Untouched for a century, this flat is one of over 100 private and public buildings on show in the city's first Open House weekend. Emma Cullinan reports.

FAMILIES don't tend to leave their apartments in the Iveagh buildings in the centre of Dublin. Since they were built just over 100 years ago, many of the homes have been passed down through generations. It's easy to see why they want to stay: the location is great, the apartments are well managed (by the Iveagh Trust) with staff on site around the clock and the rents are good (from about €40-€80 a week for a two-bed apartment).

The result is a stable community and a sense of ownership, says Gene Clayton, general manager.

One family who moved in when the Iveagh buildings in Bride Street were completed in 1905 were the Molloys. Nellie Molloy was born there and lived in apartment number 3, overlooking Bride Street, until she died in 2002.

It was then that the Iveagh Trust decided to keep her apartment as a museum piece because, in all the years that the family lived in it, it was never remodelled, as surrounding apartments were. People can visit this home by request or as part of the Open House festival.

The Iveagh Buildings are remarkable, architecturally and historically. The complex is one of the finest examples of Edwardian architecture in Dublin.

There was not a lot of building in Ireland at this time and central Dublin was plagued by slum conditions. Many of the best examples of Edwardian architecture are in the suburbs - where people escaped from the city centre - and are to be found in places such as Ranelagh and Dún Laoghaire.

It was Edward Cecil Guinness - the first Earl of Iveagh - who created this Edwardian gem right in the heart of Dublin.

This was the era before the provision of council housing and philanthropic business owners provided homes for less well-off workers, notably in England, with companies such as Rowntree, Cadbury and Sunlight soap creating whole villages. It was more rare in Ireland but Edward Guinness commissioned housing in Dublin (and London).

Slums with narrow streets that had descended from medieval times were knocked down to make way for the new housing.

Along with the homes, a hostel, crèche and baths (now a high-end health club) were also provided, although the latter two were sold off by the Iveagh Trust due to dwindling funds.

The homes were specifically for the poorest of workers and comprised a livingroom, complete with a stove and two bedrooms. The toilets were on the landing and were shared with other apartments on the same floor. Baths were taken in the bath house.

Over the years the Iveagh Trust updated the homes and reconfigured them so that bathrooms could be incorporated, but Nellie always refused offers of refurbishment saying that she was happy with the way things were.

The result is a museum piece - and Miranda Iveagh, who sits on the board of the Iveagh Trust, donated the money to buy Nellie's furnishings. The apartment is reached by a thin stairway with original blue and white tiles up to dado level.

Number 3 has a brown door with a modest brass letter box high up (and post still arrives here).

Inside is a neat room lined with an amazing amount of furniture that whisks you back into recent history. There's the treadle Singer sewing machine, a piano, and Larbert Range in the fireplace, complete with a traditional iron that is heated by the stove.

All of this was being used right up until 2002, when music was provided by 78s, helpfully listing the type of rhythms you were going to get: Fox Trot says one record and One Step promises the other.

The record player is in a cabinet beneath a large Pilot radio that looks as if it dates from the 1930s.

The flowery wallpaper is adorned with family photos, including one of Sgt Major Henry John Molloy, and a picture of the Archbishop of St Louise, Dr Glennon.

THE religious iconography continues in the front bedroom, in the form of plenty of pictures plus a statue of both Jesus on the cross and Mary.

A dresser carries old bottles of perfume including a small blue glass bottle of Bourjois scent called Evening in Paris, translated helpfully in small print to Soir de Paris. While the pieces are all flowery and feminine there are touches of design classics - showing that these permeated many houses at the time - including Thonet-style bentwood chairs and a Bauhaus-style red metal wall-light.

The second bedroom includes the cooker and a rail halfway along the room allows the iron bed to be screened by curtains. An enamel wash-stand, complete with matching jug, is a reminder of the lack of running water in the apartment.

Yet, while there is still a gas mantel on the wall, electricity was one mod con that Nellie had installed. She even put a fluorescent light up in the livingroom, across the existing ceiling rose.

There is a framed Domestic Science Certificate on the livingroom wall that Nellie received in 1924 attesting to her home-keeping skills but she surely never imagined that everything she lived with would be part of a museum to a Dublin lifestyle that is fast disappearing.