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Martha Stewart needs help.
Now, if you’ve ever seen Martha obsess over the glue gun overheating just as she’s about to finish the Christmas wreath made of tobacco leaves she grows on her window sill, or knit doilies from the eyelashes of the llamas she keeps in her petting zoo, this won’t come as a surprise.
Not referring to that kind of help.
You see, Martha is having trouble selling her estate in Westport, Connecticut. Yes, the one that has been such a memorable backdrop for a career that began when she and her husband Andy bought the place in 1972 and she started a catering business that began the process that morphed her into the chief guru and guiding light for all things that fall under that horrid catch-all of a phrase — Lifestyle.
It’s been more than two months and Martha still hasn’t been able to unload the place, which is going for a measly $9 million.
Things are getting desperate. Sure, Martha has sold her East Hampton bungalow for $9 million and her Greenwich Village penthouse for $6 million, but she’s still stuck with the Lily Pond estate on Long Island, the flat on Fifth Ave. in Manhattan, the mansion in Maine and the New Bedford Farm in upstate New York.
Since Martha has been so helpful over the years in giving us all such fabulous advice on decorating the table, perfecting the colour scheme, selecting the cutlery that matches the curtains, maintaining the cutting garden, and throwing the myriad dinner parties that litter our cramped social calendar each month, it’s only fair that we return the favour. N’est-ce pas?
If you want to sell Turkey Hill, (No I won’t go there. It’s just too cheap and easy) you first need to unbraid the leaves of all of your daffodils. Any prospective buyer will be intimidated by the prospect of maintaining a border so primped and primed that the previous owner hogtied the foliage.
Ditch the Martha Stewart Everyday Living tumblers and towels you bought from Zellers when you ventured north of the border. Turn off Martha Stewart Radio that’s playing in the background.
Make some Martha Stewart Surprise Cookies and ice them with Martha Stewart sprinkles. The smell of fresh cookies will cover the scent of the hundreds of missing dishes of potpourri you made while walking in your sleep over the decades you lived there.
Finally, change the names of your dogs. Buyers must be able to project themselves into your house. They cannot see themselves living someplace where you call Zu Zu, Paw-Paw, Chin Chin and Empress Wu in from their canine croquet enclosure. (By the way, the handmade wickets were twisted out of steel by Martha during her many long hours of first-hand research into the decorating habits of the American prison population.)
One more thing: If your house still doesn’t sell, call Bob Vila.