But she missed the capital. “I’m a Londoner through and through,” says Katharine, 40. “Coming back was a matter of when, not if.” This spring Katharine got a new job and started making moves to return. But any hopes of a triumphant homecoming were quickly dashed. She soon discovered that the amount she had budgeted for a one-bedroom flat outside the city center brought her far less than it had 12 months earlier – if it had brought her anything at all. The cheapest properties she could find cost more than £1,000 a month, around £150 above her price range. Those listed for less were cut, regardless of quality. Several times Catherine made the five-hour round trip from Stratford to London for viewings, only to find the flat had already been let – or hotly contested. “There were literally lines outside,” he says. After three months she realized she couldn’t afford to wait for an apartment she liked. he would have to chase whatever he could afford. “I was desperate,” she says. Renters are used to having to make trade-offs between what’s available and what’s affordable, what works for now and what to aspire to. This summer, however, tenants looking for a new home are finding it increasingly difficult. A housing shortage and rising demand have driven prices up – and not just in London. The Office for National Statistics reports that rents rose by 3.2% across the UK last year, the fastest pace since the financial crisis. Illustration: Alexander Naughton/The Guardian Dan Wilson Craw, deputy director of Generation Rent, says this summer’s squeeze reflects the pressures on housing through the pandemic. “It’s really shocking to see how it still resonates.” Young people who have returned with their parents in the last two years are now looking for places of their own. Many of those who left the cities to work remotely now want to return as employers ask them to return to offices. There has also been increased demand – from those who can afford it – for more space. “People who work from home, even occasionally, are looking for one more bedroom than they would have in the past, which has created more competition,” says Wilson Craw. Meanwhile, the number of homes for rent has shrunk drastically. Trade body Propertymark found that availability has halved since 2019, largely due to a mass exodus of private landlords. An unusually high number sold due to factors such as high house prices, legislative reforms to protect tenants and improve conditions (disincentives for unscrupulous operators) and what has been described as “the great revaluation”, with many people rethinking their lives after the pandemic. Lucrative vacation rentals also reduce the availability of long-term rental properties. The result is more people fighting for fewer rooms – even in places where supply had previously met demand. A recent analysis by property market consultancy Dataloft found that affordability has plummeted in towns including Rotherham, Bolton, Salford, Walsall and Dudley since the pandemic. Across the UK, it has become common for prospective tenants to be asked how much rent they are willing to pay, with the property going to the highest bidder – sometimes up to £300 above the asking price. These affordable properties are snapped up invisibly, often within minutes of being listed online. Black mold, often found in poorly maintained properties. Photo: Andrei310/Getty Images/iStockphoto Imo and a friend, both 25, started hunting for a two-bedroom flat in north and east London in June. They made 20 odd searches, but were fast enough to see only five. “New positions would have been lost by the end of the day, making viewings almost impossible,” says Imo – and each of their three bids was easily outbid by others. They were eventually offered a flat in Newham, east London, which was not yet on the market. Listed as furnished but came without beds. It was available a month later than they needed, had a washer full of mold and “hadn’t been cleaned in a month,” says Imo. The estate agent told them they could take it as it came or find somewhere else. They got it. “It made me very wary of moving again,” says Imo. “Agents and landlords are treating this as a game, without considering how it affects tenants.” Some might say that renting in London has been a challenge for years, but a sharp decline in supply – dating back to at least last summer – has exacerbated the problem. New figures from estate agent Chestertons show the number of homes available to rent in the capital fell by 38% in the year to July. “It’s a total disaster in London at the moment,” says John Myers, co-founder of London Yimby (which stands for Yes in My Backyard), advocating for affordable housing. “Rents have skyrocketed, people just can’t find something they can afford … There’s a real crisis.” On social media, listings are circulating with alarming regularity about studios where the shower is next to the kitchen sink or lofts with ceilings so low you can’t sit up in bed. Although the photos are darkly comical, the real price is the asking price – often, in London, well over £1,500 a month – and the knowledge that someone will surely pay it. “It’s a classic kind of lack of economy,” Myers says. “There are some good quality apartments out there, but they cost the earth and are out of reach for anyone on a normal salary.” Even those with good salaries find it difficult. “It’s hell,” says Julia, 22. She and her partner, 23, planned to move from Cambridge to London this month and have a combined annual income of around £132,000. They don’t want to spend more than £2,500 a month on rent as they hope to buy a house one day. But even that budget no longer extends to a double in zone two. “Prices just went up so much,” says Julia. “We’re objectively in a very fortunate position, but we’re still struggling to find somewhere within the budget.” In the past, “you were able to compromise” on available properties, he says. now, almost nothing is possible. She was shocked to discover that the small three-bedroom flat she rented with friends in Maida Vale in 2020, which “smelled of a mouse”, has been reduced from £2,250 a month to £3,400 in just two years. With their relocation waiting for only one place to stay, the search has taken its toll on Julia. “It’s not good for your stress to be checking your phone 20 times a day whenever a property comes up and deciding if you like it,” she says. Photo: designer491/Alamy Londoners’ complaints about renting were met with wider indifference to the cost of living in the big city. But now, remarkably, the problem is spreading rapidly across the country. Figures from property website Rightmove show that market rents across the UK rose by almost 12% between the second quarter of 2021 and the same period this year – equivalent to an extra £119 a month on average, or 1,428 £ per annum. Those who had already left the cities in search of affordable housing may now feel as though the crisis has caught up with them. Fi left London for Essex four years ago, partly because she has a disability and is unable to work full-time. Earlier this year, she and her partner Paul, both 33, decided to look for a place to rent together in his native Suffolk. They soon realized they would have to act fast. “The amount of people trying to get to each place was just crazy,” says Fi. The day he ended up in the hospital for surgery, the couple had booked two screenings. Fi told Paul to go ahead without her. “I said, ‘We have no choice. We need somewhere to live.” A house was more or less ideal. Pavlos said that if he was interested he would have to apply on the spot. “It’s a case of fastest finger first – that’s how I filled in the applications from my hospital bed,” says Fi. “It’s just the kind of rental market madness they couldn’t wait for.” Their application was supposed to be successful but, with two weeks to go until their move-in date, they weren’t asked to pay a down payment or sign a lease. Fi is still worried that he might fall. In the meantime, she and Paul share a room at his parents’ house and sleep in single beds. “We stress about it all the time,” says Fi. “We’re supposed to be moving in two weeks and we still don’t know if we have the place and what’s going to happen or if we’re going to have to start from square one again.” In such an overheated market, landlords can dictate their terms, such as asking for financial records to be included with applications or six or even 12 months’ rent being paid in advance. Almost 20% of LGBTQ+ private renters said they felt discriminated against Tenants for new leases are selected based on uncertain, potentially discriminatory criteria. Katharine feared that her surname, of Slavic origin, would put her at a disadvantage against the competition. “Anyone with a name that’s not Anglo-Saxon is going to get a bit paranoid, especially with Brexit,” he says. The One Generation Rent survey found that 19% of LGBTQ+ private renters said they felt discriminated against based on their gender identity or sexual orientation. Lucy, 27, researched houses and ‘shared houses’ to move to London from Manchester, without success. He ended up paying for a studio in Stockwell, south London. “I am…
title: " It S A Total Disaster How Soaring Rents Tough Competition And Unscrupulous Landlords Are Breaking Renters Property Rental Klmat" ShowToc: true date: “2022-12-16” author: “Laura Moher”
But she missed the capital. “I’m a Londoner through and through,” says Katharine, 40. “Coming back was a matter of when, not if.” This spring Katharine got a new job and started making moves to return. But any hopes of a triumphant homecoming were quickly dashed. She soon discovered that the amount she had budgeted for a one-bedroom flat outside the city center brought her far less than it had 12 months earlier – if it had brought her anything at all. The cheapest properties she could find cost more than £1,000 a month, around £150 above her price range. Those listed for less were cut, regardless of quality. Several times Catherine made the five-hour round trip from Stratford to London for viewings, only to find the flat had already been let – or hotly contested. “There were literally lines outside,” he says. After three months she realized she couldn’t afford to wait for an apartment she liked. he would have to chase whatever he could afford. “I was desperate,” she says. Renters are used to having to make trade-offs between what’s available and what’s affordable, what works for now and what to aspire to. This summer, however, tenants looking for a new home are finding it increasingly difficult. A housing shortage and rising demand have driven prices up – and not just in London. The Office for National Statistics reports that rents rose by 3.2% across the UK last year, the fastest pace since the financial crisis. Illustration: Alexander Naughton/The Guardian Dan Wilson Craw, deputy director of Generation Rent, says this summer’s squeeze reflects the pressures on housing through the pandemic. “It’s really shocking to see how it still resonates.” Young people who have returned with their parents in the last two years are now looking for places of their own. Many of those who left the cities to work remotely now want to return as employers ask them to return to offices. There has also been increased demand – from those who can afford it – for more space. “People who work from home, even occasionally, are looking for one more bedroom than they would have in the past, which has created more competition,” says Wilson Craw. Meanwhile, the number of homes for rent has shrunk drastically. Trade body Propertymark found that availability has halved since 2019, largely due to a mass exodus of private landlords. An unusually high number sold due to factors such as high house prices, legislative reforms to protect tenants and improve conditions (disincentives for unscrupulous operators) and what has been described as “the great revaluation”, with many people rethinking their lives after the pandemic. Lucrative vacation rentals also reduce the availability of long-term rental properties. The result is more people fighting for fewer rooms – even in places where supply had previously met demand. A recent analysis by property market consultancy Dataloft found that affordability has plummeted in towns including Rotherham, Bolton, Salford, Walsall and Dudley since the pandemic. Across the UK, it has become common for prospective tenants to be asked how much rent they are willing to pay, with the property going to the highest bidder – sometimes up to £300 above the asking price. These affordable properties are snapped up invisibly, often within minutes of being listed online. Black mold, often found in poorly maintained properties. Photo: Andrei310/Getty Images/iStockphoto Imo and a friend, both 25, started hunting for a two-bedroom flat in north and east London in June. They made 20 odd searches, but were fast enough to see only five. “New positions would have been lost by the end of the day, making viewings almost impossible,” says Imo – and each of their three bids was easily outbid by others. They were eventually offered a flat in Newham, east London, which was not yet on the market. Listed as furnished but came without beds. It was available a month later than they needed, had a washer full of mold and “hadn’t been cleaned in a month,” says Imo. The estate agent told them they could take it as it came or find somewhere else. They got it. “It made me very wary of moving again,” says Imo. “Agents and landlords are treating this as a game, without considering how it affects tenants.” Some might say that renting in London has been a challenge for years, but a sharp decline in supply – dating back to at least last summer – has exacerbated the problem. New figures from estate agent Chestertons show the number of homes available to rent in the capital fell by 38% in the year to July. “It’s a total disaster in London at the moment,” says John Myers, co-founder of London Yimby (which stands for Yes in My Backyard), advocating for affordable housing. “Rents have skyrocketed, people just can’t find something they can afford … There’s a real crisis.” On social media, listings are circulating with alarming regularity about studios where the shower is next to the kitchen sink or lofts with ceilings so low you can’t sit up in bed. Although the photos are darkly comical, the real price is the asking price – often, in London, well over £1,500 a month – and the knowledge that someone will surely pay it. “It’s a classic kind of lack of economy,” Myers says. “There are some good quality apartments out there, but they cost the earth and are out of reach for anyone on a normal salary.” Even those with good salaries find it difficult. “It’s hell,” says Julia, 22. She and her partner, 23, planned to move from Cambridge to London this month and have a combined annual income of around £132,000. They don’t want to spend more than £2,500 a month on rent as they hope to buy a house one day. But even that budget no longer extends to a double in zone two. “Prices just went up so much,” says Julia. “We’re objectively in a very fortunate position, but we’re still struggling to find somewhere within the budget.” In the past, “you were able to compromise” on available properties, he says. now, almost nothing is possible. She was shocked to discover that the small three-bedroom flat she rented with friends in Maida Vale in 2020, which “smelled of a mouse”, has been reduced from £2,250 a month to £3,400 in just two years. With their relocation waiting for only one place to stay, the search has taken its toll on Julia. “It’s not good for your stress to be checking your phone 20 times a day whenever a property comes up and deciding if you like it,” she says. Photo: designer491/Alamy Londoners’ complaints about renting were met with wider indifference to the cost of living in the big city. But now, remarkably, the problem is spreading rapidly across the country. Figures from property website Rightmove show that market rents across the UK rose by almost 12% between the second quarter of 2021 and the same period this year – equivalent to an extra £119 a month on average, or 1,428 £ per annum. Those who had already left the cities in search of affordable housing may now feel as though the crisis has caught up with them. Fi left London for Essex four years ago, partly because she has a disability and is unable to work full-time. Earlier this year, she and her partner Paul, both 33, decided to look for a place to rent together in his native Suffolk. They soon realized they would have to act fast. “The amount of people trying to get to each place was just crazy,” says Fi. The day he ended up in the hospital for surgery, the couple had booked two screenings. Fi told Paul to go ahead without her. “I said, ‘We have no choice. We need somewhere to live.” A house was more or less ideal. Pavlos said that if he was interested he would have to apply on the spot. “It’s a case of fastest finger first – that’s how I filled in the applications from my hospital bed,” says Fi. “It’s just the kind of rental market madness they couldn’t wait for.” Their application was supposed to be successful but, with two weeks to go until their move-in date, they weren’t asked to pay a down payment or sign a lease. Fi is still worried that he might fall. In the meantime, she and Paul share a room at his parents’ house and sleep in single beds. “We stress about it all the time,” says Fi. “We’re supposed to be moving in two weeks and we still don’t know if we have the place and what’s going to happen or if we’re going to have to start from square one again.” In such an overheated market, landlords can dictate their terms, such as asking for financial records to be included with applications or six or even 12 months’ rent being paid in advance. Almost 20% of LGBTQ+ private renters said they felt discriminated against Tenants for new leases are selected based on uncertain, potentially discriminatory criteria. Katharine feared that her surname, of Slavic origin, would put her at a disadvantage against the competition. “Anyone with a name that’s not Anglo-Saxon is going to get a bit paranoid, especially with Brexit,” he says. The One Generation Rent survey found that 19% of LGBTQ+ private renters said they felt discriminated against based on their gender identity or sexual orientation. Lucy, 27, researched houses and ‘shared houses’ to move to London from Manchester, without success. He ended up paying for a studio in Stockwell, south London. “I am…
