Some say it's the house for athletes and big parties. Others complain there are too many men. But most agree that Currier House is ugly.

And despite its firm reputation as a social house, nobody wants to live there.

"We were number 404 out of 405 in the housing lottery," says Katherine D. Veazey '95. "At first we were shocked, all we could do was laugh. We found out later that a lot of friends of ours were in the house. That made it better."

Once they get there, though, many residents seem to want to stay.

"I'm very happy," Veazey says. "Now Currier is my favorite house not just because I live here, but if you go to other houses...nothing compares."

Indeed, first-years may travel the involuntary route of randomization to Currier, but there are twice as many attempts to transfer into the house as there are out of it, says Patricia G. Pepper, the assistant to the master.

A Colossus of Cinder Block

Unlike the ivy-covered colonial buildings that most of the undergraduates at Harvard enjoy, Currier is a colossus of cinder block.

But residents are quick to defend the house against such critics of aesthetics, saying that what Currier lacks in physical attractiveness it makes up for in the friendliness of the people.

Currier has at least two unique features that give the house a social feel: a single entry and a 10-person suite that occupies an entire hall of the building.

The lone entryway gives residents a certain housewide familiarity other houses simply can't offer.

"Because of the common entryway everyone gets to know each other," says Tacho Sandoval '93.

On the other hand, that familiarity, considered with the fellow Currier House residents working the bell desk 24 hours, means the single entry can lead to a lack of privacy.

"With someone always there, and the phone sitting right next to them, people walk by and the phone starts ringing. "It's gossip heave," says one senior in the house who requested anonymity.

Any then there's he "10-man."