By Sophie Whittaker, Managing Director, Austin Maynard Architects
There is a spreadsheet trap that has plagued the Australian multi-residential sector for decades. It goes like this: identify the most statistically "safe" apartment type—usually a generic 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom box—and copy-paste it 50 times across a concrete grid.
Banks and conservative valuers love this monoculture because it looks like peak efficiency. It streamlines construction, simplifies the plumbing stack, and gives the marketing agency a single, easy-to-digest demographic to target.
But as a former developer, I know what happens in the real world. Building a monolithic block of identical apartments is a massive commercial risk. By designing for a single demographic, you artificially narrow your buyer pool. When the market shifts, or when that specific demographic dries up, your sales stall, your holding costs skyrocket, and your senior debt becomes a noose.
At Austin Maynard Architects, we design for the exact opposite outcome. We believe that true commercial bankability and genuine community building are entirely symbiotic—and both rely on a radical diversity of housing product.
Here is why mixing your apartment typologies doesn't just engineer a better neighborhood; it fundamentally de-risks your sales.
When you build a development consisting entirely of identical apartments, you create a social and commercial monoculture.
If a building only has expensive three-bedroom penthouses, it becomes an exclusive enclave of wealthy downsizers. If it only has compact one-bedroom units, it operates like a transient hotel for young professionals and short-term renters. In both scenarios, the building lacks the friction, vibrancy, and incidental support networks of a real neighborhood. It lacks a soul.
Commercially, the monoculture forces you to compete against yourself. If you release 40 identical 2-bedroom apartments to the market at once, you are flooding your own micro-economy. Buyers have no urgency to commit because there are 39 other identical options available in the same building.
"You don't just sell out faster because you offer different price points; you sell out faster because humans inherently want to live in a vibrant, diverse neighborhood, not a sterile dormitory."
De-risking off-the-plan sales requires capturing the widest possible cross-section of the market. When Andrew and Mark designed Terrace House and ParkLife, they deliberately included a highly complex mix of housing types.
They included expansive, three-bedroom family homes. They included standard one and two-bedroom apartments. But crucially, they also introduced the Teilhaus—spatially brilliant micro-apartments that optimize awkward floorplate areas to maximize total project yield, while providing an accessible entry point for single-income households, independent buyers, and essential workers who are typically ignored by the traditional market.
By diversifying the product, we diversified the sales funnel. We weren't reliant on just one buyer profile. If the investor market cooled, our owner-occupier downsizers kept the sales ticking. If families were hesitant, the Teilhaus units drove momentum. This intentional variety is a primary reason why both of these projects achieved 100% sell-outs before construction commenced.
When you offer distinct, varied floorplans, you create scarcity within the development. A buyer isn't choosing one of fifty identical boxes; they are securing the only 3-bedroom, north-facing terrace in the building. Scarcity drives urgency.
The commercial benefits of diverse floorplans are immediate, but the long-term impact on the community is profound.
A healthy, resilient suburb naturally contains a mix of people: grandparents, young couples, single creatives, and noisy toddlers. A healthy apartment building should be no different. When you mix a 3-bedroom family apartment next to a 1-bedroom Teilhaus, you mix demographics.
This is where the architecture actively engineers social cohesion. The retiree in the 2-bedroom apartment becomes friends with the young family down the hall. The single professional connects with the established couple on the communal roof deck. Diverse housing types create a genuine "vertical village" where residents support one another, share resources, and form long-term bonds.
We are implementing this exact philosophy at scale with our current and upcoming projects, like Hope & Autumn and Thornbury House. We prioritize diverse housing mixes because we know that a building filled with different types of people is inherently safer, friendlier, and more commercially resilient than a building filled with identical demographics.
For developers, the ultimate realization is that community and commerce are not competing interests. They are deeply intertwined.
In today's highly researched market, buyers are looking for more than just a floorplan; they are looking for a place to belong. When a project is designed to foster a diverse, inclusive community, it generates organic word-of-mouth marketing. It creates a waiting list of buyers who want to buy into the culture of the building, not just the concrete.
The era of copy-pasting the "optimal" floorplan is over. If we want to solve the housing crisis, build better urban environments, and clear our presale hurdles with speed, we have to design for everyone.
Stop building dormitories. Start building communities.