> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.mattrei.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # Lipstick on a Pig: Why Pretty Rentals Lose - URL: https://www.mattrei.com/lipstick-on-a-pig-why-pretty-rentals-lose/ - Published: 2026-07-08T18:12:32.000Z - Updated: 2026-07-09T15:25:31.000Z - Author: Matt Irvine Your new tenant moves in on the first. Day two, they take a shower and the drain backs up. Day five, an outlet sparks the first time they run their microwave and scares the sh\*t out of them. Day eight, they notice a slow leak under the kitchen sink. It's been eight days, and they're already standing in the middle of their new apartment thinking what no landlord wants their tenant thinking: why am I paying rent for this place? It's a dump. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/b7/77/b77761f3-806d-4489-a320-c249d244e402/content/images/2026/07/shutterstock_1551188726.jpg) The worst part? You just spent three weeks and $8,000 for it to look great. Fresh paint. New floors. Cabinets you just painted. It looked fantastic in the listing photos, but it was lipstick on a pig. That's the whole trap, right there. Looking good and working right are two completely different projects — and most owners fund the first one and skip the second. It's actually kind of scary. I know that trap from the inside, because I lived in it for years. It took me years in business, and a couple dozen turnovers, to admit that most of the renovations I was so proud of were stupid. My identity was tied to my units being the nicest looking in town. I moved walls I had no business moving. I added half-baths nobody asked for. I put dishwashers in units where not a single comparable apartment had one. I was leaving my mark. And none of it made me a dollar. So there's zero judgment if you're doing it right now — it was me too. Here's what I didn't understand back then. When you pour your budget into the flashy stuff and skip the bones, four things happen, and every one of them costs you. You get more maintenance calls. Your tenants have a worse experience. They move out sooner. And the flashy stuff you installed wears out faster, because more move-ins and move-outs just does that — so you're replacing it more often too. You didn't buy yourself a nicer unit. You bought yourself more phone calls and a shorter replacement cycle. So I flipped the entire thing around. Now every turnover I do runs in the same order, and it's almost the exact opposite of what the internet tells you to obsess over. Functionality first. Paint second. Cleanliness third. Functionality first is the boring stuff nobody ever photographs. Does the toilet actually work, or has it leaked for a year and the subfloor is mush? Do the drains actually drain? Is the hot water actually hot — and how old is that water heater, and has it ever been serviced (drained and inspected)? Are the outlets secure? Are the GFIs where they need to be? What's the trap under that sink — a real trap, or the homeowner special, that accordion bendy python that pops loose the first time someone shoves a box of cleaning supplies under there? None of this earns you an extra dollar in rent. All of it prevents the phone call. That's the trade, and it's the best one in the business. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/b7/77/b77761f3-806d-4489-a320-c249d244e402/content/images/2026/07/shutterstock_1899369097.jpg) What about upgrades? Only when something is genuinely worn out and has to go — the water-damaged cabinet, the stained carpet you can't rescue — replace it with a material that matches how long you plan to own the place. If you're going to sell in 3 years versus 20, you can spend less. Not the cheapest thing on the shelf, not the fanciest either. The one that'll still be doing its job the day you sell. Cabinets with plywood boxes and hardwood faces cost more in material, but the install labor's identical — sometimes a good set is actually cheaper to install than a junk set. The cheaper the material, the more unpredictable the usable life. For example, I've seen 30-year-old laminate counters that still look great, and I've seen them bubble up and fail in five. The more units you own, the more you land on the average, so install materials whose average life matches your plan. Replacing the same items multiple times doesn't need to happen with proper planning. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/b7/77/b77761f3-806d-4489-a320-c249d244e402/content/images/2026/07/shutterstock_2754806129.jpg) Paint second. A proper fresh coat. If you're doing this yourself, do it right; if you're subcontracting, get a painter, not a handyman. Here's why. Our brains have thousands of built-in shortcuts — they're designed for identifying patterns. A prospective tenant probably can't point out the flaws, but their brain will subtly pick up on the slop: poorly cut lines, paint on the outlet covers, run marks from too much paint catching the light. These flaws may be subtle, but they create visual unease. A well-done paint job is worth it. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/b7/77/b77761f3-806d-4489-a320-c249d244e402/content/images/2026/07/shutterstock_2635135871-1.jpg) Cleanliness third. Last step, get it spotless. Not clean. Spotless. It's the most underrated dollar you will ever spend on a unit, and a great place to add your labor as a newer landlord. I can't tell you how many listings I see where there are still construction tools in the photos. Finish the project, clean up to "move-in ready" standards, then get your photos taken. You will be amazed how many agents rave about how clean your units are compared to others they've shown. Now it shows beautifully, and you can be at peace during the first few weeks after move-in. Does this mean you never make anything nice? No. If you've got the time, the skill, and — this part matters — you actually know your budget, then go make something nice. The rule isn't "never." The rule is: make luxury the last question, not the first — and only when that luxury is genuinely necessary to win the tenant you're competing for. The test I use now is simple. Instead of asking "would I love a dishwasher in here," I ask, "if I lived here, would I want a leaking sink?" Solve that one first. Every single time. Because here's the beautiful thing about a unit that just works: your tenant will never notice it. They'll move in, everything will do exactly what it's supposed to do, and their first three months — the months that set the tone for the entire tenancy — will be quietly, invisibly good. Nobody's going to send you a thank-you note for a properly installed P-trap. That is the point. The goal was never to impress them. The goal is for nothing to go wrong. Here's another way of thinking about it. Nobody has ever called me in the middle of a lease to say the cabinets are looking a little dated and they'd like new ones. It has never happened, and it never will. But tenants absolutely call about drain clogs. About drafty windows. About heat that won't hold steady. About the electric bill that gut-punched them their first winter in the place. So stop planning your turnover by thinking about the pretty pictures. Plan it backward, from the phone calls. Ask yourself one question before you spend a dollar: what would a tenant call me about in the next twelve months — and what can I do right now, during this turnover, to make sure they never have to? Answer that, and you've done the most profitable renovation there is. The one nobody will ever notice. ## The next one's already written Real buildings, real tenants, real problems — from an operator running \~50 units in Torrington. New pieces straight to your inbox. 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