Every Thursday, McMansionHell will change the background of its icon to a new, particularly egregious McMansion, as our friend RR smiles on.
Many people have asked why Ronald Reagan is the figurehead of McMansionHell. The answer is quite simple, and not necessarily political: Through increasing tax cuts and (picking up where Jimmy Carter left off in 1980 when he increased the reach of the Federal Reserve), Reagan deregulated the Savings & Loan associations and to some extent parts of the investment banks (something Bill Clinton would complete with the repeal of Glass-Steagall). How does this apply to houses, you ask?
During Reagan’s administration, he signed theGarn–St Germain Depository Institutions Act of 1982 into law, which allowed banks to issue adjustable-rate mortgages, the kind of mortgages that ballooned during the years leading up to the great recession. When the Savings and Loan Industry went bust, Reagan, by bailing it out with taxpayer money, created a moral hazard, which led to riskier and riskier practices on the part of the investment banks. (We all know how this story ends up.)
The explosion in building fueled by these economic factors coupled with tax cuts for the wealthy enabled our frienemy, the McMansion, to go out into the world and flourish.
If you’re interested in learning more about the history of the McMansion, stay tuned, for there will be a Sunday Special with all the information you can get your hands on in the coming weeks!
This week’s McMansion is brought to you by the neighborhood of McLean, Virginia, infamous for being one of the most McMansion-ridden neighborhoods in all the land. The cause of this phenomenon? Nobody has more money and less taste than DC lobbyists, and this week’s McMansion proves it. On the market for $1,699,900 is this esteemed estate home, built in 2003:
This certified dank™ McMansion comes complete with 100% guaranteed bad decisions including:
• Pre-lawsuit EIFS cladding (aka “stucco”) exterior featuring “detailing” and “quoins” • Obese “rotunda” peppered with stick-on windows • Three pairs (count ‘em) of French doors that open out to spacious and luxurious balconies metal grills. • Great architecture: look at all those unique windows! • In typical McMansion style, this 9,702 square-foot house was built on a 0.82 acre lot, so there’s not much lawn to take care of- low maintenance! • No dealing with picky sellers here – this house is owned by the bank!
In all seriousness, this house was built cheap. 2003 was smack dab in the middle of the speculative housing boom, and bad mortgages fueled by investment bank gambling produced thousands of houses built just like this one. I tried to find data on how long this house has been in the bank’s possession, but alas my search came up empty.
The best part about this house? EVERY SINGLE ROOM IS BEIGE. (yes, that includes “honey beige.”)
Moving on to the inside:
Beginning our tour, we enter the house to reveal the textbook Church of Wasted Space (credit to @tikimama for the sweet phrase), an inescapable phenomenon. On the bright side, I bet this foyer has a seriously kick-ass echo.
Beige Count: 1
The Dining? Room Thing
Since there isn’t any furniture left in this house, it’s hard to tell the function of each room. This could either be a living room/den, or a dining room. I’m going with dining room because the ceilings are low, and you can peek into the kitchen.
When there are so many rooms in a house that each room loses their distinct function, a lot of the feeling of home gets lost, and rooms become places merely for things rather than people. In my opinion, anyway.
Beige Count: 2
On with our tour, which leads us to…
The Dining?? Room Thing
Huh, maybe this was the dining room. Lots of dining rooms have tons of panoramic windows and tile floors.
Beige Count: 3
Anyways, let’s move on to the next room which is
Maybe A Dining Room Still
ok I think this MIGHT be the living room, but so could the first dining room thing. I have no idea. My mind is numb to the possibility of any other type of room at this point.
Beige Count: 4
Dining room? Or is this a breakfast nook?? With a giant-ass chandelier??? Where does the nook end and the room begin??? Who am I???
Beige Count: 5
Ok I think we’re finally moving out of dining room territory.
The Kitchen
Now you’re probably thinking, but McMansionHell, what is wrong with this perfectly reasonable kitchen???
I’ll concede – the kitchen itself is not aesthetically displeasing. The displeasing part is how cheap the materials are. The cabinets look like they were made of plastic, the wall-mounted appliances don’t appear to be properly sealed. The wood-paneled dishwasher and refrigerator do not imitate the pattern of the cabinets around them. I’m not sure if that’s a wood-paneled oven beneath the stovetop, or if the only oven in the kitchen is the wall-mounted warming tray.
You know what the point of columns are? To support shit.
However, 99% of the time, McMansion builders didn’t care about that. To them, columns were there to show how rich you were. They put columns (also called pillars) on goddamn everything, even if it didn’t match the style of the house, or made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Before I get started on this informative roast guide to why McMansion columns are so goddamn awful, here’s a pic that explains the parts of a column so i don’t have to type it out:
Now, no one is saying that everyone has to follow the Classical Architectural Orders or anything like that. That shit is a billion years old. However, there are certain design guidelines for the sizing and spacing of columns that are not set in stone (pun intended) but they do work as generally good rules of thumb.
Column Placement & Sizing Rules of Thumb:
1.) Column Height: The height of a single story column should beat least 10 times the diameter of said column, e.g. if you have a 6-inch wide column, that column should be at least 60 inches tall. The height of a two-story column should be at least 8 times the diameter of said column. A two story column should always be wider than a single story column or else it looks pitiful.
2.) Column Spacing: It’s generally good practice to use an even number of columns to create an odd number of spaces, but this rule is, of course, flexible.
3.) Beam / Entablature Depth: Not all columns need to end in a full entablature, like in the photo above. Columns also end in a terminating beam, which has much fewer architectural details. The depth of an entablature refers to how tall it is. Apparently saying “entablature height” is too confusing.
The beam or entablature depth should be at least 2 times the diameter of the column supporting it. This means that having giant ass columns supporting a beam/entablature that is flush against the wall of the house makes it look stunted.
4.) Beam / Entablature Thickness: The beam thickness should be equal to the diameter of the columns supporting it.
McMansions suck shit at columns. A McMansion’s columns usually have at least one or more of the following flaws:
Column Catastrophes: How McMansions Abuse A Beloved Architectural Feature
1.) Columns are too damn tall, and the pediment is too damn big.
2.) Columns are too pathetic to support the mass and visual weight of the roof or pediment.
3.) Column spacing makes no sense or is over-complicated.
4.) Columns are the wrong architectural style relative to the rest of the design. Even if the column shaft is the right style, the base or the capital can still be architecturally incorrect.
Without further ado, let the roast begin.
Column Catastrophe No. 1: The Columns Are Too Damn Tall, & The Pediment is Too Damn Big.
This column catastrophe can also be described as having “a pediment with a house attached” rather than the proper “house with a pediment attached.” Often, the columns, entablature and pediment are out of scale with the primary mass of the home, forming a secondary mass that completely dominates the facade. The below house would be a lovely and well-designed house if it weren’t for the, well…
Note how the builder establishes architectural rhythm through the visual continuation between the roofline and the cornice of the pediment.
Column Catastrophe No. 2: Columns too puny to support the weight of whatever it is they’re holding up.
This is by far the most common McMansion column faux pas, and often the most hilarious. Pediments and roofs carry a certain amount of not only physical, but visual weight. Columns that are too short or too small to properly support this weight make the house seem stunted and poorly planned.
Some prime examples:
Column Catastrophe No. 3: Numbers of Columns, and their Grouping/Spacing Makes No Goddamn Sense
Even-numbered columns work best because our eyes can easily group them together in even numbered group. That odd-ball column really messes things up for us. Huge or small gaps between columns can throw off the architectural rhythm of the facade. In some designs, there are too many columns or not enough.
Finally, we reach our last stop on the lame train:
Column Catastrophe No. 4: The Columns Don’t Match the Architecture of the Rest of the House
Certain styles of architecture (such as the Craftsman style) require aesthetic consistency in order to look authentic. Putting Doric or Corinthian columns on a Craftsman-styled house looks really dumb and out of place. Got a Federal or Colonial revival-styled house? Don’t put craftsman-styled columns on it. You would think this would be simple to understand, but apparently it totally isn’t.
There we have it, folks! Stay tune for the next McMansions 101: Mansion vs McMansion - Part 1, where we discuss what distinguishes a proper mansion from its whore cousin the McMansion.
All real estate photos are screenshots of real-estate aggregate Zillow.com. The use of this content is for the purposes of education, satire, and parody, consistent with 17 USC §107.
Today’s certified dank ™ McMansion is in Montville Township, NJ. It has 6 bedrooms, 7 full baths (2 half baths), and a 4 car garage. This lovely home, built in 2004 can be yours for the low price of $2,250,000.
Obviously a house with that price tag has to be of incredible quality, with impeccable architecture, constructed from only the finest of materials.
Never mind, it’s this clusterfuck. If David Koresh were into McMansions, this would totally be his jam.
The inside of this house looks like the inside of a boat. I’m not kidding, just see for yourself
On to the kitchen, which somehow came out of an Ikea catalog from 1995:
