In Mexico, a Moody Mountain Home With Major Altitude

Lorena Ramos and Carlos Moss live and work about 7,500 feet above sea level in the high-plateau megalopolis of Mexico City. But when it came time to commission a vacation home, they took it up a notch, altitude-wise. They built a home about 2,000 feet higher in an area known as the Corridor de la Montaña, or Mountain Corridor, in the state of Hidalgo.

Ramos, a 35-year-old sales director, and Moss, a 38-year-old executive in the construction industry, bought their steep 1/3-acre lot in 2021 for about $73,000. Then they spent roughly $475,000 to build and furnish a new house, working with Mexico City architect Rodrigo Saavedra Pérez-Salas. His design, using a cantilever, suspends the two-storey structure off the side of a densely wooded slope. From the inside, it can feel like a vast, floating treehouse.

undefined They named the property after their boxer, Oruç, now 11, and initially planned to use the home to entertain friends on weekends and holidays, outfitting the lower level with a funky bar. The three bedrooms—some equipped with bunk beds—and three bathrooms can accommodate up to eight people.

But this summer, less than a year after finishing construction, they had their son, Nicolás. That means they have to make some changes to babyproof the house. “We will have to do something,” says Ramos.

The vacation home is part of the first wave of development on the site of what was once a sprawling private estate. The property sits in Mexico’s Sierra de Pachuca mountain range, part of the vast Sierra Madre Oriental that runs along the east of the country. Their area is marked by atmospheric mists and a lengthy rainy season.

For Saavedra, the architect, the hard choice wasn’t where to place the house—a clearing in the woods, in the middle of the lot, was just about the only spot—but how to access the house once it was built. The most direct route would have meant seeing a house sticking out of the woods, says the 35-year-old founder and principal of Saavedra Arquitectos. Instead, he devised what he calls “a narrative” that leads visitors over a bridge, then down and around a series of winding stairs and through a masonry door that acts as a kind of ceremonial portal to the house. When visitors first arrive on the lot, all they see is tree. As they descend and approach the house itself, they are given a tour of the exterior of the building, while glimpsing the evocative mountain terrain beyond and below.

The couple chose moody interiors to play off local conditions, with lots of exposed steel beams, steel-tinted concrete, dark wood and glass walls that let tree-filtered light stream in. A spare open stairwell and thin inner and outer railings add to the minimalist flare.

All this added atmosphere came at a cost. The couple spent about $94,000 on steel, which includes the bridge and the costly cantilever.

Intent on a sustainable home, they managed to reuse what another homeowner might regard as outright waste. They have stored firewood for the great room in leftover steel girders, fashioned into a Brutalist rack, and they used leftover wood from their board-formed concrete molds as paneling in the primary bedroom. Most recently, they have installed a rainwater collection system, with a cistern placed uphill from the house, and they now use the bounty for everything from washing to drinking.

Though Casa Oruç is surrounded by trees, Saavedra managed to build the whole 2,400-square-foot house by only cutting down a handful. This ship-in-a-bottle effect is apparent in an upstairs deck, which incorporates two oyamel firs, a species native to the mountains of central and southern Mexico. Downstairs, the bar area is built around one of the firs, set off by a glass enclosure.

The open-plan kitchen, which Ramos helped design, was a splurge of about $34,000. The couple spent about the same amount on the glass doors and windows—a cost most apparent in the primary bedroom, which has glazing on three sides.

Being nearly 9,500 feet above sea level means the couple can do without air conditioning, and even though it rarely gets below freezing, heating is a must for much of the year. They spent around $15,660 on an electrical heating system, which, depending on where they are in the house, radiates from either the floor or the ceiling. They also spent some $10,500 on two fireplaces—gas-burning for the bedroom, and wood-burning for the great room’s main sitting area. They use them for heat and for added coziness, says Moss.

The couple have kept their lot as wild as possible, putting their landscaping budget at less than $1,000. And they can tour the area’s rough and wild terrain starting right on their property, which contains a few dramatic rock formations. Though their home is nearly as far above sea level as the taller peaks of Montana’s Glacier National Park, the spot is more bucolic than dramatic. The house is high up, concedes Moss, “but not ridiculously high,” invoking a category that for him starts at about 16,000 feet.

Now, looking ahead to the end of the year, when Nicolás will start to crawl, they are set to invest around $3,000 to babyproof. This will include installing tempered glass to close off the bare-bones railings of their main terrace, located off the upper floor’s great room, and protecting the exposed inside stairwell connecting the great room above with the bar area below.

When the baby came, they hadn’t yet decided on blinds or curtains in the primary bedroom, which turned out to be a benefit. “We get to see all the different shades of light—when it’s getting dark, then when the sun comes up,” says Ramos, who appreciates these subtle changes throughout the day. Perhaps her baby does, too. “I always give Nicolás his first feed while in bed, and he loves staring outside,” she says.

Many new arrivals to this altitude might be gasping, but little Nicolás is doing just fine. He likes to “contemplate the view of the sky and tree tops from our laps,” says his mother.

Foundation and framing:

$169,725 (including masonry)

Steel (including cantilever):

$94,000

Kitchen:

$34,000

Bathrooms:

$18,500

Landscaping:

$780

Fireplaces:

$10,450

Electrical work:

$27,260

Floors (including outdoor decks):

$25,000

Glazing (glass doors and windows):

$34,000

Lighting:

$3,100

James and Ellen Patterson are hardly Luddites. But the couple, who both work in tech, made an unexpectedly old-timey decision during the renovation of their 1928 Washington, D.C., home last year.

The Pattersons had planned to use a spacious unfinished basement room to store James’s music equipment, but noticed that their children, all under age 21, kept disappearing down there to entertain themselves for hours without the aid of tablets or TVs.

Inspired, the duo brought a new directive to their design team.

The subterranean space would become an “analog room”: a studiously screen-free zone where the family could play board games together, practice instruments, listen to records or just lounge about lazily, undistracted by devices.

For decades, we’ve celebrated the rise of the “smart home”—knobless, switchless, effortless and entirely orchestrated via apps.

But evidence suggests that screen-free “dumb” spaces might be poised for a comeback.

Many smart-home features are losing their luster as they raise concerns about surveillance and, frankly, just don’t function.

New York designer Christine Gachot said she’d never have to work again “if I had a dollar for every time I had a client tell me ‘my smart music system keeps dropping off’ or ‘I can’t log in.’ ”

Google searches for “how to reduce screen time” reached an all-time high in 2025. In the past four years on TikTok, videos tagged #AnalogLife—cataloging users’ embrace of old technology, physical media and low-tech lifestyles—received over 76 million views.

And last month, Architectural Digest reported on nostalgia for old-school tech : “landline in hand, cord twirled around finger.”

Catherine Price, author of “ How to Break Up With Your Phone,” calls the trend heartening.

“People are waking up to the idea that screens are getting in the way of real life interactions and taking steps through design choices to create an alternative, places where people can be fully present,” said Price, whose new book “ The Amazing Generation ,” co-written with Jonathan Haidt, counsels tweens and kids on fun ways to escape screens.

From both a user and design perspective, the Pattersons consider their analog room a success.

Freed from the need to accommodate an oversize television or stuff walls with miles of wiring, their design team—BarnesVanze Architects and designer Colman Riddell—could get more creative, dividing the space into discrete music and game zones.

Ellen’s octogenarian parents, who live nearby, often swing by for a round or two of the Stock Market Game, an eBay-sourced relic from Ellen’s childhood that requires calculations with pen and paper.

In the music area, James’s collection of retro Fender and Gibson guitars adorn walls slicked with Farrow & Ball’s Card Room Green , while the ceiling is papered with a pattern that mimics the organic texture of vintage Fender tweed.

A trio of collectible amps cluster behind a standing mic—forming a de facto stage where family and friends perform on karaoke nights. Built-in cabinets display a Rega turntable and the couple’s vinyl record collection.

“Playing a game with family or doing your own little impromptu karaoke is just so much more joyful than getting on your phone and scrolling for 45 minutes,” said James.

The Patterson family’s basement retreat ‘encapsulates the joy in the things that we love in one room.’ John Cole

Screen-Free ‘Escapes’

“Dumb” design will likely continue to gather steam, said Hans Lorei, a designer in Nashville, Tenn., as people increasingly treat their homes “less as spaces to optimise and more as spaces to retreat.”

Case in point: The top-floor nook that designer Jeanne Hayes of Camden Grace Interiors carved out in her Connecticut home as an “offline-office” space.

Her desk? A periwinkle beanbag chair paired with an ottoman by Jaxx. “I hunker down here when I need to escape distractions from the outside world,” she explained.

“Sometimes I’m scheming designs for a project while listening to vinyl, other times I’m reading the newspaper in solitude. When I’m in here without screens, I feel more peaceful and more productive at the same time—two things that rarely go hand in hand.”

A subtle archway marks the transition into designer Zoë Feldman’s Washington, D.C., rosy sunroom—a serene space she conceived as a respite from the digital demands of everyday life.

Used for reading and quiet conversation, it “reinforces how restorative it can be to be physically present in a room without constant input,” the designer said.

Laura Lubin, owner of Nashville-based Ellerslie Interiors, transformed a tiny guest bedroom in her family’s cottage into her own “wellness room,” where she retreats for sound baths, massages and reflection.

“Without screens, the room immediately shifts your nervous system. You’re not multitasking or consuming, you’re just present,” said Lubin.

As a designer, she’s fielding requests from clients for similar spaces that support mental health and rest, she said.

“People are overstimulated and overscheduled,” she explained. “Homes are no longer just places to live—they’re expected to actively support well-being.”

Designer Molly Torres Portnof of New York’s DATE Interiors adopted the same brief when she designed a music room for her husband, owner of the labels Greenway Records and Levitation, in their Lido Beach, N.Y. home. He goes there nightly to listen to records or play his guitar.

The game closet from the townhouse in “The Royal Tenenbaums”? That idea is back too, says Gachot. Last year she designed an epic game room backed by a rock climbing wall for a young family in Montana.

When you’re watching a show or on your phone, “it’s a solo experience for the most part,” the designer said. “The family really wanted to encourage everybody to do things together.”

Analog Accessories

Don’t have the space—or the budget—to kit out an entire retro rec room?

“There are a lot of small tweaks you can make even if you don’t have the time, energy or budget to design a fully analog room from scratch,” said Price.

Gachot says “the small things in people’s lives are cues of what the bigger trends are.”

More of her clients, she’s noticed, have been requesting retrograde staples, such as analog clocks and magazine racks.

For her Los Angeles living room, chef Sara Kramer sourced a vintage piano from Craigslist to be the room’s centerpiece, rather than sacrifice its design to the dominant black box of a smart TV. Alabama designer Lauren Conner recently worked with a client who bought a home with a rotary phone.

Rather than rip it out, she decided to keep it up and running, adding a silver receiver cover embellished with her grandmother’s initials.

Some throwback accessories aren’t so subtle. Melia Marden was browsing listings from the Public Sale Auction House in Hudson, N.Y. when she spotted a phone booth from Bell Systems circa the late 1950s and successfully bid on it for a few hundred dollars.

“It was a pandemic impulse buy,” said Marden.

In 2023, she and her husband, Frank Sisti Jr., began working with designer Elliot Meier and contractor ReidBuild to integrate the booth into what had been a hallway linen closet in their Brooklyn townhouse.

Canadian supplier Old Phone Works refurbished the phone and sold them the pulse-to-tone converter that translates the rotary dial to a modern phone line.

The couple had collected a vintage whimsical animal-adorned wallpaper (featured in a different colourway in “Pee-wee’s Playhouse”) and had just enough to cover the phone booth’s interior.

Their children, ages 9 and 11, don’t have their own phones, so use the booth to communicate with family. It’s also become a favorite spot for hiding away with a stack of Archie comic books.

The booth has brought back memories of meandering calls from Marden’s own youth—along with some of that era’s simple joy. As Meier puts it: “It’s got this magical wardrobe kind of feeling.”

In Mexico, a Moody Mountain Home With Major Altitude

The owners spent $73,000 on the land, plus another $475,000 building their vacation house

Weary of ‘smart’ everything, Americans are craving stylish ‘analog rooms’ free of digital distractions—and designers are making them a growing trend.

Screen-Free ‘Escapes’

Analog Accessories