Amy Sedaris Stays In West Village, Buys $1.3 M. Co-Op

Funny lady Amy Sedaris appears to have an ambivalent relationship with New York City.

On the one hand, she seems to appreciate the little urban conveniences that you can't find anyplace else--for instance, last October, she told The Observer about her "good memories" of getting pot delivered to her house--but will just as quickly complain about the noise pollution from the West Village Halloween Parade.

Back in October, she complained to New York magazine “that the people who we moved [to the city] to get away from are coming here and changing it — and not for the best.”

She also said that “paying over $2,000 for a one-bedroom apartment” makes someone a New Yorker. By those criteria, Ms. Sedaris no longer makes the cut, but the comedienne is not leaving Manhattan, or even the West Village for that matter, just her rental building on Christopher Street—where the average rent for an apartment is $2,850, according to StreetEasy.

Ms. Sedaris has paid $1.3 million for a one-bedroom co-op at 50 West 9^th Street, city records show. Corcoran listed the 9,000-square-foot apartment in a pre-war brownstone off Fifth Avenue, calling it a “fabulous one-of-a-kind apartment full of original detail and pre-war charm.”

Her new digs retain original beamed ceilings; wood-burning fireplaces in both the bedroom and living room; and a den that can double as a second bedroom or a formal dining area.

According to Corcoran, “This is truly a spectacular apartment.”

It better be, because Ms. Sedaris paid above the $1.25 million asking price. Apparently, even in a shaky real estate market, a girl with a sparkling sense of humor and notable family tree—her brother is writer David Sedaris—can’t catch a break.

But at least she’ll have two real, wood-burning fire-places this time. The New York Times wrote about her old apartment that was decorated by her friend, designer Todd Oldham. Mr. Oldham surrounded the fake fireplace with “plywood cabinets and bookshelves, which he peppered with cutouts of wood-grain shelf paper, a deadpan ode to suburban rec rooms.”