Just when you thought we couldn’t go any smaller, we’ve gone and greased up your sides so we can shove you into the realm of the very tiniest of tiny spaces: playhouses and nooks. By this we mean clubhouses, forts, hideouts, and any related supersmall spaces. When you think about it, these little lairs are in many ways fledgling versions of tiny houses, and as whimsical and micro as they may be, one shouldn’t be too hasty to write them off as pointless and childish. In both design and decor, there is quite a bit that can be learned and gleaned from these petite places, even when they are built by kids themselves.
J oel Henriques, a talented artist, blogger, and father of two, lives in the realm of the ultracolorful. Joel also seems to have a penchant for modern design, and it shows in this clubhouse that he drafted and built.
Sitting atop a single sheet of plywood, framed with mere 2x2s, this very simple and straightforward fort is enhanced by the use of bold orange, its lack of clutter, and the well-chosen pendant lamp as the focal piece of the room. If you’re going to keep things sparse and minimal you should make your few decor and furniture items count, and Joel clearly knows this. The chalkboard-paint walls (dual functionality at work), electricity (provided by a simple extension cord), and the rather nice homemade Plexiglas windows all show that Joel put some thought into this little playhouse, but at the same time knew to not overthink it.
The Li’l Orange Playhouse is a tiny little space, but inviting with its colors — a palette that might brighten up the rain-heavy region the designer lives in. This thing would be amazing perched in a tree with a little deck, not that it’s at all shabby in its ground-bound form. (I keep mentioning the tree house–conversion potential of many of these structures, but that’s only because with microstructures it’s such a simple transition.) Either way, forget the kids; I’d like to spend a night in this thing, or maybe build one just a little larger and plop it deep in the woods, streamside, lit by lanterns, and accessible only by a long, meandering, scenic trail.
A shelter (or pod, as I like to call it) on wheels that’s small enough to squeeze through most any household door? Why not? If artist Piet Mondrian commissioned a microshack — a simple indoor kid fort or adult reading escape — this might be it. It’s simple but modern, it’s budget-friendly, and it takes in a heck of a lot of natural light. After all, it’s a space designed for hiding out and reading. The clear front wall showcases a spontaneous array of stud framing while also providing a glimpse of some custom mural artwork (spray paint and thick Sharpie markers) on the back wall.
This little project came together via a kind of spree I like to call Operation Use It Up: I grab whatever leftover wood and roofing pieces I have and put them to work with a mix of new materials to round things out. At only 34 inches wide and 6 feet long, the Book Nook is extremely tiny but still big enough to contain most adults and serve as an indoor or outdoor getaway.
The stud work of the front wall provides an attachment surface for the see-through Tuftex paneling, and the wider horizontal pieces, 2x4s, also double as shelving. Whatever is displayed on these mini shelves also makes interesting silhouettes when the Book Nook is lighted from within. The 10-inch-wide tongue-and-groove planks I used for siding worked well too. These boards are sturdy and make for quick coverage over any structure’s frame.
M orten Nisker e-mailed me with these photos as a thank-you for the inspiration from my blog, and I was taken with the overall fun vibe of this little play shack. It is, more or less, a deck-top shed in micro form, with a clean little table inside, some minimal yet effective wall decor and storage, and a few windows. Nothing more. Yet somehow it works. Again, there’s something to be said for simplicity.
I might have painted the Nisker Nook’s back wall a golf-grass green, except for the stud work, but even without painting the inside, Morten has succeeded in creating a light, spacious atmosphere in only 16 square feet. I love the little picnic-style bench as well. The beauty of such simply shaped and sized shacks (say that 10 times fast!) is that later, when the kids outgrow them, they can be used as tiny sheds for deck storage. I’m a big fan of structures with more than one potential use, or with the possibility of future “transformative” uses.
T ruth be told, I was never a huge fan of the Little Blue Bump microcabin, but its video is among my most popular, and the cabin has been rebuilt by others around the globe more than any other design of mine. This is probably due to how easy, cheap, and quick a “wooden tent” like this is to build.
Basically, the floor is one thick piece of plywood raised a bit off the ground, and its two ends are made from similar stock, only rounded off with a jigsaw. Add in some recycled-junk windows, a clear polycarbonate roof, and you start to see the old Deek-design pattern here: build less, with less, for less, in less time . . . and make sure it gets a lot of natural light. The cabin later sold and has been relocated, but video viewers continue to build their own, and I can’t say that this bums me out at all.
I like the Little Blue Bump’s little cantilevered window. It bumps out one part of the cabin almost a whole foot, serves as a shelf, and adds some aesthetic variety to an otherwise boring cabin wall. Also, the flooring is just cheap, lauan paneling, which worked far better than I could have imagined!
T welve square feet, Deek? You must not be firing on all cylinders! You’re inhaling too much of that particleboard sawdust! The birth of this box began with just that: a box. When my neighbor, wild man Paul LaCivita, brought me an enormous, overbuilt shipping crate he had found (it took two of us to move it), I immediately envisioned an unassuming little cube sitting in a field or any other scenic locale in which an occupant could curl up, perhaps with a good book, and just relax. Rocket science? No. Spacious? Definitely not. Fun? I certainly think so . . . But then again, I probably do have a bit of sawdust on the brain.
Yes, it’s just a box, but the Crate Escape makes for an unusual, intimate space with a great deal of natural light because of the translucent front wall. This wall swings open, and for airflow in warmer weather, a simple, rolled-up drop-screen could be installed. The cantilevered window box makes this cube feel a hair bigger than it is and also serves as shelf space. Both the back wall and the floor are clad in antique, freebie tongue-and-groove lumber from the same lot that supplied flooring for the Bread Box. The rear wall, I might add, is cedar, making this little book box smell great. As for the tiny “peek window,” it’s the lid to an IKEA storage container — a window with trim, all in one piece, for about $3.99. I’ve used these lids countless times in kid forts and sheds. I just use a jigsaw to cut an opening in the wall that’s slightly smaller than the container, then sand the wood edges. I drill two pilot holes in the frame of the container to avoid splitting it. Once attached, I seal around the perimeter with silicone caulk.
