Rose McGowan Leaving Los Feliz

SELLER: Rose McGowan
LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $1,849,000
SIZE: 4,278 square feet, 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Yesterday, while sipping an ice cold gin & tonic scoping out all the new listings in The City of Angels we ran across a particularly fetching abode in the Los Feliz area that set off all of Your Mama’s highly-tuned celebrity real estate sensors. A short spin through the interweb and a few ringy-dingy’s on our bedazzled Princess phone turned up two snitches who confirmed the house, listed with an asking price of $1,849,000, belongs to sultry actress, Boston Terrier advocate and sartorial daredevil Rose McGowan.

For better or worse and likely much to her chagrin, Miss McGowan will likely go down in Your Mama’s (entirely subjective) version of Hollywood history for three things for which she might rather not be remembered: Her long-running role on that hare-brained tee-vee show about sister-witches Charmed, her 3.5 year relationship with Goth-rock provocateur Marilyn Manson and her sensationally ribald walk down the red carpet at the 1998 MTV Video Music Awards in little more than a handful of beads that did nothing to conceal neither her booty nor her boobies. In an inexplicable nod to modesty, some of the children may recall, Miss McGowan did sport a sparkling pair of beaded thong panties that covered her (probably hairless) baby maker. Nowadays the Miss McGowan works her thing a far less scurrilous but still vixenish Betty Page-inspired sort of style mirrored in the day-core choices made in her house.

Anyhoo, Miss McGowan hung on to Charmed until it went off the air in 2006. A few of her more recent professional engagements include Brian de Palma’s Black Dahlia, Quentin Tarantino’s double-feature Grindhouse, Fifty Dead Men Walking and a stint on the boob-toob program Nip/Tuck with the also happy-to-be-expose-my-kiester-on-television Julian McMahon. According to her resume on the Internet Movie Data Base, Miss McGowan will appear in three movies in 2011 including a in the action-babe flicks Conan the Barbarian and Red Sonja.

Property records show that Miss McGowan scooped up her walled and gated residence in the Los Feliz area of Los Angeles in July of 2004 for $1,850,000. That’s exactly one thousand dollars more that the property’s current price tag of $1,849,000. Even with a full price sale–an unlikely event in today’s still tough real estate times–Miss McGowan will be faced with a wham-blam to her pocketbook.

Old listing information Your Mama scared up out of the internets shows that Miss McGowan snapped up this house after just one day on the market. Listing information from that time also shows the house was priced at $1,749,000, which suggests that Miss McGowan paid about $100,000 more than the asking price. That was way back in 2004 when the market was sizzling. We doubt Miss McGowan will be so lucky but, chickens, iffin Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter were in the market for a nearly two-million smacker house in Los Feliz, we’d be all over this place lickety-split.

Listing information shows the muted coral-colored villa, an intriguing and exquisitely patinated melange of Spanish, Moroccan, Moorish and Andalusian architectural elements, was built in 1928 and spans 4,278 square feet. The house contains a total of 4 bedrooms–one located on the lower floor–and three bathrooms. Listing information indicates–but isn’t entirely clear–that one of the upstairs bedrooms may have been converted to a walk-in closet/dressing room for all of Miss McGowan’s many pairs of shoes and vintage dresses.

The front door, set dramatically into an elaborately carved stone threshold, opens into an impress-the-guests-style entrance hall with tile floor, double-height ceilings, stained glass window, decorative iron banister, minstrel’s balcony and a trio arched doorways that lead to the living, dining and family rooms.

The sizable and architecturally swoon-worthy but not cavernous living room has peg-and-groove hardwood floors, a high pitched ceiling with exposed trusses, carved stone fireplace, classic arched window and four sets of French doors the open into courtyard-like gardens. While it certainly won’t be to every one’s liking, Miss McGowan’s quirky personal style shines through in the living room that’s done up with moss colored velvet Art Deco furniture, shimmery orange curtains (a bold statement that Your Mama loves but isn’t fully effective here, and a burled wood credenza over which hangs an original lighted sign from the legendary Brown Derby restaurant that used to be at Hollywood and Vine. This may not be what we’d do with this house decoratively speaking but Your Mama would far more look at day-core that is an overt reflection of the occupant rather than to peep at the sterile decorative perfections that have been washed free of any personality and are often seen in most of the glossy shelter publications.

Miss McGowan wisely kept things basic in the nicely-proportioned formal dining room where a complicated geometric tile floor–that we hope and imagine is original to the house–takes center stage. The fab tile floor continues out a wide bank of French doors to a grassy and private part of the yard. A glorious and very shallow groin-vaulted ceiling graces the kitchen that opens to the dining room and is renovated in a manner that both preserved the original aesthetic of the house–note the lattice front lower cabinets–and added high-grade modern conveniences. The tile floor is an identical pattern to that in the dining room except with a tweaked color combination that swaps the red in the dining room for the yellow in the kitchen.

A family room with a coffered ceiling that mirrors the coffered detailing of the front door has hardwood floors, fireplace, built-in bookshelves filled with actual books–it seems Miss McGowan reads–and a big-ass flat screen tee-vee mounted on the wall above a streamlined Art Moderne cabinet. Like in the living room, Miss McGowan opted for Art Deco style furnishings–this time clean-lined black leather with white accents. Your Mama feels the room could benefit strongly from the introduction of a playful and richly colored antique Art Deco-style area rug with a rounder, more female pattern that plays off the hard edges of tile floors in the kitchen and dining room.

Miss McGowan’s boo-dwar includes a bedroom with wood floors and French doors that open to a covered balcony with beautifully lathed wood columns and a perfectly period Jack-and-Jill-style pooper with spectacular lavender and black tile and historically accurate (and possibly original) fixtures.

While there does not seem to be a single large expanse of outdoor space there are several intimate courtyard-style terraces and patios that ring the residence and provide plenty of room for Miss McGowan’s Boston Terriers or, perhaps, a couple of long bodied bitches like Your Mama and the Dr. Cooters‘ Linda and Beverly.

Miss McGowan’s Los Feliz home has a long list of celebrity neighbors who include January Jones (Mad Men), Jon Hamm (also from Mad Men), Laura Prepon (That 70s Show), director David Fincher (The Social Network, Fight Club). A bit farther away are all the celebs that line the streets of the gated Laughlin Park community who include preggers Natalie Portman (Black Swan), Patricia Arquette (Medium) and soon to be-exhubby Thomas Jane (Hung), pop star Natasha Bedingfield, Jenna and Bodhi Elfman, Casey Affleck and Summer Phoenix, and Black Eyed Pea will.i.am.

Previous to living in Los Feliz, Miss McGowan owned a Spanish-style casa in the historic Whiteley Heights ‘hood in Hollywood. That house, interestingly, has had a slew of subsequent celebrity owners. Records show that Miss McGowan sold the house in July of 2004 for $1,235,000 to actress Rachel Bilson (The O.C.). Miss Bilson quickly caught a case of The Real Estate Fickle and sold the house in December of 2005 to the dee-voon Busy Phillips (Cougar Town) for $1,349,000. As far as Your Mama knows Miss Bilson still owns and occupies an abode in Los Feliz records show she bought in the fall of 2006 for $1,880,000.

Miss Busy and her rom-com screenwriter husband Marc Silverstein (He’s Just Not That Into You) moved to bigger digs nearby they bought for $2,100,000 in March of 2008. In January of 2009 Miss Busy sold the 2,204 square foot house in the hills as a short sale for $1,075,000. We were told by the always knowledgeable informant Lucy Spillerguts that the house was acquired thespian turned tee-vee star Ginnifer Goodwin (Big Love) who recently became engaged to actor Joey Kern.

UK Government Policy Likely To Increase Bank Repossessions

Over the last three months we have heard nothing but bad news concerning the UK recession and with the conservative/lib dem government’s economic blinkers firmly in position, it’s anticipated that there will be a much higher rate of bank repossessions in the future as we nose-dive into an almost certain double dip recession. Today’s reports testify to their utter failure on economic policy. Mervyn King, governor of the Bank of England is reported as saying that, “One has to go back to the 1920s to find a time when real wages fell over a period of six years”. Wages are stuck in a rut (that’s if you have a job) and the cost of living is rising sharply, which means that in real terms our income is decreasing.

Read more on UK Government Policy Likely To Increase Bank Repossessions…

Comedy Writer Bruce Vilanch Lists Nichols Canyon Crib

SELLER: Bruce Vilanch
LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $1,150,000
SIZE: 2,399 square feet, 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Tinseltown is nothing if not a Botox-induced wrinkle-free fairyland of illusion and make-believe. It’s a wacky world in which oodles of beefy waiters drive Range Rovers and Maseratis paid for by their older man-friend benefactors and glammy middle-aged grandmothers have tramp stamps and porn star-style boobs. It should come as no surprise then that many of the entertainment industry’s most famous funny folks don’t actually write their own bon mots and witty repartee. For decades, the job of making celebs seem hilarious or, at least, droll has fallen to the Bruce Vilanch, a La-la Land legend who recently put his long-time Los Angeles, CA home on the market with an asking price of $1,150,000.

Think of Mister Vilanch as a kind of Wizard of Oz. He’s the man behind the curtain pulling the joke levers. His snappy way with words has earned him a special brand of fame. He was a regular on Hollywood Squares, lost 75 pounds on Celebrity Fit Club and he recently popped up on RuPaul’s Drag Race dressed as a somewhat slovenly Santa Claus. He even had a documentary made about him called Get Bruce!

The campy and disheveled appearing overweight homosexual–who typically sports Sally Jesse Rafael-style eyeglasses, ironic t-shirts and a tussled blond shag that he probably pays Sally Hershberger $800 to cut–clearly does not adhere to Hollywood’s rather limited perception of beauty that tends toward fake tans, fake pecs, fake lips and fake every damn thing that can be made fake. He is, none-the-less, a beloved, witty, charming, self-effacing, flamboyant, over-sized, over the top, sharp and funny funny funny showbiz treasure.

Mister Vilanch actually started out as a journalist, in Chicago. In the mid 1970s he somehow hooked up with Bette Midler and wrote her Clams on the Half Shell Revue for Broadway in 1974. He’s been penning ditties for The Divine Miss M ever since. He relocated to Los Angeles to write for the Brady Bunch Variety Hour–an idiotic but delightful piece of tee-vee trash, for sure–and was soon began to provide quips and funny bits for legendary entertainers and comedians who include Lily Tomlin, Billy Crystal, Roseanne Barr, Elizabeth Taylor, Dolly Parton, Donne and Marie Osmond, Barry Manilow, Paul Lynde, Betty White and Robin Williams. Since the late 1980s Miz Vilanch has written gags and what-have-you for the presenters and the hosts of the the Academy Awards and in 2000 he was named head writer of the self-congratulatory awards program. He has Emmy awards and nominations up the wazoo and a close examination of the listing photo of the living room turns up a couple Emmy statuettes up on the built-in entertainment center thingamabob in the living room.

It’s not clear when Mister Vilanch purchased his dingy-looking wood-sided post-and-beam home in the semi-rustic Nichols Canyon neighborhood in the Hollywood Hills but, according to someone Your Mama knows who’s friendly with Mister Vilanch, he’s lived in the house for decades. Listing information for the two-story cabin-style crib shows it contains 3 bedrooms and 3 poopers in 2,399 square feet.

The Mexican paver floors start in the entrance hall and continue into the living room that features an exposed wood beamed ceiling and a stone fireplace and is furnished with a pair of rose-colored swivel bucket chairs that make Your Mama’s heart come to a complete stop. And not in a good way, ramekins. Clearly and contradictory to common belief, as the children can see from this decorative hot mess, not every gay gets the decorating gene. Shiny copper-colored pillows on the tan sofa do not make up for the grievous error of the geometric rug. The worn pavers continue through the house to the ho-hum but far from horrid galley style kitchen complete with up-to-date stainless steel appliances, white-tile back splash, blue counter tops and sky light. Mister Vilanch’s kitchen in its current state ain’t going to win any style awards, but it’s 10-14 times better than all those over-wrought and over-corbeled “gourmet” kitchens they install in thousands upon thousands of suburban-y mock-Med mcmansions all over Los Angeles.

The stairs that lead from the upper to the lower floor are carpeted wall-to-wall but beige shag. Gawd. Your Mama loathes carpeted staircases. Unless you can afford to hire a minimum wage gurl whose only job is to fluff the shag on stairs, carpeted staircases just get nappy and matted and quickly look like nasty ol‘ crack house carpet. Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter are, in fact, gearing up to replace the nasty carpet that lines the stairs in our house. (Don’t blame us, chickens, it was there where we moved in.) The master bedroom, also with beige wall-too-wall carpeting, includes built-in cabinetry, a bank of sliding glass doors fitted with shoji screens for privacy and light modulation, and a built-in platform bed buried in a fur blanket and matching fur pillow shams. We know there are a lot of people who enjoy wrapping themselves in dead animal pelts, but Your Mama genuinely hopes those creepy bed things are faux.

The house opens to series of tree-shaded decks that hang over the bucolic seasonal crick that runs through Mister Vilanch’s canyon property. Say what you will about the somewhat distressed condition and questionable day-core of this house but how amazing is it to live right in the center of the damn city and have a crick run through your yard?

We’re not sure why after all these years Mister Vilanch has finally opted to pack up his whoopee cushions and move but Bruce, doll baby, Your Mama has a message for you: Please give us a shout when you get moved to your next crib and we’ll come help you pick out a sofa and dining room table because you can not–do your hear Your Mama?–you can not move all that crappity-crap-crap furniture to another house. Iffin you don’t want to deal with Your Mama–and we can understand why you might not want to–we sincerely hope you’ll utilize your deep connections in in West Hollywood to find and hire a nice, gay decorator who can do up your new house in a manor more befitting a man of your professional stature. We’re not saying you ought to occupy an Architectural Digest-ready superstar-style mansion in Beverly Hills like Jennifer Aniston. But even a more modest residence could benefit from the insane talents of a young gun color maverick like Rafael de Cárdenas who worked over the New York City apartments of supermodel Jessica Stam and indie film royal Parker Posey. We just think you need an exuberant and colorful house to match your exuberant and colorful personality.

listing photos: John Aaroe Group

Did Putin Get a Palace?

Did Russian’s Prime Minister Vladimir Putin get a pricey new palace that over looks the Black Sea?

It seems nobody knows for sure–or at least no government official will confirm–but a Russian biznessman named Sergei Kolesnikov who has professional ties to Mister Putin claims that a palatial residence under construction in the Black Sea resort town of Praskoveevka is being built with “dubious funds” for the personal use of Russia’s frequently shirtless and all but hairless prime minister Vladimir Putin.

Mister Putin’s press secretary, Dmitry Peskov, publicly declared that the prime minister has no connections to the obscenely large residence on the Black Sea but Mister Kolesnikov claims that Mister Putin regularly visited the site to supervise the construction and furnishing of the massive mansion.

After Mister Kolesnikov’s claims were made public a 2009 article materialized out of the interweb in which a journalist for Novaya Gazeta reported that he swam up to the beach behind the property and spoke to a construction worker who snitched that Prime Minister Putin visited the site regularly. It wasn’t long before an anonymous man who declared he worked on the construction of the building publicly alleged that many illegal Chinese workers were employed at the site. Oh dear.

After Mister Kolesnikov let the cat out of the bag about Mister Putin’s (alleged) new palace in Praskoveevka, a couple of photos taken by tourists surfaced that show the sprawling roof of the civic center-sized structure and the beach side entrance to a tunnel that (allegedly) leads up to the palace on the bluff above.

Finally, about a week ago a clandestine cache of photographs was leaked by an anonymous individual and posted on Ruleaks, a website that publishes Russian translations of documents posted on Wikileaks. The photos show a bulky and colossal Neoclassical structure built around a symmetrically designed interior courtyard ringed by arched colonnades.

Photos of the interior spaces show heavy and intricate architectural details that include lots of pilasters, hand-painted murals on the walls and ceilings, car-sized chandeliers, shiny marble floors with inlaid patterns, unrestrained gilding, heavy drapery, paneled and gilded walls, antique commodes, dining room sets and and desks that tend towards the Baroque. Prairie-sized terraces and formal gardens filled with topiary, surround the palace that reportedly includes a private casino, fitness spa, tea house, amphitheater and a pad for not just one but three helicopters.

While there’s a very real possibility this mansion does not belong to or in any way have anything to do with Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, what is clear is that there is still some serious money in the hands of oligarchs willing to spend a truly shocking and–let’s be honest chickens–scandalous billion bucks or more on a seaside vacation house.

photos: Ruleaks

Radio Hostess and Heiress Alexis Stewart Marks Down Penthouse Price

We know we’re a little late to the rodeo on this bit of real estate bizness it having already been discussed on Curbed. None the less, we’ve been following this real estate saga for some time and quite simply can’t control our impulse to weigh in on the matter. Plus we’re sort of smitten with the idiosyncratic pluck of radio hostess and heiress Alexis Stewart. Iffin you already know this crap and don’t want to hear about it again just move along like good little doggies and Your Mama will have another celebrity real estate bone for you soon.

With housekeeping honcho Martha Stewart’s radio co-host daughter Alexis ensconced in her elephantine triplex in one of the celebrity-packed Richard Meier towers on New York City’s bizzy bizzy bizzy West Side Highway, it seems she might finally be getting serious about unloading her previous penthouse pad located atop The Ice House building on TriBeCa’s North Moore Street.

Property records show Miss Stewart–presumably with some money from mommy–purchased her loft-like duplex penthouse at The Ice House in May of 1999 for $2,953,000. She first tried to sell the 3,884 square foot aerie in September of 2007 with an asking price of $12,400,000. Nine months after first appearing on the open market Miss Stewart’s apartment at The Ice House was taken off the market and seven months after that it was re-listed with a notably higher price tag of $12,950,000. By November of 2010 the price had plummeted to $10,450,000 and in mid-January 2011 Miss Stewart and her Real Estates slashed the asking price to $9,500,000. Perhaps finally selling her old penthouse is sassy Miss Stewart’s New Year’s resolution.

Miss Stewart’s real estate white elephant at The Ice House includes private elevator access, 2-3 bedrooms, 3.5 poopers, a living room with fireplace and dramatic pitched-glass ceiling, a gore-may kitchen even a domestic dervish like her mother Martha could appreciate and a 500+ square foot terrace. Listing information shows the common charges and taxes total $6,590 per month.

Miss Stewart’s current crib is a collection of contiguous apartments on three floors that were bought for a combined cost of around $35,000,000. No babies, that is not a error. Miss Stewart’s digs actually cost her–or, more likely, her mother–around thirty-five million smackers, a blood curdling amount of moolah that does not include the many millions more spent on the combination, renovation and decoration of the super-sized condo.

Miss Stewart’s penthouse at The Ice House was done up by nice, gay decorator–and Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia employee–Kevin Sharkey and although we have no inside information or hard evidence to prove it, Your Mama would bet our long bodied bitches Linda and Beverly that it was Mister Sharkey who did up the day-core at Miss Alexis’s new mansion in the Meier-designed tower.

Probably not coincidentally Mister Sharkey lives in a lavish spread in a recently-debuted-to-the-public apartment in the very same Richard Meier-designed building as Miss Stewart. While we’re having trouble sorting out the property records it appears to Your Mama that Mister Sharkey’s apartment is contiguous with Miss Stewart’s multi-unit spread and might actually be one of the five apartments purchased by Miss Stewart and (allegedly) paid for by her momma.

Among the many dazzling photos of Mister Sharkey’s apartment, one in particular caught Your Mama’s eye. The photo shows Mister Sharkey and Miss Stewart, both in cocktail party attire, sitting on the tile floor of a bathroom with a bathtub full of Veuve Clicquot champagne and a frameless glass shower stall stacked to the ceiling with dozens and dozens of iconic orange Hermès gift boxes. While we love love love the color orange and we adore all things Hermès, Your Mama just doesn’t understand the impulse of a certain kind of design queen who feels compelled to display Hermès gift boxes as if they are day-core. We happen to think Mister Sharkey is a talented and accomplished gentleman but bitch, pleeze. Really? The only reason we can conjure to explain why a person would use Hermès boxes as “day-core” is that they want to–as George says in Edward Albee’s brilliant play Who’s Afraid of Virginia–”impress the guests.” The whole thing is a little unseemly and, quite frankly, it’s even more unseemly to stack and “stash” dozens upon dozens of orange boxes in an all-glass shower in a feeble attempt to look like you don’t care that much about them even though their careful arrangement screams another something else entirely.

Say what you may about Big Bad Martha Stewart but for where Your Mama sits she’s an undeniably generous parent whose vast fortune allows her only daughter to live like a modern day tsarina and an unusually magnanimous (if notoriously persnickety) boss who pays at least one of her favored employees enough dough-ray-me to live in one of New York’s most illustrious and exceedingly expensive buildings.

We should all be so damn lucky.

floor plan: Prudential Douglas Elliman Real Estate via Streeteasy

Brittney Murphy’s House in the Hills in Foreclosure

Actress Brittany Murphy (King of the Hill, Clueless, 8 Mile) died suddenly and surprisingly in her house in the hills above the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles, CA in December of 2009. She reportedly went to meet The Great Director in the Sky due to a case of acute pneumonia and severe anemia.

Property records show that Miss Murphy purchased the four story residence during her professional salad days in June of 2003 for $3,850,000. She bought the 8,000-ish square foot hillside house from another famous and famously troubled Brittany, Britney Spears. After her death Miss Murphy’s rather odd and much older widower Simon Monjack continued to live in the house along with Sharon Murphy, his mother-in-law.

In March of 2010 Miss Murphy’s house was heaved on to the market with an asking price of $7,250,000. Mister Monjack rather creepily told gossip juggernaut TMZ that once the house sold he and Sharon planned to move to New York. Together. Ew. Listen bunnies, Your Mama don’t know an earth shoe from a cork trivit and we certainly don’t know a damn thing about the inner workings of the former Miss Murphy’s family structure. None the less it’s quite inexplicable and just plain creepy that Miss Murphy’s mother would plan to relocate to New York with her dead daughter’s shady-seeming widower.

Anyhoo, Miss Murphy’s many-quoined crib was mysteriously taken off the market just a month after it was listed and about a month after that Mister Monjack was found dead in the house by his roommate/mother-in-law Sharon. He reportedly perished from acute pneumonia and severe anemia, the very same causes reported to have killed his wife.

Miss Murphy’s house suddenly reappeared on the market this week with a new, much lower and probably far more realistic asking price of $4,995,000. A quick and dirty peep and a poke around the property records reveals that Miss Murphy’s house is–gasps all around–in foreclosure. According to the records Your Mama accessed a Notice of Sale was recorded on January 10, 2011 that scheduled a public sale of the property on the 31st of January with a minimum bid amount of $4,035,666.

Use your heads, sweeties, and recognize that it’s quite possible Miz Murphy managed to pull the house out of foreclosure and that the property records just haven’t been amended to reflect that. Whatever the case, this seems like last ditch effort by Miss Murphy’s mother to unload the house tout de suite..

listing photo: Rodeo Realty

Katey Sagal Downsizes Digs

BUYER: Katey Sagal and Kurt Sutter
LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $3,695,000
SIZE: 3,844 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 5.5 bathrooms

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: In early 2010 versatile veteran boob-toob actress Katey Sagal and her writer-producer huzband Kurt Sutter (The Sons of Anarchy, The Shield) hoisted their 7,202 square foot Los Angeles home in the Hollywood Hills on the market with an asking price of $4,750,000.

Several price drops and one failed sale brought the price tag of the Sutter-Sagal’s house in the hills down to $3,995,00. Just before the Christmas holidays (2010) the property was finally sold for $3,770,000. Records show the property was purchased by Rickey Minor, Emmy-nominated former musical director of American Idol and current bandleader for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Other notable residents of their star-stuffed neighborhood include Taylor Swift’s heart breaker Jake Gyllenhaal, über artist David Hockney, Oscar-winning actor Forest Whitaker (The Last King of Scotland), Oscar-winning filmmaker Quentin Tarantino, tatted-up beau-hunk Brian Austin Green (Desperate Housewives) and D-list diva Kathy Griffin who lives in a contemporary B-lister worthy residence.

A quick study of property records informs Your Mama that the Sutter-Sagals acquired their former 6 bedroom and 8 pooper pad in July of 2005 for $3,710,000. A second look at the sales figures and a few flicks of the well-worn beads on Your Mama’s bejeweled abacus reveals that after the Tinseltown couple paid the fat real estate fees they probably lost a bit of money on the sale of their house.

Thanks to an informant we’ll call Anita Tellsomebody we’ve learned that just before the turn of the New Year the Sutter-Sagals closed on their new crib, a secluded mid-century modern house located in Moraga Estates, a 24-hour guard-gated community in Bel Air (90077) that is so far west it’s got a Brentwood zip code (90049). Their new nest in Bel Air with a Brentwood zip code, significantly smaller then the huge home they just sold, cost the Sutter-Sagals $3,695,000. The seller was a big-shit literary agent who had a hand in representing television writer Marc Cherry when he sold the pilot script for the money-minting mega-hit show Desperate Housewives.

Miz Sagal, whose daddy was the prolific Emmy-nominated tee-vee movie directer Boris Sagal (Masada, Rich Man, Poor Man, A Case of Rape), has been toiling in Tinseltown since the early 1970s. Her big break came in 1987 when she signed on to be the big-haired, buxom and wickedly indolent housewife Peggy Bundy on the long running hit sitcom Married With Children. Since that program wrapped up in 1997 Miz Sagal has been a bizzy beaver and racked up an exhaustively long list of television credits that include Recess, 8 Simple Rules, Eli Stone and Lost. Along the way she’s lent her voice to a number of animated projects including Higglytown Heroes and the long-running Futurama. Currently Miz Sagal stars on the critically acclaimed drama Sons of Anarchy, a program created, written, produced and directed by her current and third huzband Kurt Sutter who sometimes acts in the series and, it should be noted, sometimes looks an awful lot like cheese ball romance novel model Fabio.

Listing information for the Sutter-Sagal’s new 1.5 acre spread indicates that a long gated drive clims through a densely wooded hillside to a sunny clearing where the privately-sited and vaguely-Asian wood, concrete and glass dwelling cleaves alluringly to the landscape. The house was built in 1962 and the architect–whomever he or she was–clearly channeled the distinct style and motifs of the exhalted architect Frank Lloyd Wright who expertly married angular and bossy geometric forms with earthy and dramatically subtle materials.

The foyer gives way to the dining room where an imposing and space defining triangular shaped two-sided fireplace separates it from the living room. It can sometimes be awkward and ill-advised to create a floor plan where one must traverse the dining room to get to the living room but in this case the dining room is sufficiently wide enough for unobstructed passage through the room. The impressive 19 x 28 foot living room, situated four or five steps lower than the dining room has sliding glass doors that open one side of the room to a living room-sized terrace perched in the tree tops and the other side of the room to a flat and grassy pad where the slim swimming pool and attached spa sit snugly between the house and the hillside.

While the house looks and feels superbly grounded, the main rooms soar theatrically due to the exceedingly high-peaked A-frame ceiling where the exposed beams and trusses create a triangular shape that repeats itself in a seemingly endless pattern. Your Mama might call the main living spaces fanciful and even indulgent if the architecture weren’t so unapologetically rigorous, algebraic and–let’s be honest, chickens–far more than a little ecclesiastical.

The service areas of the quirky crib include a built-in breakfast banquette and a clean-lined, nicely-equipped contemporary kitchen with concrete counter tops and all the high grade appliance bells and whistles one can and should expect in a $3+ million home. An adjacent staff room with private pooper and separate entrance is definitely on the wee sides but not punishingly so. Even still, it’s a tight enough space that a live-in domestic would be hard-pressed to live comfortably full-time. For sure our space-demanding housegurl Svetlana would to have a hissy fit to end all hissy fits iffin she was made to live up in that squeezy room. Ol’ Sveta insists on an apartment of her own and goes plum berserk if her bedroom is small enough that she can touch her grandmother’s faux-vintage Rococo commode while lying on the Vi-Spring mattress she insists be set directly on the floor lest she have to worry passionately about some awful intruder or demon who might hide under her bed. So, certainly, she would take verbal and possibly physical umbrage to the size of this room. Anyhoo, a set of sliders opens from the kitchen to a tree-shaded collection of entertaining and dining terraces tucked into the steep hillside.

A discreet staircase winds up from the foyer to the deliciously sequestered guest suite that monopolizes the entire second floor and includes a sitting area, walk-in closet and private pooper. Three additional bedrooms occupy a wing of their own off the foyer on the main floor. The two very modestly-sized family bedrooms–one is barely bigger than the damn maid’s room–share a full bath and a powder pooper and both open to a balcony that overlooks the swimming pool. The master bedroom at the end of the long bedroom corridor has a nicely sized but far from over-sized pooper with separate soaking tub and shower, an entire wall of closets plus a walk-in closet, a vaulted ceiling and two banks of windows that come together in a corner of the room and open out to a balcony that cantilevers over the motor court at the front of the house and allows for distant views of the Pacific Ocean.

The lowest level consists of two unconnected volumes carved into the hillside that can not be accessed from the interior of the house. That’s right, there are potentially vital parts of this house that can only be accessed by a trip through the outdoors. This is fine, in theory, because although Albert Hammond famously declared in song that It Never Rains in California, in reality it rains (and mists) more than most people think, sometimes even for days at a time. A volume at the front of the house holds a garage and extraordinarily large laundry facility. Listing information rather disturbingly called the second space on this level, a wood-paneled, almost cave-like space at the rear end of the house, a “gentleman’s lair.” This, ahem, “gentleman’s lair” consists of a small entrance hall, walk-in wine cellar and a 400+ square foot room lined with storage on one wall and windows on the opposite wall. A blessed window-free three-quarter bathroom was wisely installed so that sports fanatics can evacuate and emit their Superbowl Sunday beer and salami farts without disturbing or asphyxiating any of the other people in the house who might be pretending they don’t know what the Superbowl is.

Your Mama can’t be sure why the Sutter-Sagals would want and choose to pack up and decamp a beautifully sited 7,200+ square foot house in the Hollywood Hills for a much smaller–although far more architecturally stimulating–residence in a posh part of Los Angeles that is neither Bel Air nor Brentwood. But decamp they did–or soon will–and since we genuinely think Miz Sagal is the got-damn bees knees Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter wish them and theirs a happy new home. Mazel tov.

listing photos: Deasy Penner & Partners

Supermodel Kate Moss Buys Literary Crib in London

BUYER: Kate Moss
LOCATION: London, U.K.
PRICE: £7,950,000 (list)
SIZE: 6,728 square feet

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Just before the Christmas holidays (2010) Your Mama discussed the humongous house in London’s Highgate ‘hood that on-again/off-again/on-again lovers Jude Law and Siena Miller recently scooped up for around eight million pounds.

The Law-Miller manse, some of y’all may recall, sits on the very same celebrity-choked street as homes owned by a number of other high-profile and arty-farty Brits including Tantric sexers Sting and Trudy Styler who have been known to lease their crib out to notable names such as Pierce Brosnan and tea-house queen George Michael and his long-time American man-mate Kenny Goss who reportedly purchased their house from divalicious androgyne Annie Lennox. Not on the street but nearby neighbors include the wonderfully vee-rile Oscar-nominated actor Clive Owen (Closer, The Bourne Identity) and Oscar-nominated writer/director/actor/producer Terry Gilliam (Brazil, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and about a bazillion Monty Python movies)

Hoity-toity Highgate is soon to get another resident with an internationally known name: supermodel and single mommy Kate Moss who’s set to plunk down around seven and some million pounds for a mansion with a long history as a literary haven.

Miss Moss, now in her late 30s, rocketed to fame and fortune as a teenager in the mid 1990s when she appeared on the modeling scene in the early 1990s looking like an emaciated string bean. She was, for better and/or worse, a painfully thin antidote to the hulking and curvaceous glamazon supermodels like Cindy Crawford, Claudia Schiffer and Naomi Campbell that dominated the catwalks and fashion rags in the 1980s and early 90s.

Miss Moss’s itty-bitty body has appeared on every runway and in every fashion publication that matters and earns many millions each year shilling for fancy fashion houses such as Gucci, Chanel, Dior, Versace, Louis Vuitton, Calvin Klein and on and on and on. She’s appeared on more than 50 magazine covers, gave birth to a beautiful daughter, had a cocaine scandal–natch–that only increased her fame and fortune and (allegedly) had sexual relations with the potty-muthed and not particularly reliable Courtney Love, according to the potty-mouthed and not particularly reliable Courtney Love as well as a number of Miss Love’s other ladee pals in London. Blah, blah, blah. Who cares if she did sleep with loony-tunes Love and a few other lesbionic ladees? The glam life of an international supermodel shouldn’t resemble the bland life of a suburban hausfrau so bully for Miss Moss for dabbling in drugs and–as Bravo’s Andy Cohen would say–dipping her toe in the Ladee Pond.

Anyhoodles poodles, it’s no so surprising perhaps that Miss Moss would want new digs given that her current crib in London’s St. John’s Wood, which she acquired in 2007, seems to have some bad ju-ju that clings to it like white on rice. In May of 2010 three pieces of art were burgled right out of her house including a pricey piece by the obsessively furtive graffiti artist Banksy. Just a few days later her basement filled up with crap, literally, and destroyed household appliances, furniture, a few photographs by legendary photographer Mario Testino and at least some of Miss Moss’s extensive shoe collection.

For what it’s worth, in the same interview that kooky Courtney Love divulged the 411 about (allegedly) doing the dirty with Miss Moss she also said that she and the supermodel are still good friends and that, in fact, she almost bought Miss Moss’s mansion in St. John’s Wood. We sort of doubt that since most reports–and Miss Love herself–indicate that money is tight for Miss Love and it’s not likely that without a loan from her daughter that she’d be in the position to afford Miss Moss’s multi-million dollar house in St. John’s Wood.

Miss Moss’s new house sits on Highgate Hill, one of the highest points in London, which gives it lovely almost bucolic views out the windows of the upper floors. In the 1820s and 30s the residence was occupied by a Dr. James Gillman who took in troubled friend and patient Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Mister Coleridge, for those who don’t have university degrees in English Literature, was a poet and pasha of the Romantic movement who wrote among other difficult things the impossibly long Rime of the Ancient Mariner and the magnificent but incomplete Kubla Khan. Mister Coleridge was also an opium addict who died in the house in 1834. The house was later occupied by notable English novelist (The Good Companions, Angel Pavement) and playwright (Dangerous Corner) J.B. Priestley.

Listing information for the property shows the historic 4-floor residence has 7 principal bedrooms, 7 fireplaces, 2 kitchens and 4 full and 2 half poopers. Additional living space in the basement–known in Brit-speak as the lower ground–includes a sizable staff/guest suite with generous sitting room, two bedrooms, 2 poopers, laundry facilities, a breakfast/dining room and a wee kitchen. The lower ground floor also includes, according to listing information and the floor plan included with marketing materials, a utility room, storage space, wine cellar, boiler room and a large vault.

The front section of the main living level consists primarily of a large entry/reception hall with fireplace and an intimately scaled paneled dining room with fireplace, hardwood floors and a view of the walled and gated front garden. A 30-foot long paneled drawing room with a quartet of floor-t0-ceiling French doors stretches along the back of the house and opens to a slim balcony that leads out to a large patio and extra deep rear garden. The main kitchen at the front of the house stretches all the way to the rear where a the breakfast room has a view of and access to the backyard garden.

The second level–the first floor for Brits–has two bedrooms that share a single pooper, an intimately scaled bookshelf lined study and a master suite that currently consists of dressing room with fireplace, bedroom with fireplace and full wall of closets and private pooper with free-standing soaking tub/shower. Iffin we were Miss Moss, which we most certainly are not, we’d combine the existing master suite with the larger of the two adjacent bedrooms and combine the second bedroom with the study to create a flawless and private guest suite with sitting room and private facilities.

There are four more bedrooms on the uppermost floor that share two bathing and terliting room. There’s also a good-sized windowed kitchen, which makes this a perfect set up for Miss Moss’s little daughter Lila and whatever household staff Miss Moss employs to take care of her.
The floor plan included with the listing shows one of the rooms on the top floor labeled “Coleridge room,” which indicates to Your Mama’s pea-sized brain that this was the room occupied the the troubled but brilliant Sam Coleridge.

Miss Moss will likely move into the house with Jamie Hince, her current musician beau of the last few years. Your Mama quietly but firmly suggests Mister Hince keep on his relationship toes lest Miss Moss call the movers and boot his ass to the curb like she did with that heroin loving dumbass Pete Doherty character she used to go with.

Presumably Miss Moss’s mansion in fashionable St. John’s Wood/Primrose Hill will go on the market. The buyers will count among them celebrity neighbors who include Daniel Craig–who used to get with Miss Moss–and Gavin Rossdale and Gwen Stefani who live primarily in a Los Angeles mansion previously owned by Jennifer Lopez.

As far as we know–and we really know so precious little–Miss Moss continues to own a 10-bedroom farmhouse property in the Oxfordshire Cotswold village of Little Faringdon that she picked up in late 2003 or early 2004 for around £2,000,000.

listing photos: Marcus Parfitt

New Digs in Austin for Dennis Quaid?

BUYER: Dennis Quaid
LOCATION: Austin, TX
PRICE: $12,500,000 (list)
SIZE: 11,103 square feet, 6 bedrooms, 7 full and 4 half bathrooms

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Last week we received a sub rosa missive from the Lonestar State’s Tawny Twostepper who snitched to Your Mama that word on the real estate street in Austin, TX is that actor Dennis Quaid is in contract to purchase a swank new crib.

The cinematically prolific Mister Quaid started up his ladder of fame in the mid-1970s after his loony brother Randy earned an Oscar nomination for The Last Detail. His career hit its stride in the early 1980s and he’s now appeared in more than 70 films including Great Balls of Fire! Wyatt Earp, Traffic, Far From Heaven and The Parent Trap. Along the way he married and made a baby with romantic comedy queen Meg Ryan, shoveled a lot of coke up his nose and suffered from anorexia. In 2010 he gave an Emmy, Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild award nominated performance for his portrayal of horny former president Bill Clinton in The Special Relationship.

In July of 2004 the toothy movie star married his third wife, a real estate agent from Austin, TX named Kimberly Buffington. The couple fornicated, procreated and soon produced a set of twins who underwent a life-threatening medical ordeal shortly after they were born in late 2007. Six months or so later the new parents announced that they planned to pack up their little dumplings and hightail it out of Tinseltown to Missus Quaid’s hometown of Austin where, in fact, Mister Quaid already owned a home.

Not long after meeting his third bride-to-be in 2003, Mister Quaid scooped up a two-parcel property with a modestly scaled residence in Austin situated on the shore of Lake Austin. Property records indicate that Mister and Third Missus Quaid sold the property in December of 2009 to a local dentist.

Of course, we really haven’t any idea where exactly they’ve set out their toothbrushes since the sale of their home on Lake Austin in late 2009 but Your Mama assumes that the Quaid clan has been shacked up in one of their other residences in either Montana or California. Wherever they may be bunked lately it looks like they’ll soon load up their covered wagon and beeline for the Great State of Texas where they can raise up their youngins out of the harsh lights of Hollywood. According to Tawny Twostepper, Mister and Third Missus Quaid are fixin‘ to buy a multi-level celebrity-style mansion with 100 feet of waterfront that happens to be almost directly across the lake from his previous crib.

The house Tawny says the Quaid’s are about to acquire has been owned by the same Texas family for forty years. The property passed from father to son who spent, according to Tawny, a million or more to renovate his poppa’s old pad in 2007. The house has not been on the open market for some time but Your Mama managed to excavate an old listing or two that depicts the decadent dwelling as having 11,103 square feet with half a dozen bedrooms and 7 full and 4 half poopers. As far as we can tell, it was last listed on the open market with an asking price of $12,000,000.

The renovation of the mullet-style house–it’s all business in the front and a party at the back–maintained the traditional brick front façade with tall arched French doors on the second floor that open to a balcony with intricate wrought iron balustrade that over looks the circular motor court. The lake side of the house, an architectural party if there ever was one, looks to Your Mama like a Brutalist ziggurat modeled on the damn Tower of Babel.

A theatrical staircase with decorative wrought iron balustrade winds itself around a voluminous atrium space that soars above part of the primary living room that includes a high-drama fireplace with copper flue. At least one of the mansion’s four powder poopers has a cloisonne-style sink and the walls covered entirely in the most amazing (and disconcerting) cerulean-colored crocodile skin. Your Mama has no idea how many crocodiles had to die for that wallpaper or if, in fact, it’s actually far more animal friendly paper embossed with a crocodile skin pattern. Whatever it is, it’s decoratively voluptuous and Your Mama recommends anyone looking to replicate this courageous and outrageous look should sit down and think about it over a pitcher of gin & tonics. Consideration of wall covering like that is not something to be taken lightly.

Anyhoodles poodles, the quirky decorative revelations continue right on in to the tee-vee nook area of the living room where one wall has a giant boob-toob mounted to it and another entire wall is lined completely with lighted cabinets filled to the gills with guns. This highly-custom über masculine feature makes Your Mama’s hair stand straight up on end but it certainly makes sense given that the seller of the property is a bit of a big game hunter.

A nearby formal dining room takes a decidedly feminine decorative turn with a florid chandelier and a hand-painted table surrounded by chairs upholstered in a pink silk brocade. It looks to Your Mama like someone requested the kitchen be fitted to look like a cliché version of a library. The gourmet space has lattice patterned green marble floors, green marble counter tops and oodles of custom cabinets either made from or made to look like they’re made of mahogany. We suspect they are indeed made from mahogany. Either way this unusual mash up is rather unsettling to Your Mama and we’re not sure it’s wise to stylistically cross-breed a kitchen and a library.

Listing information also states and indicates via photographs, that the house includes a wine tasting room, a dark and windowless game room lined with video games and decorated with sports memorabilia and a secured vault, because y’all know how those Texas ladees like to turn it out for all those high-toned social events and charity functions loaded down with big jewels.

A bridge in the backyard spans a public street–that’s right, celery sticks, it spans a public street–and connects the mansion to its myriad of millionaires-only waterfront amenities that include a boat house, dock, boat house, waterside swimming pool and spa, terraced gardens, rock waterfall, outdoor living room with fireplace and, believe it or not, an FAA approved helipad.

According to the records we peeped at, Mister and Third Missus Quaid continue to own a 2-acre equestrian estate tucked into the Mandeville Canyon area of Brentwood in Los Angeles, CA. Property records we accessed indicate that Mister Quaid paid $5,350,000 for a 2-ish acre equestrian estate in June of 1999. The Los Angeles County Tax Man shows the main manse at the Mandeville Canyon property measures 5,619 square feet with 6 bedrooms and 7 poopers.

However, an late 2008 article in Architectural Digest states that the couple actually live in a 15-room French farmhouse style residence that was not purchased until after the couple were married. Armed with the information Your Mama went hunting and pecking through the property records and determined that in October of 2005 Mister and Third Missus Quaid purchased two adjacent parcels a bit farther west in the Rustic Canyon area of Pacific Palisades. Combined the properties measure 1.96 acres and according to the Los Angeles County Tax Man includes a 7,837 square foot residence with 8 bedrooms and 9 poopers.

Since the mid 1970s Mister Quaid’s property portfolio has included a ranch near Yellowstone National Park in the Paradise Valley area near rugged and rural Pray, MT. In the fall 2003 Mister Quaid let Architectural Digest behind his closed Montana doors for a photo shoot and in July of 2007 Mister Quaid married Third Missus Quaid on a hilltop on the property. In late 2008 the couple purchased a sizable chunk of adjacent property bringing the size of their spread to more than 500 acres, some of which was formerly owned by Oscar-nominated screenwriter Sam Peckinpah (The Wild Bunch). The property includes miles of bridle trails, a private observatory and a 3-mile stretch of creek that snakes through the pristine property.

The Paradise Valley area of Montana has long attracted Tinseltown types with a Big Sky bent including Jeff Bridges, Peter Fonda, Robert Redford, Harrison Ford and Michael Keaton who all own or owned ranches in the area.

listing photos: Buckman & Company via Real Estate Space

Significant Luxury Home Sale on Siesta Key

A West Indies inspired waterfront home on Siesta Key sold just last week for $5.9 million, establishing an early and encouraging benchmark for luxury home sales in Southwest Florida for 2011. The home’s sense of casual Caribbean sophistica…

Read More

Next Page »