“Part luxury home, and part hidden fortress, this awesome Kent mansion is like the house I’d live in if my face, body type, personality, and lack of discernible talent hadn’t prevented me from becoming famous and wealthy.”


Part luxury home, and part hidden fortress, this awesome Kent mansion is like the house I’d live in if my face, body type, personality, and lack of discernible talent hadn’t prevented me from becoming famous and wealthy.  The front of the house is walled off by trees and hedges, and guests have to approach up a long driveway; keep a telescope by the front window and you should have plenty of time to turn all the lights off and hide behind the sofa when you spot your neighbor coming over to collect money for their kid’s school fundraiser.  Can’t put a price on that.

Inside, the place has been renovated by Skip Srako, so you know it looks good.  I don’t know who Skip Srako is, but you can tell by his name that he has flair to spare.  (“Flair 2 Spare” would be a really good vanity license plate, wouldn’t it?)  You enter into a long, bright foyer, which leads to a living room that features cathedral ceilings and oversized windows.  It’s a dramatic space.  It’s so dramatic, I wouldn’t be surprised if it started a huge argument over whose photos you’ve been liking on Instagram, and then somehow guilted you into taking them on a weekend vacation.  The formal dining room opens, via double glass doors, onto the terrace, which always kind of amuses me because it seems like you’re saying, “here’s where we eat, and just in case my cooking makes you literally vomit, you can step outside just through there.”  The family room has a ton of windows and even more terrace access (through two sets of double doors); there’s also a gas fireplace that, every time you use it, will make you jolt suddenly awake several hours later, thinking “did I definitely turn off the fireplace?”  The gourmet kitchen is huge, and features dark marble countertops and one of those chef’s ranges set into the island.  Everyone I know uses their kitchen island exclusively for piles of junk mail and unopened student loan notices;  you could one up them by literally incinerating it all right as it comes in.  (Don’t tell me it wouldn’t give you a cheap thrill to burn all your unopened student loan bills.)

To head upstairs, we could take the stairs, which is bordered by a really beautiful hand-wrought iron-and-mahogany railing that would fetch at least sixty bucks at the scrapyard if you ever go totally broke, OR we could take the elevator.  I never fail to be impressed by home elevators.  It’s the midwestern yokel in me, I guess.  Every time I go to an open house where there’s an elevator, I’m like, “who lived here, Michael Jackson??”  Upstairs, the sprawling master bedroom features blonde hardwood floors and an awesome windowseat that you’ll never use because I guarantee it will always be piled with dirty laundry.  The master bath is truly impressive, with double vanities (and cool “statement” sinks) and a freestanding soaking tubs with water jets.  Those water jets sure do feel good on your, ahem, “lower back.”  Go ahead, position yourself so the water jet is shooting directly onto your “lower back.”  Feels good, doesn’t it?

At the very top of the house, under the peaked roof, is an attic suite with a bedroom, lounge, and small office area.  It’s perfect if you work from home and need a little retreat, or if you have a teenager who’s so annoying that they basically need to be quarantined from the rest of the family.  Way downstairs, the basement level is a combination media-slash-exercise room, and there’s even a dumbwaiter that connects you to the kitchen, which should give you an idea of how old the house is.  And finally, there’s a huge flagstone patio out back, with a grilling area and a fantastic swimming pool that guarantees your friends will be randomly dropping by to see you every time it gets hotter than 85.

5019 Klingle Street NW
5 Bedrooms, 5.5 Baths


All photos courtesy MRIS; listing courtesy Evers and Company, 202-364-1700

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