The most valuable home on the planet is a historic villa in the south of France, and it’s for sale. But you can’t afford it. Don’t feel bad, though; at over 300 million euros (or about $335 million at present exchange rates), you could probably count on your fingers the number of Americans who could afford it. There is literally not a single person or couple in Hollywood who could afford it; Kanye can’t afford it, even if you include Kim’s money; Trump can’t afford it (consensus among New York insiders is that his net worth is between $100 million and $300 million); Lebron ($1 billion lifetime deal with Nike) might be able to afford it, but he’d have to take out a pretty scary mortgage.
Of all the venues to witness blues and jazz for an evening in DC, Westminster Presbyterian Church may be the most unique. Twice a week, blues and jazz veterans wail on their instruments for a packed house over three hours. The stage room is modern, the lights are low and the crowd listens, but never stays put. People dance in the aisles, in the back of the room and near the stage.
It may be a unique venue for a jazz performance, but Westminster has made a long-standing tradition of both community outreach and of live jazz and blues nights for the DC community—and not just for parishioners. … IN SOUTHWEST DC: CHURCH OF JAZZ & BLUES
You wouldn’t think that a place that’s only 9 degrees could make you feel so warm. But it does! Every year!
This year’s theme at the Gaylord National Resort & Conference Center’s annual ICE! show is Christmas around the World. It’s sort of like the It’s a Small World ride at Disney World, sans boats and warm temperatures.
There’s no bigger downer than buying a new sweater and then, on your Monday morning commute, seeing three other people on the metro wearing the exact same thing. This, in a nutshell, is why I go thrifting. But that’s just the beginning. I mean, you go to a store, any store, and you’re basically being spoon-fed an aesthetic. Are you really making decisions when you shop at J. Crew? I’d argue the exact opposite. But you go to a thrift store, you have every decade from the Seventies to the Aughties, every subcultural uniform from each respective era, all crammed in there. You have no choice but to make constant decisions, whereas most shopping experiences don’t require any judgment whatsoever.
Once upon a time in the city, you had a kid and went burb-ward. Today, even with all the rhetoric of the urban renaissance, skinny jeans and fixed-gear bikes, things are little different. Maybe you have two kids now before giving in to the reality that the two-bedroom condo you spent the last decade pimping out doesn’t have enough space for two diaper-toting cuties, and then reluctantly move beyond the Beltway, beyond the city limits, or to Jersey.
If you saw it, you know that Matt Damon unwittingly bought a zoo in the movie by a similar name. It simply came with the house.
But those who buy lighthouses are, in a word, deliberate, and, by their own admission maybe a little out of their depth. Tackling the restoration or renovation of a century-old (many older) rusting, decaying, sometimes listing or structurally dangerous icon, and adding in stringent 21st century code and in some cases historic preservation requirements is not for the faint of heart. In short, transforming an historic navigational aid into a modern vacation home isn’t for the typical weekend warrior – unless one has free weekends for the next five years – nor does it come with an instruction manual. But it definitely has its merits. Those who own them are proud curators of a bygone era. … WE BOUGHT A LIGHTHOUSE