HOW IS GEN Z BUYING APARTMENTS AND TURNING REAL ESTATE MARKETING UPSIDE DOWN?

A thirty-year-old buying an apartment is a peculiar creature. One foot firmly on the ground, the other very much in the digital world. It’s a generation that played outside as kids, but grew up to the rhythm of early messaging apps and social media platforms. 

So they walk into a developer’s sales office with a phone in hand and, with them… a virtual entourage: an influencer recommending minimalism, a chatbot advising on the functional layout of the flat, and a dog who, although weighing barely two kilos, will also need its own relaxation zone in the new place. 

The apartment is a home office, a gym, a mini studio for recording Reels, a gaming zone, a refuge after a hard week and, in the evenings, a home cinema with favourite streaming platforms. Gen Z arrange their apartments as if they were designing a stage set for their own life. They choose flats with a bit of a wink, as if it were a test apartment, a beta version: “We’ll see if I feel good here. If I do, I’ll stay. If not, I’ll move two stops down the line where the cafés and restaurants are better.” 

Young people’s apartments are usually smaller but much more thought-through. Furniture is multifunctional. The sofa unfolds in three different ways, the desk turns into a gaming station after hours. The table is for working, eating and displaying plants which – crucially – have to look good in the frame. Because Instagram has shown us beautiful interiors of ordinary people from all over the world, and telling a story about yourself on social media has become for many not just a pastime, but a form of existence and a way to earn money. 

And if someone has a dog or cat – watch out! That’s where the real creativity festival begins: special climbing shelves, hidden litter boxes, drawers for pet food, scratching posts so cleverly incorporated that they don’t clash with the idea of a cohesive interior. Pets are often the first “children” of young families. 

Whereas in the past the kitchen was a place you stood in to cook, for big-city Gen Z it often serves more as a backdrop. Nobody is particularly bothered about the size of the oven, because food delivery apps are used more often than the convection setting. But the worktop has to look great – so you can put a bowl of ramen on it and take a photo in perfect lighting. 

Young people’s apartments don’t say “this is where I’ll stay”, they say: “this is my current phase”. It might be a hybrid-work phase, a cat phase, a phase with a partner, a phase without a partner, a phase with a new console, a phase of dreaming about life in Bali. You can complain that these apartments are too small, too white, too Instagrammable. But there is something disarming about them: they are a declaration of freedom. This is a space not for displaying adulthood, but for easing gently into it. Without pressure – but with a good cup of tea. 

People under 35 already account for one quarter of everyone planning to buy an apartment. Their needs will redefine the rules of the game. Gen Z-ers have limited borrowing capacity and face high prices, but at the same time expect what, for them, is standard: smart-home technology, eco-friendly solutions, a low carbon footprint and flexibility – in both financing and location. They don’t get attached to a single district, they test different scenarios and choose spaces that are practical, thoughtful and accessible. They push developers to deliver environmental certificates, coworking zones, sustainable technologies and the kind of aesthetic they know from social media. This is a generation that doesn’t buy extra square metres “just in case”, but quality and functionality. 

So how do you design a communication strategy for a development aimed at Gen Z? 

Build a unique identity for the place.
Today’s developments can’t have random branding; they need a concept that tells a story. The story of the place, the vibe of the neighbourhood, the people who make it what it is. It’s worth putting the spotlight on local heroes. The project name should mean something, be rooted and have its own symbolism, while the leading theme sets the rhythm for the entire narrative. Thanks to this, the estate stops being an anonymous address. It becomes a brand with character, one future residents can emotionally align with and want to identify with. 

Sell a lifestyle, not just square metres.
Project visualisations need to be realistic and believable – like a visual story that lets people imagine a new life in that place. Beyond standard shots of the building from different angles, they should show scenes from everyday life. After all, choosing an apartment always carries a bit of aspiration: we’re buying not only square metres, but a vision of who we want to be and how we want to live. 

Lean into video formats.
For today’s thirty-somethings, YouTube has become a huge, free search engine for knowledge and a way of verifying reality. That’s where they look for independent opinions (just think of the Kanał Zero phenomenon). They are radically pragmatic: before they buy a drill, a phone or a car, they’ll watch three videos from “someone they trust”. Real estate is no exception. 

Check what’s being said about your brand.
If you want to control your image, you need to know what AI is “saying” about you. 

Think audio, too.
The younger generation listens to podcasts everywhere: in the car, at the gym, walking the dog. On the project website, it’s worth adding short audio pieces about the area, the history of the place or a conversation with the architect explaining the design assumptions. It’s a format that builds trust and gives a sense of “going behind the scenes”. 

Surprise them with creative actions that work locally as well.
Gen Z loves brands that do things, not just talk. A construction-site fence doesn’t have to be covered with a repeating logo; it can become an urban gallery like the East Side Gallery in Berlin, a space for local artists, a map of the neighbourhood’s micro-stories or a canvas for an illustration contest. You can install a sculpture that gives the district a new symbolic code. Or create a neighbourhood guide with recommendations for the best cafés and hangouts. That’s how you create an emotional anchor that makes the development part of the city, not a project floating above it.