Celebrity Homes NYC Life

Taylor Swift and Her Fab Tribeca Apartment

Taylor Swift, bigger than Spotify or any other music streaming service in the universe, has achieved royal status in the music industry and is living requisitely large. Consider the “style”-ish singer’s NYC digs: A $19.955-million doubled-up penthouse that spans 8,000-square-feet atop 155 Franklin Street.

Combined from two units, the deeds show the 5,869-square-foot #PH6S sold for $14.850 million, while #PH6N (2,440 square feet) sold for $5.1 million. With 9 bedrooms and 9 bathrooms, Swift has no problem finding room for all her friends and, sometimes, some lucky die-hard fans (Swifties) that Swift allows in for a little look-see.

Some of us would call that Tribeca, but Swift’s got a plaque on one of the walls announcing that the downtown enclave is really “Taybeca.” Get the picture?

The “1989” songstress may be off touring the world through the end of 2015, but the Pennsylvania-born entertainer has a coast-to-coast bevy of abodes that she calls home, including a Nashville condo, a Los Angeles Craftsman and a whopping, seaside estate in Rhode Island, where Swift partied with her current beau, DJ Calvin Harris, and buddies like Ed Sheeran on July 4th.

But for all her real estate deals since ascending to the top of the music world, none more specifically signaled just how fierce Swift is than her 2014 purchase of the mammoth downtown duplex that had been owned by “Lord of the Rings” director Peter Jackson. With that big transaction, Swift turned the tables on the ol’ NYC adage that says if you can make it here you can make it anywhere.

Swift had already made it everywhere. Her ownership of this premiere dwelling was nothing less than a full-throated declaration that Swift was no pop/country satellite happy to be part of the music-star galaxy. With her sold-out concerts and high-profile friends and take-downs of the music industry’s attempts to syphon off artist profits, Swift is more like the sun.

No wonder Orlando Bloom took one look at Swift and her entourage and put his 155 Franklin Street condo up for sale. The actor listed his 3-bedroom, 2.5-bathroom unit for sale in February, figuring that the only way to keep out of paparazzi harm’s way was to move out of building in which Swift now resides. Bloom fetched $5.49 million for the place and left the “Taybeca” loft building for Swift & Co.

Rolling Stone magazine got a first glimpse of Swift in her loft and reported this about the Taylor-led tour:

There’s one way into Swift’s new apartment building, and much of the time it’s guarded by a former NYPD officer named Jimmy, who unlocks the door for residents and visitors alike. This may be a drag for neighbors like Steven Soderbergh and Orlando Bloom, who have dropped seven figures to live at one of Tribeca’s toniest addresses, but it’s an unavoidable fact of life when the 24-year-old on the top floor is one of the biggest pop stars on the planet. “Most of the neighbors know what’s what by now,” Jimmy says, locking the door behind him. Today is a good day for Jimmy, because the elevator is working again after a brief period of being broken. “It’s six floors up,” he says, frowning. “And we don’t travel light, if you know what I mean.” I tell him I think I do know what he means, and Jimmy laughs. “The shoes alone!”

Up in the penthouse, a barefoot Swift answers the door in a periwinkle-blue sundress: “Welcome to my apartment!” In the kitchen there’s an assortment of pastries from a hip downtown spot called the Smile (“They have these banana-quinoa muffins that I’m obsessed with”), and in the refrigerator are a surprising number of varieties of sparkling water. (“I have black cherry, pomegranate, blueberry, strawberry, key lime, tangerine lime . . .”

Swift shuts the fridge. “Do you want a tour?” She breezes into the living room, pointing out the fish tank filled with vintage baseballs (“I was like, ‘That’s so cool, they’re so old!'”) and some enormous scented candles (“I was like, ‘That’s so cool, they’re so big!'”). “There’s my piano,” she says. “Here’s my pool table that always has cat hair on it. That’s my skylight.” She bumps into a doorway. “That’s a door that I walk into.”

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