BySamantha Weiss-Hills,PhotographyBelle Morizio,Art Direction byLinda Denahan,Styling byNaomi DeMañana
PublishedFeb 24, 2026 7:59 AM EST
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Living in New York City asks a great deal of the body—trudging through snow to the nearest subway, hauling thirty pounds of groceries down the sidewalk as though they were kettlebells, climbing five flights of stairs just to visit a friend or reach your own front door.
Five flights is no small commitment—a glute workout twice over just to step out the door. Yet when editor, culinary consultant, and woman-about-town Christine Muhlke found herself contemplating a 900-square-foot apartment on the top floor of a circa-1898 building in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood, every hesitation dissolved. It was 2023; she had just returned to the city after a Covid-era sojourn upstate, and her temporary sublet in a neighboring building was about to expire.
True, the space was unlivable: floors destroyed, ceilings compressed, decades of grime layered throughout. Nothing appeared to have been updated in the many years the previous tenant had been there, and the rooms had become a quiet repository for accumulated belongings—the super confided to Muhlke that it took six months simply to move his personal effects out.
But Muhlke could see past the grime. “I always say in real estate that if I can feel every hair on my head stand up, or I feel like I’ve mainlined espresso, that’s my spot,” she adds. This apartment delivered both sensations at once. And the price was right.
Among the friends she invited over for the customary “Am I crazy?” walkthroughs was designer Lithe Sebesta, an old confidante trusted to deliver a no-nonsense assessment. Sebesta—whom Muhlke credits with “the spatial equivalent of perfect timing”—saw the potential instantly. So Muhlke made her move, negotiating the purchase price with the building owner. After closing, it took until 2024 for the board to approve the plans she’d developed with Sebesta and an interior architect. To nudge things forward, she bribed the then-board president with custom-curated travel guides, one of her signature specialties.
Ultimately, that added time “was really important because it allowed us to refine what we wanted,” Muhlke recalls. “The main objective was a clean envelope with nice materials. We were able to add quiet details. My goal for this apartment was a calm atmosphere, because the city is so crazy. I wanted a place with light, and for my son Max to have a real bedroom.”
Sebesta’s gift lies in her ability to quietly synthesize past and present. With Muhlke’s apartment she had to begin nearly from scratch, which allowed her to introduce elements that would serve the owner better—and read as though they had always been there. She added new touches that felt original, with a contemporary edge, alongside serious storage; Christmas ornaments, seasonal clothes, and suitcases were not going to stash themselves.
The duo received an unexpected gift while installing the new flooring. Sebesta called Muhlke to share that they were working with 1,100 square feet, not the 900 the listing had promised. “It was one of those dreams of opening the medicine cabinet to find another apartment on the other side,” she jokes. In turn, they needed additional flooring—no small expense, given that the apartment was clad in engineered white oak. Overhead, they punched through the ceiling to reclaim another foot and a half of height. Then they elected to divide one of the rooms into a bedroom for Max and a private workspace for Muhlke.
When Muhlke welcomed me for afternoon tea recently, I marveled at how the apartment unfolded naturally as I moved through it. A tiled entry gives way immediately to the serene kitchen, clad in Muller Van Severen– and Inge Sempé–designed cabinetry that houses Muhlke’s extensive collection of ceramics and cookware. As someone who writes cookbooks, runs a culinary consultancy, and helped the iconic kitchenware brand Dansk catalogue their archive, it is no surprise that this is where she spends most of her time. The Dekton countertops are, she notes, indestructible—allowing Max to experiment with his own budding recipe development without fear of stains—and the wall-mounted pot filler delivers just the right measure of luxury. In the evenings, she prepares dinner while her son does his homework or friends gather at the banquette nearby. (If she could do it over, she’d make room for a wine fridge.)
In a previous life, this single unit had been two. Floor-to-ceiling cookbook shelving now lines the wall between the kitchen and dining area, where the corridor once connected the two original apartments. Above the dining table, Sebesta dropped the ceiling just so and reoriented the flooring in a different direction to signal the transition. In place of ornate, Parisian-style adornment, she added handsome stepped molding and window trim, then carried the same detailing through to the baseboards throughout.
The bedrooms branch off from here. Muhlke likens hers to a cozy hotel room, thanks to the custom oversized headboard upholstered in Chiarastella Cattana fabric, a dressing area that also houses her washer and dryer, and an en suite bathroom. In the sizable, sophisticated living room, the walls are lined with custom millwork by Summerfield Fabrication and art she has gathered over the years; a grand window with elegantly shaped panes looks out over the city, with a sliver of the Empire State Building in sight. “I’m just setting up all these little conversations around the apartment,” she says. Around the corner sits her office, outfitted with additional shelving, a custom daybed so the room can double as guest quarters, and a beloved vintage Georg Jensen desk inherited from a mentor—her fairy godmother, as she calls her.
“What endures are the things that are really personal,” Muhlke says, gesturing to her father’s 1974 Bang & Olufsen receiver, a set of Agnes Martin prints, a vase from Bilbao, wood nesting bowls from Japan. “Everything is here because I love it. I would rather have fewer things, and have them be very important.”
Settling in after the years-long renovation took no time at all—the apartment felt like home in an instant. Muhlke will stay as long as she can, but knows she will eventually require something new. “This is not my forever apartment, because I’m not going to be able to go up and down the stairs forever,” she admits. “But I wanted to do it in a way that I was going to be happy with forever.”
Samantha Weiss-Hills is the managing editor for Domino. She edits and writes home tours and features, and she’s the friend who everyone texts for glassware, sofa, and sheet recommendations. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband, Alex, and their beagle-corgi, Elsa.
Belle is the in-house photographer and associate photo editor for Domino, capturing everything from home tours to gift guides, plus the occasional how-to project. She joined the photo team as an intern in 2018 and was brought on full time in January 2021.
Naomi deMañana is a freelance stylist and editor who has worked in the publishing industry for the past 15 years.
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