We all know by now that “money can’t buy you class,” but who needs class when you can get prime Brooklyn real estate?
Uh, whoever buys the most expensive home in all of Brooklyn will need it! Because this apartment is seriously ugly and will require some major taste to make it look at all different from some random McMansion in the Omaha suburbs. (No offense to the Omaha suburbs.) Via Curbed, this “11,000-square-foot penthouse at One Brooklyn Bridge Park… just dropped onto the market for an eye-popping $32 million” and is reportedly touted by its realtor as being “what dreams are made of.” And while, sure, “dream” is just another way of saying “nightmare,” we’re pretty sure that’s not what the broker is trying to say.
But we’ll say it: this place is a nightmare. Yes, the views are fine or whatever, but the cognitive dissonance that occurs while looking at this tackily decorated, wall-to-wall carpeted home that resembles nothing so much as an airport Radisson is intense, because it’s impossible to forget that this apartment’s price tag is the rough equivalent of the GDP some countries. It’s crazy! Even somewhat nice features are laughable because of how pointless they are; take, for example, the home gym (picture below), why is the rock climbing wall an estimated 9-feet-high? WHAT IS THE POINT OF THAT? None. There is no point. There is no point to anything really. Not when apartments that cost $32 million are so blandly ugly as to be offensive to all of us who have eyes. Like, seriously, give me a Trump-ian gilded palace! At least then you know where the money is going! This place is just so wrong on every level. If you want to depress yourself as thoroughly as I have depressed myself (which, pretty thoroughly!), go look at all the photos—all the ugly, ugly photos—over on Curbed.
And then, when you go home tonight, to your undoubtedly cheaper and better-decorated apartment, allow yourself to feel a little bit better about the fact that, no, you might not have $32 million, but at least you also don’t have shitty taste. Then, you know, cry yourself to sleep in your pillow. As one does.
Follow Kristin Iversen on twitter @kmiversen