What started as a practical experiment quickly became a passion project. Chloe and Brandon were constantly on the move for their production design company, Shiphouse Productions, juggling film and photography jobs across New England. They craved the ability to relocate without uprooting their entire lives each time. Renting felt wasteful, and buying land wasn’t in the cards. A tiny house struck the perfect balance: affordable, flexible, and a blank canvas for the creative skills they used every day. In the early years the plumbing and electricity were improvised, but the dream of a custom, movable sanctuary kept them going.
That dream was also shaped by thrift. Instead of ordering stacks of new lumber, they salvaged over 700 two-by-fours from a set they’d built for a client – wood that would have otherwise ended up in a dumpster. Those beams became the skeleton of their home, with salvaged windows, flea-market fixtures, and roadside treasures filling in the details. Their most expensive single purchase wasn’t a fancy fixture or finish but the trailer itself, at $1,000. All told, they’ve spent about $25,000 on the house, with much of that spread out over the years as they added plumbing, electricity, and furnishings piece by piece.
The result is a structure that defies expectations. Collapsed, the house travels at just over 13 feet tall and 8½ feet wide, carefully built to comply with road restrictions. Parked, it transforms into something much more generous: the roof rises, the wings swing open, and suddenly there’s room to breathe. At the center of it all is a whimsical ship’s wheel, which drives a spool and pulley system that lifts the roof like the lid of a shoebox. Hinged walls fold into place, the floor panels drop down, and what was once a road-ready rectangle becomes a 14-foot-wide cottage complete with a spacious sleeping loft.
It’s a house that feels alive with invention. On the outside, dark timbers and angled windows give off strong steampunk-meets-storybook vibes; inside, the mood shifts to something more eclectic and lived-in. There are two dedicated workspaces for design projects, a custom nook under the stairs for their rabbits (affectionately called the Rabitat), and a vintage Magic Chef oven found on Craigslist that now anchors the kitchen. Even the shower was crafted from $25 worth of scrap metal. Every corner tells a story, and nearly everything has been repurposed, reimagined, or handmade.
Living small, of course, hasn’t been without challenges. Winters in New England mean heated hoses and constant vigilance against frozen pipes. Finding land to build and park on was another hurdle – at one point, they posted an ad on Craigslist asking if anyone had a plot to spare. That gamble led them to the Blume family, who not only welcomed them but became close friends, letting Chloe and Brandon park and build on their land for more than two years. Those relationships, just like the house itself, were built from scratch.
What started as a five-year plan to save money and stay mobile has now stretched into more than a decade. The house has been featured on HGTV, toured in national magazines, and most recently became the subject of their new book, Tales of a Not So Tiny House. Yet for Chloe and Brandon, it isn’t just a project or a portfolio piece—it’s home.
Designed with road restrictions in mind, the house measures 13 feet tall and 8½ feet wide when in travel mode. Once parked, though, it transforms—gaining an extra 2 feet 8 inches in height and stretching to 14 feet wide. Anything not built in has to be packed away for the journey, but once the wheels stop turning, the magic begins.
At the heart of the expansion is a whimsical detail that feels straight out of a storybook: a ship’s wheel mounted to the front of the home. Brandon designed the mechanism himself to raise the roof and create more space in the sleeping loft. Turning the wheel sets a spool in motion, pulling four ropes that run through block-and-tackle pulleys. As the ropes tighten, the roof lifts upward on its pipe legs—like the lid of a shoebox being opened.
From there, the house unfolds in a carefully choreographed sequence. The hinged walls, stacked neatly for travel, swing into place and are bolted down. The wings expand with their own rhythm: first the floor folds down, then the roof lifts into position, braced by triangular supports. The outer walls slide and hinge into place, seams meeting with weatherstripping before everything is secured with bolts. The end result is a compact traveler that blossoms into a surprisingly spacious cottage.
The screen door is one of the home’s most personal details. Designed by Chloe, it intertwines spiderwebs and roses with silhouette portraits of both Chloe and Brandon. Brandon brought the design to life at their local makerspace, using a plasma cutter to carve the intricate patterns into metal.
The black lantern has a story as intriguing as the house itself. Chloe found it in an antique shop, where the seller explained it had been brought in by a pair of witches from Salem. They had acquired it from someone in New Orleans, where the lantern had reportedly hung in a mysterious spot for decades.
When you enter the house, the toilet is on the left and the shower room is on the right. Instead of squeezing in a traditional vanity, the couple mounted a fold-down sink on the wall outside the toilet. It’s a nod to the ingenious washbasins once found on old trains and ships. Vintage versions proved far too expensive, but a modern equivalent fits the bill perfectly—practical, space-saving, and a subtle complement to the home’s retro kitchen vibe.
Small, whimsical details bring the space to life. The brass mermaid medallion on the bathroom door, picked up for just twenty-five dollars at an antique store, likely once served as the lid of a jewelry box. Above, the “medicine cabinet” is a playful reinvention: a turkey roasting pan topped with a mirror, salvaged for free from the local Swap Shed. It’s equal parts resourceful and charming, perfectly in keeping with the couple’s design philosophy.
At the center of the house, the layout naturally divides into “her” and “his” sides, giving both Chloe and Brandon their own dedicated zones for work and storage. For a time, their rabbit had a prime spot here too—a custom nook under the raised floor affectionately dubbed the Rabitat. These days, the bunny enjoys life outdoors, and the hidden compartment has been repurposed for storage
Chloe’s work and wardrobe corner feels like a jewel box, layered with her favorite things—pink accents, floral patterns, and plenty of thrifted treasures. The star of the space is a curvy, flower-shaped chair she spotted at a thrift store for seventy-five dollars. “I knew right away its shape would be adorable in my office,” she says. While she and Brandon had hoped to reupholster it themselves, they ultimately left the job to a professional—a splurge they sometimes laugh about. “Why buy a new chair when you can redo a used one for the same price?”
Her wardrobe area mixes custom-built elements with salvaged finds, all designed to stay adaptable. A pipe framework supports mobile shelving and storage, keeping the small footprint from feeling cramped, while drawers salvaged from old nightstands slot neatly into place. The pièce de résistance is a brass Drescher trunk she scooped up at a flea market for just twenty-five dollars—a lucky find, since similar pieces sell online for hundreds.
The whole closet setup attaches to a folding wall so it can move easily when the house is in transit. The trunk is removable, the shoe rack folds away (helpful for rabbit-proofing), and nearly every material has been thrifted or salvaged. The finishing touches are as whimsical as they are personal: floral curtains and wallpaper, discovered at different times and in different places, somehow look as though they were made for each other. I
For Chloe, having a functional vanity was nonnegotiable—a spot where she could comfortably do her makeup and hair. Her beautiful desk was a lucky roadside find, spotted while the couple sat at a red light. “There’s a free desk—we should get it,” she said, turning a bad day around. At home, they reworked the rectangular top into an L-shape to fit the corner, added drawers and shelves, and gave it a fresh coat of paint.
A salvaged mirror, which Brandon cleverly turned into a cabinet, anchors the space, framed by a bolted-pipe structure that keeps everything sturdy but light. Overhead, a pink metal cabinet thrifted for just ten dollars adds a playful retro touch—its curves remind Chloe of a vintage car. Another thrifty score, a magnetized round mirror (also ten dollars), layers in flexibility, while a custom bookshelf Brandon built from scratch ties the whole nook together.
Floral curtains and wallpaper, thrifted at different times and places, come together like they were always meant to match—proof that the best finishing touches are often the most unexpected.
At the rear of the house lies its true heart: the retro-inspired kitchen. The design began with one standout piece—a 1950s vintage Magic Chef apartment-size stove that set the tone for the entire space. Chloe and Brandon found it on Craigslist for just $150, long before construction on the house even began. In remarkable condition, the heavy enamel stove gleamed inside and out and even included a charming built-in toaster/broiler shelf at the bottom.
Converting it for modern use turned out to be one of their biggest splurges. They hired a plumber to switch it from natural gas to propane—a $500 job they both agreed was worth every penny. While Brandon handled most of the home’s plumbing and gas lines himself, this was one project they felt safer leaving to a professional.
In the kitchen, the couple wanted to create a circular flow—a space that felt wrapped in resources but still open to the rest of the house. Hanging pots, glassware, and fruit baskets line the curved perimeter, defining the zone without cutting it off from the living area.
For Chloe, efficiency was key. “I’ve always loved the idea of combining dish drying and storage,” she explains. “It’s a model of efficiency that makes doing dishes so much easier.” Over the course of a year, she collected chrome, copper, and brass storage pieces, then riveted leftover aluminum scraps from the roof to form a gleaming backsplash. A drip pan leads straight into the sink, turning the backsplash into both a statement feature and a built-in drying rack. The whole system is supported by a galvanized pipe framework, giving the space a distinctly industrial edge.
Even the placement of appliances was carefully considered. The refrigerator sits on a step-on lazy Susan platform, so the entire unit rotates to reveal storage tucked above. Elevating the fridge also makes it easier to see and reach the lower shelves.
Brandon’s workspace is as inventive and layered as the rest of the house. He stumbled across an old watchmaker’s desk while sourcing pieces for an interior design job, then customized it to fit perfectly by trimming the lower left side into a curve and attaching it to his hinged wall. Chloe gave it a two-tone stain—light and dark—while Brandon turned it into a true maker’s hub, adding clever contraptions whenever inspiration struck. Polished black pipe frames a set of shelves he built from wood and acrylic, and maps of his old stomping grounds rotate as his screensavers, a nod to his love of travel.
Storage solutions here are equally personal. Beneath the desk, Brandon built shelves for boots and moccasins to keep his footwear in check.
His drafting chair was a flea market find that he customized with a circular footrest, and he’s already planning the next upgrade—adding wheels to make it even more functional.
His wingback chair, once worn and tired, has been given new life with ten-dollar claw feet from an estate sale and a brass wheel thrifted for just five dollars.
Upstairs, the home opens into two lofts: one serves as the couple’s primary bedroom, while the other doubles as a guest bed or a cozy couch for lounging. Both are reached by ladders Brandon built himself, sturdy and simple, in keeping with the couple’s DIY ethos.
The main loft carries its own history. The bedframe was a roadside find that Chloe and Brandon refurbished to fit the space perfectly.
Over time, the bedding has evolved into an eclectic mix of thrifted textiles—pieces Chloe loves to hunt down, often vintage or handmade, chosen for their rich fabrics and timeless feel. Above the bed, a thrifted ornamental shelf was cleverly paired with a curtain rod to create a custom valance, adding just the right touch of charm.
For comfort and privacy, both lofts are outfitted with curtains, giving each space the flexibility to feel enclosed and intimate when needed, or open to the rest of the house when drawn back.
The couple’s new Gnome propane stove from Thelin is set to become the cozy centerpiece of their tiny home. Mounted on a mosaic-tiled base with wheels, it can glide back and forth with the movement of Brandon’s folding wardrobe wall, while the chimney—piped through the roof—packs away neatly for travel days. They chose propane over wood for its practicality: it needs less clearance, keeps the house warm even during a power outage, and spares them from tending a fire. Thanks to the stove’s double-walled chimney, fresh air is drawn in as exhaust is expelled, keeping the indoor air quality clean. And when it’s lit, the flickering flame behind the glass makes the entire house glow like a traditional hearth.
@chloeandbrandon Replying to @Mike c Brief tiny house bathroom tour! #tinyhouse #tinyhome #tinyhouseonwheels #cottagecore #steampunk #ghibli #fantasy #whimsycore #whimsical #tinyliving #hgtv #diy #handmade #salvaged #grandmacore #pirateship #newengland #newhampshire #fyp #thrifted #bathroom #renovation #bathroomrenovation ♬ Burgundy Street Blues – The Storyville Jassband
Just inside the front door, to the left, sits the couple’s bathroom—a compact but surprisingly inventive space. The shower alone is a showstopper: built for only twenty dollars from scrap metal salvaged at a junkyard. Inspired by the riveted airplanes of the 1940s and the heavy doors of old submarines, Brandon cut the mismatched sheets into patchwork panels, then drilled, riveted, and bolted them into place. The finishing touch is a playful detail—a round porthole window made from a repurposed Crock-Pot lid.
The toilet is a straightforward composting setup with a simple separating system ordered online. Solids are collected in a rear bucket, liquids in a smaller one at the front, and a scoop of sawdust from the local lumberyard keeps odors at bay. A discreet built-in fan helps with ventilation, while toilet paper is tossed separately to keep the system running smoothly. It’s a functional, low-cost solution that fits seamlessly into their off-grid, small-space lifestyle.
