Summary:
- Years of frustration with an outdated, impractical kitchen finally pushed homeowner Kim Lee to renovate, transforming a space once designed for her late parents into one that fits her current life and needs.
- The renovation journey became deeply emotional, involving letting go of memories tied to her parents while discovering support from friends, her tenant, and a dedicated designer who reimagined her 50-year-old flat.
- The result is not just a refreshed home but a renewed sense of belonging and gratitude – a space that now reflects her present self and invites warmth, comfort, and connection.
The kitchen cabinet door came off in my hand. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but this was the last straw. I had resisted a kitchen renovation for years – but enough is enough.
The current kitchen had been built in two phases: the first was 35 years ago during an upgrading, and the second, 5 years after that. Back then, I didn’t cook.
I had vague notions of what a kitchen should be like, and it was designed with my parents in mind.
Over time, I learned to cook – for them as well as for myself. Mom and dad are gone now, but I continued to wrestle with that kitchen until this year.
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A kitchen frozen in time
Some panels were ripped out years ago when HDB changed the main pipes. Then came the upgrading which improved the toilet and bathroom, as well as added some space.
It was wonderful to finally be able to move the refrigerator into the kitchen – but the new tiles didn’t match the original mosaic floor, and the old laminate had started to peel away. I glued what I could. Masking tape held the rest together.
Credit: Kim Lee
The designer back then had placed the vanity in a little cul-de-sac, which meant the washing machine had to sit in the kitchen, between the bathroom and the toilet. It was convenient to reach the laundry poles overhead, but impractical in every other way.
To run the washer, we had to connect it to the bathroom tap and disconnect it each time. During that time, the bathroom was off-limits – or the laundry had to be paused if someone needed to shower. I don’t know why we put up with that for decades.
And the hob – one of the gas burners failed 30 years ago, but since we hardly cooked then, it didn’t matter. When the sink began to rust, a contractor warned that removing to replace it might cause the cabinet to collapse. So we lived with it. Suffice to say, it wasn’t a joy to walk into the kitchen.
After mom and dad passed, I took on a tenant – a lovely one who never complained. Still, kitchen workflow remained a nightmare.
Two people in the kitchen meant constant sidestepping. The refrigerator was too small, counter space was scarce, and the lighting was poor.
The kitchen was also hot – I couldn’t install a ceiling fan, so I shoehorned in a tower fan, angled carefully so the breeze wouldn’t snuff out the gas flames.
Credit: Kim Lee
Even walking to the toilet meant threading through laundry lines that still hung in front of it.
Every visit was a reminder that the kitchen – and I – were stuck in an old life. Then that cabinet door came off in my hand. And with it, my resistance.
I had been toying with the idea of downsizing. But the two-room flexi units I viewed felt claustrophobic. I’ve lived in this apartment since I was 11.
I love its light and its space –even if the doorframes aren’t perfectly square, the walls are uneven, and the bathroom is poky. I love the memories woven into its rooms, the neighbours I still greet, and the way the neighbourhood has blossomed.
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Deciding to undergo a kitchen renovation
After a year of living alone, I realised I liked having company, so I rented out a room. The apartment still worked – it just needed to evolve. And that loose cabinet door spurred me to stay and make it better. After all, hasn’t it been said that the grass is greener where it’s watered?
Once I committed, I began searching for a designer to help transform my kitchen, and part of the living room.
Recommendations came in; I browsed ideas online. My social media feeds were flooded with renovation ads – “Visit our showroom.” “Send us your floor plan and we’ll send you a quotation.” But how could anyone quote without understanding what I wanted?
Then came Eugene from TwoThree ID. He refused to give me any numbers until he had seen the space and understood my goals. I was sold on him even before he walked through the door.
As with all things these days, a WhatsApp group was created. Eugene named it “Kim’s Dream Home” – it made me smile.
Credit: Kim Lee
When I first saw his drawings, I didn’t even recognise my apartment. It was the same footprint, but a whole new feel and flow. The transformation began to feel real.
A start date was set. I began clearing out the kitchen – a journey more emotional than expected. What do I keep? What do I throw away? I found myself weighing not just objects but memories.
I kept a few of my mother’s cookbooks, a gift from my partner almost 40 years ago, and some of my father’s tools. The hardest things to let go were the things my parents loved and held on to till the end.
For six weeks, I lived in a surreal domestic campsite surrounded by boxes. There was no kitchen sink and no vanity basin for most of that time. Cooking was uncomfortable. I gave up and ate out.
I’ve spent six weeks under canvas in the jungle before. I told myself this was a camp with benefits: no bugs, no rain, no mud – and this time I had running water, electricity, and even Wi-Fi!
My tenant was wonderfully understanding. I timed the works around her two-week vacation so she could miss the worst of it. Friends stepped in too.
One offered to lend me things to survive the temporary chaos and a place to stay; another gathered boxes for packing. I was touched and grateful. I wasn’t that alone after all.
Coming home to a new space
Credit: Kim Lee
Finally, the protective plastic wraps came off the new floor and front door. After weeks of dust, noise, and detours, I could breathe again. People had warned me about renovation delays, but considering the amount of work done on a 50-year-old apartment, there wasn’t significant time setbacks, or cost overrun. Eugene was like a terrier who wouldn’t let go of its ball.
Credit: Kim Lee
Sure, there were a few tense moments when things didn’t come off right the first time, but they were all fixable, and done in good time – and with good grace. I’ve spent three months since rediscovering my renewed spaces – and loving every bit of it.
Oddly enough, my home seems to attract visitors now. Two weeks after completion, a group of my walking friends came by.
They loved what they saw. A few even asked for Eugene’s contact. Family and friends who’ve seen it all emphatically say, “Don’t sell!”
The apartment, like my life, has evolved. A journey that started with reluctance became an exercise in gratitude – for loved ones, for memories, for space, for friends, for continuity.
My renewed home feels brighter, calmer. It flows better. The kitchen now embraces, instead of resists. Now, standing in it, I feel welcomed, like I have come home – not just to this apartment, but to myself.
