I would, however, buy his renovated farmhouse in the Hamptons had I an extra $8.8 million kicking around.
It's borderline residential perfection. See the entire slideshow here. And drool a little.
If I come into a massive fortune in the next little while and then suddenly disappear, you can assume I'm sitting on that porch, scribbling away at a novel. Maybe sipping tea. If it's after this coming Sunday,* that tea might be coffee. If I'm not there, I'm hanging out in the artist's studio, creating something amazing and top-secret.
*I'm assuming it will be. Or else I'll be indoors. New York isn't the tropics. The porch will have to wait until I'm warm.
To those who've scoffed at my dreams of farmhouse living, I hope you're happy living in your sterile characterless condos.
The rest of you are welcome to crash at my new place. I'll make you omelets for breakfast.
(The only deal-breaker would be a lack of laundry room. I'm assuming there is one, but it's not listed. My dream house has laundry. Non-negotiable.)
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3 comments:
Oh, my gosh! That place is gorgeous! Why would he ever want to sell it? I'm drooling just looking at it!
Kind of reminds me of 'Stepford wives' neighbourhood.
Sarah, I think he wants to make a profit. He's selling it for at least 4x more than what he bought it for only a few years ago. Greedy Gere. What would the Dalai Lama think?
Alvin, I pretty much want to be a Stepford wife. Without the whole brainwashing/robotic thing.
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