Gilded Age New York City was a frenetic place, especially when it came to the speculative real estate market. Competition among developers to offload already-built houses was stiff, so every new residence had to boast a standout selling point.

The 10 row houses completed in 1895 on St. Nicholas Avenue between 148th and 149th Streets counted several unique amenities.

First was location. The graceful houses stood on the west side of this broad former country lane in newly urbanized Harlem—where elevated trains could take people to jobs and shopping downtown in under an hour and then whisk them back to this still-spacious part of the city.

The bow fronts on the inner eight houses were also distinctive. These four-story projections offered more light and space than a typical rectangular brownstone. Plus, the curve of each bow and adjoining cornice created a pleasing sense of motion and harmony.

But these row houses had one especially unusual feature. Each included a boudoir—in this case an octagonal dressing room with floor-to-ceiling plate glass mirrors.

These boudoirs were attached to the primary bedroom and adjoining bathroom. They were meant to be sanctuary spaces where a woman could change outfits, style her hair, or simply savor her privacy.

In an article about the construction of the “boudoir houses” (as builder William Broadbelt called them), an 1894 edition of the Real Estate Record & Builders Guide explained that the homes “are to contain several novel features, and will be built on what is known as the boudoir plan.”

After the boudoir houses were built, the Record and Guide wrote an approving story, calling out the “‘crystal chamber,’ by which ‘the charms of the occupants will be many times repeated,’” according to Christopher Gray in a 2012 New York Times Streetscapes column.

A luxurious boudoir may not have been a typical feature in most homes. But it would have been obligatory in a Gilded Age mansion or posh brownstone. This feminine sanctuary could include her bed, a fireplace, sofas for socializing with friends, and a desk for writing letters.

A section of the room would contain a space where a woman could attend to her toilette or change out of her constricting corset and undergarments (like the woman in the photo above) and into something more cozy, like a tea gown—a shapeless loungewear garment worn only at home.

The boudoir houses sported other features. “The ground floor on each of the end houses had a billiard room and a footman’s station; the entertaining rooms were on the floor above,” wrote Gray.

“The houses were finished in ash, quartered oak, hazel, mahogany, and cherry. Buyers were provided with two furnaces and even gas logs, for use ‘in emergencies when quick heating is required,’” continued Gray, quoting the Record and Guide. (Below photo, the houses in 1895)

“In the rear the developer replaced the usual board fences with wrought iron to carry climbing plants. Narrow slats ensured that there were ‘no places for the feline disturbers of the night.’”

It’s no surprise that Broadbelt was able to sell these boudoir beauties. But demographic shifts were coming to Harlem in the early 20th century, and the houses soon changed hands.

“The population changed in the 1920s, as African-Americans and other blacks moved to Harlem and Hamilton Heights,” wrote Gray. “The 1930 census shows the row approximately one-third black, including Charles N. Ford, a dentist from Trinidad who arrived in 1919, and had a laundress and a chauffeur living in. The census valued his house as $45,000.”

Ground floor parlors were converted to stores in the 1940s, including a famous beauty parlor and an iconic chicken restaurant frequented by a young Malcolm X, who reportedly lived in the building, Number 763, according to Harlem Bespoke.

The row houses were altered over the decades as row houses typically are, with stoops removed and facades painted in various colors. In 2018, a fire tore through Number 773, during which firefighter Michael R. Davidson lost his life. A solemn plaque, flag, and cross on the site mark his heroism.

Today the row, with one house missing, stands amid a stretch of Harlem packed with lovely prewar row houses of all different styles. Do the boudoirs still exist, or have they been converted into closets or home offices?

I’d say it’s not likely. As our life needs change, the rooms in our houses change as well.

[Fourth image: Shutterstock; fifth image: Office for Metropolitan History via New York Times]