By Literary Hub | Created at 2025-01-29 20:15:18 | Updated at 2025-01-30 17:19:37
21 hours ago
January 29, 2025, 2:35pm
The late Jackie Collins left an eccentric legacy. In addition to the loving family, spicy reputation, and 32(!) bestselling bodice-rippers and crime dramas, there’s. This. House.
Though perhaps “house” isn’t quite the right word for a bespoke multi-million-dollar mansion whose architect was apparently inspired by David Hockney’s “A Bigger Splash.”
The property—henceforth to be known as Ms. Collins’ Estate—is on the market again after a short stint in the hands of a real estate mogul. The current owners bought the place for $25 million dollars in 2016. But they hope to flip it for nearly thrice that. That’s right, reader. For a cool $66 million, a wonderful piece of pulp literary history could be yours.
Only note—the current owners have “taken the house down to the studs” in a massive renovation, so Ms. Collins’ Estate is now home to an elevator, gym, movie theater and a vaguely named “solar energy system.” But one hopes a few original features remain.
Maybe the en suite study—vision of the architect, Ardie Tavangarian? Or perhaps the living room with the built-in bookshelves?
Probably, you and I will never know. Needless to say, very few novelists have ever kissed Collins’ tax bracket, let alone zip code. Though she seems not to have lacked for artistic company in the Hills. Al Pacino was a former tenant.
And given the unseemly price tag—all the more so for dropping in the midst of a nascent housing crisis in fire-torn LA—I’m thinking top bidders only. The house is appealingly located in the Flats, a neighborhood that mostly managed to survive the blaze.
As a renting plebe, I just see the news as a nice occasion to remember Ms. Collins. The author/actress/producer, who died in 2015, was depending on who you asked either a “raunchy moralist,” the “queen of sleaze,” or “Hollywood’s own Marcel Proust.”
My favorite remembrance is from the novelist Barbara Cartland, who once told Jackie she was “responsible for all the perverts in England.”
Recently, critics have debated her feminist credentials. But I’m of the tackier stripe, I dwell on the jewels.
