Caitlin and Samuel Dowe-Sandes live in New York City's once infamous Hell's Kitchen, just north and west of Times Square, but their tiny one-bedroom apartment is more like a jewel box than a jail. Antique furniture and Persian rugs are complemented by original art on the walls. A vintage yellow icebox opens to reveal liqueurs, whiskeys and port glasses. On top sits the couple's decanter collection. This one is Danish, 1890s; these two are French, 1920s. Duke Ellington's jazz floats from the bedroom, and Sam's latest purchase, a gold jacquard smoking jacket, hangs behind the door. Caitlin, an ad copywriter for Bon Appetit, stirs the polenta, while Sam, who works with a caterer favored by fashion shoots, serves goat cheese on pizza bianca. The two have a dinner party at least three times a month. "Never pasta and red sauce," chides Samuel, who prefers stuffed trout or nicoise salad.
The possessions and the ambiance suggest a couple at prosperous midlife. But Sam and Caitlin have been married just three weeks. They are all of 25. In a society where House & Garden and This Old House are staples, it's not surprising that homemaking is hot. What is startling is that twentysomethings are more and more the converts to and trendsetters of nesting. Weary of kicking up their heels, they have turned to settling in with the same zeal they once gave barhopping.
In an unstable, unloyal, technologically isolating world, it's the solid values, sturdy connections and safe harbors of yesteryear that resonate. Dinner parties are better than dance clubs, and settling down beats swinging free. "I'm amazed at how quickly I went from the bar culture to intimate dinner parties," says Mark Toft, 26, a writer who lives in St. Louis, Mo., with his wife Beth. "Nesting means you get to trade a crazy public space for a place where you can define who you are."
What's happened? For three decades the twentysomething years were marked with arch abandon, each generation extending playtime a little longer. Not so long ago, this was the time for visits to nightclubs, apartments decorated with listing-board bookcases and taped posters, and rendezvous with the one--or the second or the third--who was about to get away. Now, rather suddenly, this generation dreams of Pottery Barn, slipcovered sofas and tuna-noodle surprise. "I read cookbooks," admits Angela Lee, 27, a New York teacher. "And my last five social occasions? I cooked and friends came over."
Pollsters, trend watchers and merchants are convinced that couples are getting married earlier than a few years ago. Bette Kahn, spokeswoman for Crate & Barrel, and Donata Maggipinto, director of food and entertainment for Williams-Sonoma, say the brides being listed on their registries are younger. Carolyn Campbell, owner of Los Angeles' Wedding Library, which serves thousands of brides, says their average age in 1990 was 27; today it's 24. Notes Marci Blum, a New York wedding consultant: "I look around the room and think, 'You should be in high chairs!'"