SELLER: Victoria Gotti
LOCATION: Birch Hill Court, Old Westbury, NY
PRICE: $3,500,000
SIZE: 5 bedrooms, 5.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: This exquisite custom brick estate with Old World charm and elaborate detail on 4 acres of magnificent property was built in 1993 and features a pool with cascading waterfalls, guest/cabana house, gazebo with pond, stable/paddock, 4 car garage, fountains, children’s playground, tennis court.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: If the Long Island children will simmer down and listen very closely they can probably hear all the lock-jawed blue bloods in old money Old Westbury, NY sitting around their exclusive (and “restricted”) country clubs quietly clinking their brandy snifters at in celebration that mafia princess turned gossip writer turned novelist Victoria Gotti has listed her 4 acre estate with an asking price of $3,500,000.

According to the gurls at Newsday, this is far from the first time Miz Gotti, a questionably klassy ladee who once pretended to have breast cancer, has attempted to unload her mafia-style mansion on the North Shore of Long Island. First listed in 2003, then 2005 and again in 2006, the over-processed property once carried an asking price of $4,800,000.

Property records show that weavetastic Miz Gotti and her former huzband Carmine Agnello (who was, surprise!, jailed in the year 2000 for racketeering) purchased the Birch Hill Court property in 1989 for $175,000 and proceeded to build one of the ass-ugliest mansions Your Mama has ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on.

Miz Gotti reportedly shares her Old Westbury estate with her three college age cugines (Carmine Jr, John and Frank) who revealed themselves to be nearly inarticulate, obscenely entitled and wildly ill-mannered morons on the family’s lurid and stomach churning reality tee-vee program Growing Up Gotti which has, thankfully, been cancelled. Even Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter, who are unashamed and unrepentant reality program addicts could not sit through an entire episode of that television train wreck.

Anyhoo, listing information for Miz Gotti’s estate indicates the two story house (plus finished basement) of indeterminate and completely whacked architectural pedigree includes 5 bedrooms and 5.5 bathrooms while property records show the house measures 5,739 square feet with 7 full and 2 half bathrooms. Your Mama can not account for the terlit count difference, but it may be the larger pooper count includes bathing and evacuating facilities in the detached guest house/cabana which looks like some half-assed, please poke our eyes out with a stick attempt at re-creating the damn Parthenon.

Listing information reveals the fully landscaped property, which rather unfortunately backs up to the service road of the very bizzy and very loud Long Island Expressway, includes double drive gates, a large motor court, any number of fountains, a cascading waterfall, dark-bottomed swimming pool, vast (featureless and furnitureless) paver-tiled patios and terraces, long stretches of lawn, a gazebo occupying on a small island in the middle of a private pond (gack!), stables and paddocks for the horsey types, a children’s playground, a tennis court, a damn go-kart track and a 4 car garage for all the Gotti family’s many mafia-mobiles.

While the puzzling and perplexing exterior has Your Mama’s hair standing on end, it’s really the interior spaces that make us go all glassy eyed, slack jawed an in desperate need of a large nerve pill and a gigantic gin and tonic. Guests, associates, buttons and compares are greeted in an entrance hall with a too-low looking ceiling and twin curving staircases where Miz Gotti can make dramatic entrances with her white pant suits, deep decolletage and riotous Rapunzel like tresses. The large living room features wood floors (that look like they might be cherry) a grand piano (that we’d bet our long bodied bitches Linda and Beverly has never been touched by the Gotti boys), all manner of over-stuffed chintz sofas, funeral home style drapery, and perhaps most unsettling of all, an entire wall completely covered with floor to ceiling mirrors. Who does that? Seriously. Who? The dining room ceiling, like that of the living room, has been stenciled with flowers, an affectation that makes Your Mama gag a little, inlaid wood floors and more funeral home style drapery.

The kitchen, with its tile floor and mirrored built-in buffet/display cabinet, is clearly in need of a complete overhaul and Your Mama does not even know what to make of those curly-cue iron stools that have been pulled up to the pill shaped work island, but we sincerely recommend they be taken out with yesterday’s garbage because they are making our back ache just lookin’ attem.

While Miz Gotti’s office with its fireplace, inlaid floors and black walls almost (we stress the word almost) passes muster for not being completely vomit worthy, we are completely over-whelmed by the decorative tragedy of Miz Gotti’s boudoir and private bathroom. For some reason, some misguided decorator has draped and swagged yard after yard after yard of gauzy textiles over Miz Gotti’s four poster bed which sits, as you might well imagine, on a pedestal. The eagle eyed children will note how the swoopy chaise lounge at the foot of the bed appears to hang over the edge of the pedestal. Niiiihce. Miz Gotti’s rose and gold colored bathroom is quite possibly one of the most upsetting examples of a bathroom on which we have ever laid our beady little eyes. How much do the children want to bet that all those floral arrangements are silk or plastic dust catchers? We’d also like to direct the children’s limited attentions the baseboard heating elements which are certainly not what we expect to see in a multi-million dollar mansion, even on Long Island where baseboard heating is as common as sand at the beach.

There’s a saying in real estate which is that, “Every lid has a pot.” However, Your Mama imagines that only another mobbed up family with a few million clams stashed in a hidden compartment in their late model Escalade will find this is the right pot for their over the top design luvvin’ lid.

None the less, we wish Miz Gotti and her three cretin kids all the luck in the world selling her real estate white elephant and respectfully request she not send any of her deceased father’s former enforcers out looking for Your Mama’s and/or the Dr. Cooter’s knee caps. Capeesh?