If you’re wondering which House is storming the Yard in green bikinis and tiny Speedos, it’s Currier, and they’ll make sure you know it. Many Currierites have immense House pride—House rankings what?—and easily laugh off any disparaging remarks made about their beloved home. They know that Currier is probably not anyone’s first choice, but sophomores quickly learn to love, fear, or at least respect the tree—Timete Arboreum, or Fear the Tree, is the House slogan. There are plenty of reasons to love Currier, from its solarium suites to its tight-knit community, but at the end of the day it’s a Quad House, and not everyone can roll with suburban life.

For those who like having their own space, Currier has plenty of singles, because ugh, who wants walkthroughs as a senior? Currier has this advantage over quite a few of the River Houses (sorry, Lowell). Sophomores tend to populate Daniels Hall, one of the House’s four towers, but room set-ups are pretty consistent all three years, as most Currierites live in off-the-hall singles attached by a sink room, with bathrooms and common rooms in the hallway.

Other set-ups consist of two-bedroom triples with a common room and ensuite bathroom, but if you want a suite, know that there are only ten of them total in the House.

Senior housing is where Currier can get really special. There are three 13-person penthouse suites on the fifth floor of three of the four towers, and honestly, they are absolutely sick. Each “solarium” is made of up of singles with balconies, and an airy and beautiful common room with its own wraparound balcony and some of the best views in the Quad.

There's also the famed Currier Ten-Man, a suite of ten singles around a cavernous common room. The elevator opens right up into the room, which comes with a bar, and hosts the “Heaven” in Currier’s annual “Heaven and Hell” party.

House spirit in Currier is alive and kicking, and almost all Currierites attribute this to the design of their House, which has one main front entrance so everyone sees each other on their way in and out. And because so few people have common rooms, a lot of people spend their time in the dhall or Lower Main, a common area with study carrels, foosball, and TVs. Think SOCH-style living, but something that people actually use.

Currier also houses the Fishbowl, which is a sizable common area and the “Hell” in the annual Halloween “Heaven and Hell” party. During the year, it’s where most Stein Clubs and House watch parties for the Oscars and Superbowl happen, and because everyone has to pass by on their way in and out, most people pop by the events and grab a beer.

Students adore the house staff—House Administrator Patricia G. Pepper, who is affectionately known as PGP, is so loved that a reading room in the House is named the “PGP Room.” Building Manager Manny J. Casillas is described as a lifesaver, and there have been boozy, 21+, appreciation brunches for the House tutors. The House Masters are kind of just there, and don’t really add as much to House Life as other Masters do, but hey, it’s to be expected—we can’t all have D&D.

Currier has 52 kitchens. Fifty-two. If you ever felt the desire to cook on campus, all you’d need to do is turn around in Currier and you’d be face to face with a stove. Some say it’s excessive, others probably wouldn’t disagree.

Currier is also completely connected underground, which is clutch for those cold wintry days. “We’re a slipper and bathrobe house,” said Pepper proudly. No more putting on layers to go the dhall for brain break and hot cocoa.

Currier is one of the younger and more modern Houses, and while that means that it doesn’t have the ivy-covered feel of some of its compatriots by the river, its lack of cockroaches and its working plumbing (oh, the pipes burst in Dunster, again?!) is going to be huge plus to anyone who has seen one emerge from a sink. Think about how gross that is. So gross.

Unsurprisingly, Currier’s not-so-hot rep stems largely from the fact that it’s so far away. But many Currierites don’t see this as a problem, and claim to enjoy their suburban surroundings and the daily commute. This is understandably not ideal for everyone.

Perhaps the most important gripe specific to Currier is its lack of common rooms. The absence of private rooms makes it difficult to find a place to hang out without commandeering a friend’s bedroom, and blocking groups who pick a solarium and especially the Ten-Man have an implicit obligation to throw parties for the House.

Smaller issues Currierites have are the décor and color scheme of the House, as well as its harsh exterior. Some have said the dhall feels like a “retirement home,” and the SOCH-like décor doesn’t have quite the same charm as Dunster’s dark wood panelling.

Then again, singles and space and modern plumbing. Yay Currier?