The Good Life

So I was just perusing my drafts of half written blog entries (sheesh there are a lot of them!) and came across the photos below. I totally forgot about this place! This was an inspection of a Park Avenue apartment on the Upper East Side. Its owners only spent about two weeks of the year at the place and decided to sell. I have been in my fair share of the One Percent's homes, but this place was huge. I think the apartment has at least double the space of my parent's entire house in upstate New York. The living room alone could easily  fit at least 6 copies of my bedroom inside. Word on the street informed me that the owners had purchased the place for a measly $10 mill but managed to pawn it off to its next owners for $18.5. Chump change if you ask me. Weirdly, the new owners purchased the place with all of the furnishings. Most people tend to want to do their own decorating, so that was a bit strange... But whatever, they'll probably only spend two weeks a year there as well, so why not just use the existing furniture? 

Anyway, the decorations were far from my own personal style (a bit flowery and stuffy if you ask me), but rather grand and impressive nonetheless. Below is a small sampling of what I saw:

Are those Fabergé Eggs? (Just kidding, I know they're not, but still)

I LOVE mirrored furniture. I am so totes jelly of this vanity desk!

This is what I call a princess staircase. Can you imagine picking up your prom date as she descends these stairs?? #romantical

No home is appropriately furnished without a stained glass biblical scene

The family crest?

More regal stained glass stuff. Does this remind anyone else vaguely of the crests for Ravenclaw and Griffindor?!?

Let's Get Political

There's been quite a hubbub in NYC the past week in anticipation for the U.N. General Assembly  which kicked off its 67th session today. Last week I saw these three men walking around Hunter College dressed as the Iranian president,  Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. If you can't tell from the photo, there were two normal Ahmadinejad clones, and a scary third clone with a head-to-body size ratio gone awry. As somebody who gets most of her news from Jezebel, I'm not exactly the most up to date person on non-feminist and non-popculture political happenings. I guess this group, known as #UNwelcome was protesting the U.S.'s agreement to let President   Mahmoud Ahmadinejad through its borders and appear at the U.N. According to this article in the Guardian, Ahmadinejad arrived in New York with an entourage of over 100 people. You gotta admit, the man at least knows how to make an entrance!

Photo credits: http://mostunwelcome.com/

All that Glitters

It requires a certain amount of wealth to live in Manhattan. It requires an even greater amount of wealth to live in a non-dilapidated Manhattan apartment without several random strangers for roommates. Not kidding, I saw a listing for a studio in Murray Hill that was TWELVE x TWELVE FEET going for $1,500/month. Absolutely unbelievable. Despite the frustrating and outrageous financial requirements of city living (I'm trying to move right now, don't even think about asking me how it's going), you'll generally see people from all sorts of backgrounds in most Manhattan neighborhoods. The exception to this rule is the Upper East Side. No matter how many times I go, I'm always shocked at the homogeneity of Madison avenue in the 60s and 70s. People on the street are clearly very, very wealthy. It's like falling down a rabbit hole and coming out the other side where life is just one big Ralph Lauren photo shoot.

Look Dina, have you ever seen so many colorful polo shirts? Madison Avenue keeps getting curiouser and curiouser!

Imagine this, but only the men are a lot older and less attractive

Economic class does not seem to matter much in regard to my encounters with people during mold inspections. Residents tend to be either friendly, slightly to moderately hysterical, weird/awkward, or indifferent. Sure some groups of people are a bit more demanding than others, although usually people treat me well enough. At least I'm treated as a fellow human being. This was not the case during a recent inspection of an Upper East Side apartment. The resident's behavior was appalling. She could not have been a more perfect stereotype of the über wealthy — an entitled asshat lacking even the smallest ounce of empathy and believing she is better than everyone else (for a formal dictionary definition, look up 'Mitt Romney').

This statement was never more applicable

You know the phrase "money can't buy you class"? We all know some people who seem to have missed that memo. This woman was certainly one of those people. I rarely see an apartment so ostentatiously decorated. It brought new meaning to the word "gaudy". The dining room and living room were cluttered with stuffy, wannabe Louis XVI-inspired furniture.There was a "very expensive" carpet on the floor that my notebook was not allowed to touch (the notebook never did touch the carpet, although she had to move my notepad when I set it down a mere few inches away). Do not get me started on the art. A window sill was home to a hideous colorful glass sculpture that I think (?) was supposed to be some sort of abstract person.

The sculpture rivaled the taste level of this masterpiece

I was hired to inspect her dining room, stairwell, and bedroom. To put things into perspective, to travel to the master bedroom, you must walk up the stairs from the dining room, and boom, you're there. Aka all three rooms are directly connected. The resident was so awkward and cold. She told the maid, who was cleaning the master bathroom upon my arrival, to watch me while I work. This was no big deal in the master bedroom because she could still do her thing while I did mine. The resident then insisted that the cleaning lady accompany me the five feet from the bedroom to the stairwell so that I was not left without direct supervision. You know, because otherwise I wouldn't be keep my grubby poor person fingers off the clown sculpture. 

At one point I asked the cleaning lady for a step ladder so that I could take moisture readings on the ceiling. Out of nowhere the resident burst into the stairwell saying, "What do you need? Don't ask her, she doesn't know anything". Umm, whoa. Poor woman, I can't believe she has to take that shit on the reg. Apparently the maid did know something because guess who fetched me the step ladder?

At one point the resident needed to walk past me. Instead of saying, "excuse me", I received a "Can you move". It was a statement, not a question. My response above.

To top everything off, at the end of my inspection I was unable to moisture test the dining room walls. Why?, you may ask. Excellent question! Metallic substances give moisture meters a false positive reading, making a surface appear saturated. I could tell immediately that there was some sort of metal finish on her walls. They had an unusual appearance and as expected, my moisture meter told me the walls were "saturated". I asked her if the walls were copper plated. Oh no, that's the poor man's metal! Her walls were made with gold. *Pause* ...Of course they were. Let's take a second to let this sink in — the resident was so rich that she could afford to coat her walls with gold. 

And here's me trying to decide whether to spend my money this week on food or student loans... *Le sigh*

Wonder if she's married to King Midas...

Photo credits: Alice in Wonderland, Ralph Lauren, someecards.com, Festival of Balloons, Mad Men, Disney: 'The Golden Touch'

Money Can't Buy You Taste

What do you give the kid who has everything? Apparently an oil painting! This exceptional piece of artwork was spotted in the child's bedroom of a rather extravagant apartment located in Sutton Place.

What Lies Beneath

I was hired by a 75+ year old Eastern European woman to do an inspection of her Park Avenue  co-op apartment. We’ll call this woman Louisa Trachtenberg.  It was supposed to be a quick job with “just one or two rooms”.  According to Louisa, the resident above had been renovating their apartment and accidentally caused a leak into Ms. Trachtenberg’s home. Apparently the people upstairs are very wealthy, and happen to head the co-op board. As a result, Louisa was extremely frustrated because the board insisted she was crazy and that she has nothing to worry about. While Ms. Trachtenberg may not have been wrong about real water damage, I would definitely not say she wasn't crazy…

Typically when residents feel ignored, they absolutely LOVE venting to me in great detail regarding how they've been wronged, why they're not crazy, and all the ways in which their health/apartment/lives have been ruined. This often adds an extra hour or two to an investigation. Louisa classifies as one of my most extreme examples.

I was in a huge rush that day with several other appointments following her investigation. Just as I kept thinking I was ready to wrap up the inspection, Louisa would mention another room she thought needed testing, all the while talking my ear off about her upstairs neighbors. While Louisa herself was quite a character, her husband was a whole other story. I don’t make it a habit of ridiculing those with physical or mental disabilities, but there was definitely something off with Louisa’s husband. He most certainly was deaf and generally seemed checked out of reality. He silently shuffled around the apartment in his slippers observing me as I worked. Eep!

Throughout the investigation, Louisa was particularly fixated upon some slight discoloration of her dining room wallpaper. I attempted to pacify her by saying that staining is normal and it was most likely a result of water interacting with the wallpaper dye or glue. As an afterthought, I offered to peel back the paper and take a look behind. This is what I found:

Before: Slight blueish tinge to the wall paper

After: Jackpot!

Gross? Yes. Worthy of a meltdown? Apparently. At the sight of this mold, Louisa proceeded to shriek, collapse on the floor, and cry hysterically. Seriously lady, it was my face that was 6 inches away from this, not yours! Ms. Trachtenberg insisted on having her daughter come over immediately to discuss. She claimed to be in no state to recall anything said beyond this point and needed a witness. I was forced to sit with Ms. Trachtenberg until the daughter arrived. 

While Louisa clearly did have water damage throughout her apartment, the levels of airborne mold spores were completely normal (mold growth on a wall, especially from an old leak, doesn't necessarily mean mold in the air). Despite this, she had me write and rewrite her report not once, not twice, but FOUR times before it met her needs. Here's hoping the co-op board finally fixed her apartment! Cheers!

Photo credits: The Simpsons, www.debtpanicswansea.org.uk