A Horrible House much admired by its owner

Here's a house worth Lord knows how many million pounds, but I DON'T CARE! I don't want the beastly place so that saves me £Lkhmm! Aren't I lucky. So will you be when you see these pictures. I have put in a few comments in red, about my own domestic arrangements, for comparison. 

Insider Information: In the Times Saturday Magazine they always have one of these articles, where they go to some non-enitity's house and then write a fawning article pretending to think the house is marvellous. Here we have a French femme fatale's mansion de Paris.

"The place screams luxury," the journalist informs us. A bit cold and spikey, I'd call it (left). That thing that looks like a rug on the floor, is a mosaic. It is not nearly as pleasing as the Roman mosaic in Taunton museum and I bet it doesn't feel as pleasant underfoot either. I can recommend going to see that, and touching it to appreciate how lovely it feels, before they stop allowing such liberties to be taken.

Notice also the hideous light fitment which is fully in keeping with all the other nasty shiny decor in this most unwelcoming of entrance halls. The owner boasts that she has "brought the subtle glamour of a 5star hotel into our home".


Roman mosaic at Taunton Museum.
Shows story of Dido and Aeneas.
Infinitely preferable.

Our entrance hall is furnished with boots all over the floor, a coat rack BULGING with a thousand never-used coats, baskets awaiting collection or repair, the cat, long-forgotten homework, bills and empty beer bottles. Very homely.

This is called the Chill-Out Zone. The family must be midgets as that little footbath is called the Swimming Pool. This basement area also boasts a hammam, whatever that is, and a spa, massage room and cinema. "It's our fun floor," says the owner, proudly. "I don't want anyone getting bored. Each floor has something different to offer." 
We don't have a Fun Floor in our house. There's a ground floor with bicycles in it and some camping equipment and hammers and stuff like that. The 1st floor has a kitchen and an area with chairs, music stands, bookcases etc. and stacks of papers, some of them vital like passports and chequebooks. The top floor has a few cramped bedrooms of which those occupied by the younger members are so untidy that they are eligible for World Heritage status, and a bathroom where we all bang our heads due to the sloping ceiling under the eaves.

The dining room, which has a leather ceiling. I shall say nothing on this matter.
The walls are of alabaster. 

Compare the G-AHLK dining area, where every surface is covered in junk, the chairs are all broken and none of the plates match. We have got MUCH better paintings though and the wines are many and various.

Horrid uncomfortable kitchen. White marble throughout; no expense spared here. Slaves have been in and done the washing up etc., which is nice. It has the air, though, of a hospital treatment room where one might take bloods or administer some other nasty medical procedure. Perish the thought of whipping soufflés or roasting any peacocks etc. in there.
The mere act of making a cheese sandwich in my kitchen can make the area into a bloodbath where it looks as though an 8-course banquet for 40 has been prepared. Countless implements are employed. Crumbs, crusts, wrapping, plates and knives are left about, and other members of the family then enter and complain that there's no bread left.

What???? What is this (left)? A washbasin? A birdbath?

Well, - it's a very expensive alabaster vase water installation designed by the owner of the house. Hmmm. The alabaster may well "echo the material used in the dining room" but if I was going to spend that sort of money I would procure an early Victorian quince dish, or a bit of  Ming.

This picture on the wall is of a frightening tribesman with a machine gun. It is not likely to enhance your concentration when you sit below it for a game of chess. An inexplicable choice of artwork.

Look at that piano. They have covered it in silver foil; and yet they are proud of the fact. They also obviously NEVER play it. Real pianos have their mouths open and are covered in piles of music and the keyboard has every pencil in the house, stored along the upper registers. N.B. Grand pianos have the advantage that the floor underneath them can be covered with piles of music as well. This (shown) is a waste of a piano. There is an old bedspring on the sideboard behind the sofa. You'd think they'd have put that out of sight for the photographers. There is a bit of sheep fleece I think, next to it. VERY odd wall decoration above those. I think perhaps the artist was pulling A Fast One. Anyway, I'm not keen on it. As for the "crocodile-hide and murano glass back-lit coffee table", I have rarely seen a less practical item of furniture. In real life the glass surface would be all smeary and have coffee rings, and the greenery would be long dead. If we had such a table in our house people would put their feet up on it and get it all muddy, before breaking it to smithereens.

The house has 3 floors as well as the basement. There are 3 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, countless dressing rooms, living rooms for the children and silk rugs galore along with mother of pearl and ebony inlays, and more mosaics which get everywhere including into the kitchen. 

The owner said she wanted to create a feeling of warmth and comfort. I am sorry but despite spending £Lkhmm she has failed spectacularly.

Here is a charming interior: Coleridge's cottage at Nether Stowey. The rug perhaps a little ill-advised but apart from that it's delightful. Despite Nether Stowey's proximity to the International Alabaster Hub that is Watchet there is not a speck of alabaster to be seen.