A Trip to Tiny Doll House with Steak Diane
Inside a miniatures heaven on the Upper East Side.
Earlier this month at the E.A.T. x agnès b. party, I caught up with Todd Heim, also known as Steak Diane, the martini-loving drag hostess with a home goods line of the same name. He told me he was recently in the area visiting Tiny Doll House, a store on the Upper East Side that sells hundreds of miniature items, which he uses to make his signature tablescape ornaments. “Wait, that sounds so fun,” I said. “Can we go together sometime??”
Todd’s ornaments had only been on sale at Fredericks and Mae, the store his husband co-owns, for about a week, but they’d already sold out, and he planned to come uptown again soon. So we made a date, stopping at E.A.T. for two bowls of matzoh ball soup on Tuesday before heading over to Tiny Doll House in search of the miniature version of our meal.
Owned by former attorney Leslie Edelman, who also has a background in interior design, the shop was originally founded by a couple who opened it in 1988 at a different location. Leslie took the reigns about 35 years ago. “My hobby became a passion, which became a business,” he likes to say. He got the bug after building a dollhouse for one of his nieces.
After being in Tiny Doll House for just a few minutes, I declared that I, too, was ready to quit journalism and live in the land of miniatures full-time. I actually recognized one of the dollhouses I used to own on display and was hurdled back to a simpler time. I remember building it with my dad, who was an architect, and a family friend with an incredible dollhouse collection helped me furnish it. Below is a letter I wrote her (we called her Grandma Ruth), which I think qualifies as my first gift guide.
The shop itself is also tiny but filled to the gills with anything you can possibly imagine in miniature form. On one side are handmade pieces behind glass, arranged in various scenes, like a Victorian living room and an artist’s studio, and on the other are manufactured pieces, which are still incredibly detailed. Todd was most interested in the food for his tablescapes, and we found everything from a miniature platter of latkes to a miniature crab boil to a miniature bento box. I even found a miniature Whole Foods bag to put it all in.
These pieces are not toys; they’re little works of art sourced from all over the world, and while any kid would be in heaven in Tiny Doll House, it’s a place where adults can run wild, too. On the day we visited, a woman came in searching for a mini washer-dryer—something most New Yorkers can only dream about having in their actual homes. Customers take their dollhouse real estate just as seriously. Leslie has said he’s even had customers come in with their interior designers to select wallpapers and floor coverings. He’s also had people request “everything from teeny-weeny garlic presses to caskets.”
Todd invited me to curate my own dream ornament, and I chose a mini martini set and a mini lobster for my table. I was also tempted to buy a mini toilet paper holder for my real-life desk, but these things are not cheap. Some of the artisanal miniatures can go for over $1,000.
The finished product made me squeal with glee. I’m going to Fredericks and Mae to pick it up today, and you should run over there now as well if you want to snag one of Todd’s ornaments before they’re gone. A portion of the proceeds from the store’s annual handmade ornaments sale will go to Transanta, a non-profit that delivers gifts to trans youth in need. The ceramic Dorito ornament is also pretty great, but be warned: It’s life-size.
RELATED:
