It never felt generic or overdesigned. It felt distinctive.
A Mount Eden loft once shaped by the rhythms of footwear manufacturing — and later by the creative life of a fashion designer — has passed quietly into new hands, bypassing the formality of auction. Julia Ford and her husband Paul sold their converted shoe factory apartment on Akiraho Street to expat New Zealanders living in Vietnam, who found it online and recognised in its industrial bones and curated interior something worth returning home for. The sale, concluded within 48 hours by private treaty, speaks to the enduring pull of distinctive inner-city spaces and the way a well-lived home can reach across oceans to find its next stewards.
- Expat buyers in Vietnam spotted the listing the moment it went live and moved quickly, compressing what might have been weeks of open homes and auction theatre into just two days of negotiation.
- A family member flew in to inspect the property in person, bridging the distance between an online impression and a binding commitment — the due diligence of people making a serious leap.
- The planned auction was rendered unnecessary when the offer came in strong enough to satisfy all parties, with the rateable value sitting at $1.3 million and the final price left undisclosed.
- For the Fords, the urgency was quieter but no less real — a daughter born two years ago had gently outgrown the loft's industrial geometry, nudging the family toward a new chapter.
- The sale lands as a small signal of Auckland's continued resonance with overseas Kiwis, and of the market premium that accrues to homes with genuine character and a coherent story behind them.
Julia Ford's Mount Eden loft never reached auction. Within 48 hours of negotiations with a couple based in Vietnam — who had discovered the Akiraho Street property online and been drawn to its converted warehouse character — Ford and her husband Paul agreed to sell by private treaty. A family member flew in to inspect the apartment in person, approved it, and an offer followed that agents Stephanie Chan and Habeeb Urrahman of Ray White described as strong enough to make the auction redundant. The rateable value stood at $1.3 million; the sale price was not disclosed. All parties, Chan said, were happy.
The apartment carried a quiet historical symmetry. Ford had begun her career in 2011 as the first employee of shoe designer Kathryn Wilson. The building she was now leaving had itself once been a shoe factory, part of the old manufacturing hum of Arch Hill and Eden Terrace. Wilson had even lived there at one point. Ford described it as the kind of place where people would mention, in passing, that a friend had once called it home.
The Fords had bought the loft in 2016, drawn by its proximity to the city's social pulse — cafes, pubs, live music all within walking distance. Over the years they made it entirely their own: upgraded bathrooms and kitchen with careful tile work and brass fixtures, a design studio for Ford's fashion label LeDoré, a sound studio for Paul's music. When their daughter Isamaya arrived two years ago, they enclosed an open mezzanine with steel windows and painted it terracotta to serve as a nursery.
What Ford valued most was the apartment's ease — its low-maintenance, lock-and-leave quality that suited a life of work, travel, and creative busyness. But that stage was closing. The loft, she reflected, had always felt distinctive rather than generic, a space with soul that they had shaped and now would hand on — to expat Kiwis in Vietnam who had seen something in the photographs and decided, from a distance, to come home to it.
Julia Ford's Mount Eden loft never made it to auction. Two days of negotiation with a couple living in Vietnam—who had spotted the property online and fallen for its converted warehouse bones—was enough to convince her and her husband Paul that they had found their buyer. The three-bedroom apartment on Akiraho Street, with its soaring double-height ceilings and industrial soul, went to private treaty instead.
The buyers had seen the listing when it first appeared. What caught their eye wasn't just the raw architecture of the old shoe factory, now transformed into a sleek inner-city home. It was the life that Ford and Paul had built inside it—the carefully curated art, the collector's pieces, the meticulous renovations. And yes, the walk-in wardrobe that Ford had designed to hold ninety pairs of shoes, though she admitted only her "B-squad" was currently on display; the rest lived in storage elsewhere. A family member flew in to see the place in person, gave it approval, and an offer followed. Stephanie Chan, the Ray White agent handling the sale alongside Habeeb Urrahman, told OneRoof that the number was strong enough to make the planned auction unnecessary. The property had carried a rateable value of $1.3 million, though the actual sale price remained undisclosed. Everyone, Chan said, was satisfied with the outcome.
There was a neat symmetry to the sale. Ford had started her career in 2011 as the first employee of shoe designer Kathryn Wilson. The building she and Paul were now leaving had once been a shoe factory itself, part of an era when the Arch Hill and Eden Terrace area thrummed with footwear manufacturing. Wilson had even lived in the building years ago. Ford spoke of it as one of those places where people would pass through and say, "Oh, I had a friend who lived here back in the day." The couple had bought the loft in 2016, drawn to the inner-city proximity—the ability to walk to cafes, pubs, and shows, to live close to the pulse of things.
But two years ago, their daughter Isamaya was born, and the calculus of home shifted. A converted factory loft, however beautiful, however low-maintenance, was no longer the right fit for a growing family. Ford and Paul had made the space entirely their own. They had upgraded both bathrooms and the kitchen with careful tile work, mirrors, and brass fixtures. One bedroom became Ford's design studio for her own fashion brand, LeDoré—named after her middle name. At one point, Paul had claimed the space as a sound studio to make albums. When Isamaya arrived, they enclosed a previously open mezzanine with steel windows to create a third bedroom, painting it in warm terracotta to serve as a nursery.
What Ford loved most about the apartment was its ease. "Between working, running businesses, travelling, and juggling busy schedules, having a home that's genuinely low-maintenance and completely lock-and-leave has been perfect for our stage of life," she said. But that stage was ending. The loft had never felt generic or overdesigned, she reflected. It had always been distinctive, a clean and versatile backdrop they could make their own. It had felt safe and solid, full of soul. Now it would belong to someone else—to expat Kiwis in Vietnam who had seen something in those photographs and decided to come home to it.
Citações Notáveis
Between working, running businesses, travelling, and juggling busy schedules, having a home that's genuinely low-maintenance and completely lock-and-leave has been perfect for our stage of life.— Julia Ford, on why the loft worked for them—and why they're moving on
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did the buyers move so fast? What made them certain enough to skip the auction?
They'd already seen the story online and fallen for the space. When a family member could visit in person and confirm what the photos promised, they knew. Sometimes the right property and the right buyer just align.
The wardrobe with ninety pairs of shoes—was that a selling point or just a detail?
It was both. It showed how the owners had lived in the space, how they'd customized it to their lives. The buyers weren't just buying a loft; they were buying proof that it could be a home, not just a property.
Why does it matter that this was a converted shoe factory and she worked in shoes?
It's the kind of detail that makes a place feel less like real estate and more like a story. The building had history. Ford had history in that world. The new owners would be buying into something with texture, not just square footage.
They're moving because of the baby. Is that the real story here?
It's part of it. But the bigger story is how quickly a well-presented, distinctive property can find the right buyer—especially when that buyer is someone who's been watching from overseas, waiting to come home.