SELLER: formerly by Tom Ford
LOCATION: Gilston Road, London, UK
SIZE: 3,705 square feet, 2 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: A unique semi-detached house (circa 3,705 sq ft) which is set back from the road and securely positioned behind a high wall and double gates. The property has recently been modernised and decorated to the highest standard, in a modern contemporary style using the finest materials.
YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Thanks to Linda Lovestosnitch Your Mama has learned that the louche London townhouse formerly owned by dirty minded darling of the fashion world Tom Ford has recently been listed with an asking price of £8,500,000. According to our bejeweled abacus, that figure converts to a knee buckling $14,463,650 at today’s rates.
Although we do not usually care to discuss properties formerly owned by famous folks, previous reports reveal that the current owner for Mister Ford’s former four floor townhouse who picked up the property five years ago has not changed the sleek and cooly sensual interiors except, we presume, to swap in his and/or her art collection for Mister Ford’s that includes works by American graffiti artist turned painter Barnaby Furnas and polemical YBA Marc Quinn who, among other artistic endeavors such as making a self-portrait of himself using his own blood, makes gorgeous but disturbing sculptures of amputees and women pretzeled in ways that highlight their hoo–hoos.
The 3,705 square foot townhouse includes just 2 bedrooms and 2.5 pristine poopers plus a teensy-weensy studio style staff apartment adjacent to the gore-may cooker on the lower ground floor that includes a separate entrance from the front garden, a private pooper and a wee kitchenette. We do not know if he is still in Mister Ford’s employ, but Your Mama imagines this is where the fashion design diva once installed his live-in Scottish butler who, like one of his dogs, is named Angus. In addition to Mister Ford, his dogs and Angus the butler, it’s probably safe to assume Mister Ford’s man-mate of 20+ years Richard Buckley also called this tautly designed house home. For what it’s worth and for anyone who might care, despite Mister Ford’s obvious and admitted fascination with all things x-rated, he and Mister Buckley claim to have a monogamous relationship. Hard to believe perhaps, but that’s what they say.
Mister Ford, who affects the most marvelous and insanely pretentious post-coital squinty-eyed smolder at all times, renovated the period property in Chelsea to his most meticulous and exacting standards. While the original architectural details of the house have been preserved on the exterior, the interiors were all did up and done over in a hedonistic, provocative and practically pornographic self conscious style that is pure Tom Ford for Gucci circa 2001 with powerful lines, an overt sexuality and sleek surfaces that include lustrous marble floors, glossy glass walls and enough stainless steel to require two full time minimum wage gurls to keep the place finger print free.
The former Ford crib occupies a corner lot on quietly glam Gilston Road in the Boltons Conservation Area and has been walled and meticulously hedged for privacy and security. The front gate opens into a narrow front garden where a short and wide staircase leads to the ground floor entrance hall where sinister black glass walls and a virginal white alabaster staircase sets the mood for the entire house which oozes with a cool humidity, rigid carnality and a turgidly calculated intermingling of supremely confident and concupiscent interior design druthers.
To the right of the entrance hall on the ground floor is a large study and on the left a squarish dining room with ebonized walls and ceiling, a white marble floor and two big bay windows, one of which opens to the rear garden. The dining room has been furnished with a monolithic and chunky, white square table for eight, a small round table for two and a seating area with a built-in sofa perfect for lounging with a post-dinner digestif. One flight down is the powder pooper and a generously sized guest bedroom with a walk-in closet and private bathroom. Opposite the guest bedroom is the streamlined and somewhat sterile morgue-like kitchen which has no overhead cabinetry (there is a prodigious pantry for cabinet comestibles) and includes a breakfast table tucked into yet another bay window. The entire back wall and lower cabinets have been done in stainless steel and the sink and dish washing equipment has been placed in a long, winter white work island
On the first floor, which we Amereecanos would call the second floor, two drawing rooms, which we Amereecanos would call living rooms, flank the stair hall. One is paneled with richly striated Makassar wood and features a fireplace, a couple of black sofas, and a black beaver fur area rug that we’re sure has the folks at Peta sweating with indignation and mortification. The other is wrapped impressively but somewhat impractically in stainless steel. Now listen children, iffin Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter ever wanted to drive our cheeky and dictatorial house gurl Svetlana off the deep end, all we would need to do is lock her in this room with our long bodied bitches Linda and Beverly (who put their wet noses on everything), a small child with dirty hands and three square of terlit paper.
The somber and somewhat malevolent feeling black and white master bedroom sits on the top floor with gleaming mirror-like black glass walls that surely reflect every twist and turn of the body at all the most inopportune and un-sexy moments. A thin and well lit dressing room with a chatoyant chest of drawers and a couple of built in cupboards where Mister Ford kept his trademark black suits and white shirts (worn only half buttoned to better show off the manicured hair on his chest) leads to the sleek, all white private pooper that includes a separate tub and shower as well as his and his sinks and vanities for practicing and mastering Mister Ford’s famously flirtatious come hither gaze.
The gardens have been done in the same spare manner as the rest of the manse with a patch of grass where Mister Ford’s pooches probably piddled and pooped, a small square of concrete with some hostile looking black patio furniture and wrapping around the front and side of the house is a deck painted the blackest of blacks which is somewhat softened by the thick green hedge and a what appears to be a somewhat incongruous miniature Japanese Maple tree. The children will not the surveillance equipment affixed to the house which ensures that any potential intruder or unwanted looky-loo is filmed.
For anyone who might have a time time qualifying for an eight and a half million pound mortgage, the property is also put up for lease at £5,500 per week, a rate a few flicks of the well worn bead of our abacus tells us amounts to 37,331.80 American dollars per month at today’s rates.
Mister Ford and Mister Buckley have undoubtedly shared many dee–voon domiciles over their long association including a most marvelous apartment in Paris which we don’t think they own any more. In Los Angeles they own and occupy a stunning Richard Neutra designed spread next door to Meg Ryan in Bel Air and in New York City they stay at The Carlyle where we once remember reading they have booked the exact same room more than 15 years. We’ve also read, but can not confirm, the couple have a place in Austin, TX which seems odd but there are stranger real estate stories out there. In 2006, after a long fight with the community, Mister Ford finally received permission to erect an approximately 15,000 square foot compound on a 10-acre hilltop site overlooking Santa Fe, New Mexico, where he was raised, and he also owns a 24,000 acre ranch in Galisteo, NM where it reportedly takes 30 minutes to drive from the front gates to the Tadao Ando designed house.