PRICE: $1,000,000 (MD-LD rental)
LOCATION: Parsonage Lane, Sagaponack, NY
SIZE: 12,300 square feet (approx.), 8 bedrooms, 9 full and 2 half bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: On Parsonage lane, newly completed 12,300+/- sq. ft. custom residence. The 4.1+/- acres overlooks expansive farm fields. Features 8 bedrooms, 9 full and 2 half baths, formal living and dining rooms, professional chef’s kitchen, media room, office, and great room. Spacious covered porches, elaborate woodwork and cabinetry, and top electronics. 3,800′ finished basement features gym, wine cellar, sauna, billiard room and two bedrooms. 1,700′ pool house/gaming pavilion. Over sized pool with spa and all-weather tennis.
YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Sit down and take yourself a big fat nerve pill and a shot of something bracing because Your Mama has some real estate news that just might cause a few of you kids to faint in upset and flabbergast. See puppies, the day every real estate agent on the East End giddily awaited has finally arrived.
Earlier this week we learned from Braden Keil at the NY Post and the gurls at Newsday that the ballsy proprietor of a gargantuan and dee–luxe shingle style “cottage” in the hoity toity Hamptons recently dropped a 3-year old mansion on the summer rental market with a $1,000,000 asking price. Yes puppies, you read that correctly. That is one million fat clams to shack up in this lavish yet somewhat ordinary Hamptons estate for the 90-some days between Memorial Day and Labor Day. And it’s note even on the water.
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The gurls at Newsday identify the owner of the 4.1+/- acre Parsonage Lane property as a real estate agent named Andrew Saunders who was offered a million bucks to rent the property last summer, but declined because it was for sale at the time for just over $20,000,000. So that’s why he imagines he might get a million dollars this year.
Another local broker, the inestimable and venerable Harold Grant, claims that he rented out a Southampton house last year for a million big ones, but the high producing agent with big name clients declined to comment further. However, other local sources told the gurls at Newsday that it was for an oceanfront house on super posh Gin Lane. So the Sagaponack house isn’t setting a rental record for the Hamptons but it’s still got all the real estate brokers up and down Montauk Highway whispering and gossiping about whether Mister Saunders will get a million bucks for a house that is not only not on the water, but does not even have water views.
In fact, the massive house in swanky and serene Sagaponack sits at least 1.5 miles from the sugar sand beach at the bottom of Sagg Main Street. What! For a million bucks you still gotta have the hunky gardener drive you to the damn beach? Oh hunny, no. Yes, you could pump a bi-cycle down to the sand if you were so inclined, but Your Mama thinks it’s just plain suicidal to do battle on a bi-cycle with all the X5s, G55s, and 911 cabriolets that race up and down Sagg Main Street. We are cautious that way, but perhaps someone who can easily afford to throw enough caution to the wind to plunk down a million clams to lease a house for three months is both sportier and gutsier than Your Mama.
So what does a million bucks buy, or rather rent a stinking rich weekender? The main house measures about 8,500 square feet with an additional 3,800 square feet in the finished basement. Eight bedrooms and 9 full and 2 half baths should be enough space for even a large polygamist family if they’re willing to double bunk the wives. The interiors have all been done up in whites and beiges and cremes, all very soothing and comfortable looking. However Your Mama would be petrified to open a bottle of red wine in this house for fear of it spilling and splashing and making the place look like a high class crime scene.
For a million damn dollars Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter would want this house to come fully staffed with a gurl who does nothing but wipe the asses of our guests and a beefy young lad to stand in the driveway with a chamois to wipe every speck of dust that lands on the cars from the gravel driveway. We’d want chocolate sculptures in our bedroom each night and closet full of a never ending supply of Jo Malone and Kiehls products. We’d want a 24-hour professional chef on duty so that IF we were to awake at 3:27 am craving a chili dog and Chinese food it would be ready by the time we got downstairs in our well tanned all together.
For a million bucks Your Mama would want a former male moe-dell who does nothing but sit next to us on the beach and rub us down with oil and towel dry us after a dip in the Atlantic. Your Mama would want a gurl with a bucket of ice and a bowl of water to trail after our long bodied bitches Linda and Beverly so that they never overheat as they roam the manicured grounds. We’d want a three times weekly (M, W, and F) team of house cleaners who work silently in the middle of the night so they’re not underfoot and making a racket while we’re trying read the classics and swill gin and tonics in peace on the covered porch overlooking the farm fields.
But alas. Your Mama guarantees that for a million dollars you still gotta drive yourself to the beach, supply your own chef, your own housekeeper, your own car washer and your own gurl to wipe your guest’s butts. So forget it. We’ll stay in the modest shingle style farmhouse we already own.