceiling with 500 balloons and dousing the apartment in Peter Pan or fairy themes. The always-on-the-go mom and publisher is also the host of the annual Run 10 Feed 10 charity event, sponsored by her team at Women’s Health. This fall, the dinner to thank partners and participants of the 10K — which takes place in three cities across the country and feeds 10 kids for every single person who runs — included a sit-down dinner for 70 in Frerer-Schimdt’s loft. “It just worked,” she says of the event, to which Lauren Bush and designer Rebecca Minkoff were guests. “It really makes me feel like this was an investment worth making when we have those kinds of parties.”
Her husband sometimes still needs convincing, so when she walks beneath the Nelson lamps that line the hallway or eats at her wooden dining table with her family, she often comments on the pleasantness of her surroundings. “A renovation can stretch you to your limits, and it was hard,” she admits. “But since we’ve been done…I’ve made an effort to say out loud, ‘Aren’t you having a great time roller-skating on the wood floors?’ ”
Even in moments of solitude, she finds herself saying, sometimes vocally, how happy she is here. “I can’t ever imagine moving,” she says with a complacent sigh. Then she offers some advice: “This is how you win in the real estate market: You walk in and see something that looks awful and scary, and you buy it!” All you need is a little vision, and a lot of patience.
Frerer-Schmidt is testing that theory — and her ability to suspend disbelief — once again, with her next project, which is already in the works: a pre-fab house set on a two-acre lot in Montauk. Everything was sourced online and will arrive in a box to the waterfront land the couple bought in January. Naturally, there have been many delays, a handful of horror stories, some snafus. The home won’t be ready for summer. But Laura Frerer-Schmidt is, as usual, optimistic. Somehow, her real estate projects have always been worth the effort. “I’m just hoping Brian will feel the same way about Montauk.”
Heidi Mitchell contributes to Vogue, Lucky and Architectural Digest.