Saturday night Jackson was all set to go to a sleepover at a neighbor’s house. We packed up his odds and ends, at which time I discovered that his sleeping bag smelled like Cookie’s butt. Gamely setting sail against the fact that my son might for years to come be remembered as that kid whose sleeping bag smelled like unwashed bulldog, I rolled him on up to the birthday boy’s door and knocked, wherewith the celebratee answered and mumbled something about having a cold. The sleepover had been cancelled! Thanks for the phone call alerting us to this in advance so that we could find a babysitter!
“Jackson,” I said, “it looks like you’re going to a wedding.”
The wedding was held at the multimillion dollar house that Jack’s company had pretty much finished only that morning. Jack’s business partner was the one getting married, to the architect/designer, as it happens. Romance amongst the building trades! It is a tale as old as time itself.
Jack’s pretty good about separating work from his home life. The result of this policy is both peace of mind and the fact that Jack knew everyone there and I knew virtually no one. Normally in situations like this I’m grateful to have Jackson to goof off with and take pictures of to keep myself occupied until I strike up a conversation with a the first person to offer me a spiced hamachi hors d’oeuvre. Above we have a guest-free shot of one of the more intriguing exterior details of this house: the flaming water feature.
And next to that: metal conga drums, all set up for an impromptu drum circle.
The wedding was timed to take place at sunset. The grooms wore matching white velvet Armani jackets.
These hooligans stayed in the back.
I have no idea who these people are.
After the lovely, funny ceremony there was a mile-long reception line. Jack was already deep in conversation with a client, Jackson had befriended two bartenders and the four or five other kids that were there, so I wandered around taking pictures of the house. This room is meant to be the lady of the house’s office. As you can see, I bent to popular will and wore the gray suit.
Check out that tile! The interior details were impeccable, both the choices and the installation. Jack is known for demanding a high level of finish from his subcontractors. You either do it right or you do it again.
I always like how blue it looks outside this time of day.
I really dig that chair.
Eventually I found Jackson and all the other kids in the media room watching SpongeBob on one screen and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on the other, while occasionally practicing mixed martial gymnastics on the enormous white couch.
Occasionally different women would come through and shriek NO FOOD ON THE COUCH! or QUIT PLAYING WITH THE ELECTRIC DRAPES! I don’t know who they thought I was — an ineffectual babysitter? But I was surprised at how some of these women talked to kids. I guess I don’t get out much, but under my admittedly lax supervision, everyone under age 8 (that was three kids) deserved one turn to press the button that opens and closes the awesome automatic drapes, and then they were done. I realize I’m more on the casual end of the parenting spectrum, however, and maybe all the nervous mom energy that blew threw the room every twenty minutes was born of hard experience having to pay for broken shit, so I will cut them some slack. But can we all agree to talk to kids in a normal tone of non-condescending, non-shouty voice? THAT WOULD BE GREAT.
I didn’t get a lot of shots I wanted, like of the kitchen, or of the bedroom with the yellow night stands, or of the landscape architect with the horizontal red-and-white striped silk jacket. Or of the man with the jewel-encrusted bee on his shoulder who said I looked like Katharine Hepburn. “Katharine Hepburn with bad hair, you mean?” I’m always quick with a conversation killer! A committee needs to look into why I feel compelled to turn every compliment into an insult. But also, my feet were fucking killing me. I hate wearing heels.
At the height of my need to sit down and throw my shoes into the nearest fireplace, I finally found someone both Jack and I knew: Chris, who provided the solo acoustic guitar interludes before and during the ceremony. The combined mental musical inventory of both Chris and Jack has seemed to warp the fabric of time and space here, or else there was some sort of solar flare up that only my camera could detect. Better dig out that owner’s manual.
Chris and I ended up having a long chat by the pool. I actually had played in a quartet with him years ago, guitar, cello, and 1st and 2nd flute (me). There’s nothing more humbling than playing a classical piece with professional musicians at breakneck speed, getting totally lost, and then just putting down your instrument and waiting for everyone else to come to a disgusted halt. Fortunately, Chris didn’t bring up this painful memory, yay.
And then we went home and waited for those four Cokes Jackson drank to work their way out of his system, the end.
When I first read this I thought “A sleeping bag that smells like cookie? AWESOME!” Then I realized it was the dog
Two TVs in one room is absolute madness, a little genius as well though, I suppose. That tile is GORGEOUS. As were/are you.
“But can we all agree to talk to kids in a normal tone of non-condescending, non-shouty voice? THAT WOULD BE GREAT.” Yes, agreed. Why do people shout at their children anyway?
1. Two grooms, yay!
2. Wow, astonishing house.
3. You (and yours) looked fabulous.
I didn’t vote, cause I couldn’t decide. The grey suit is/was perfect. Is that what we picked? If so, yay us.
Gorgeous house! Your son might be the coolest kid ever. The grey suit looked fabulous!
Jules
House of Jules
Wow. That is an amazing house. My husband is still drooling over the media room. I’m sort of partial to the library with the brown rug and awesome chair.
When I was 7 years old, my uncle got married and we stayed in a VERY fancy hotel in Seattle. Upon arrival, my Aunt Wendy let me press every button in the elevator, and we got off on every floor and looked around. BUT, I knew that because we did that when we first arrived, that we’d not be doing it again. And, I don’t think I even pressed the subject. I got it out of my system early on and I was happy.
That is still I think my most favorite memory of my aunt.
I think you might have the cutest kid ever!
Lovely post from beginning to end. What everyone said.
Your quartet memory prompts me to share one which may have been equally embarrassing.
Imagine a recorder octet (SSAATTBB) playing a 4-part Bach fugue, one where the basses enter alone, the tenors join them after a few bars, and so on, until all are playing.
On one memorable occasion, for some reason, the basses corpsed. It spread to the whole eight of us. One cannot play the recorder while stifling hysterical giggles. We fight for control, we think we have it; we start again. We were mistaken. And again.
You so purdy Mrs Kennedy.
Also, wow, what a house. Were you not tempted to steal stuff? I would have been. Just, you know, the odd spoon. Or cushion. Or TV.
Good GOD, that is a beautiful house. I want one!!!
Your little man is a young Tom Petty.
Also, that is one amazing hizzy. Hell, the couch and the TVs alone nearly provided me with a ‘happy ending’. It’s probably a good thing you didn’t post any pictures of the kitchen, because then I’d have to bookmark this entry as ‘porn’.
Your son has “future star” written all over him
p.s., this was a mob wedding, wasn’t it? A gay mob maybe, but mob none the less.
Jackson looked awesome, like Miami Vice for kids
Love his hair, my son’s is that length.
That house makes me angry! Because I’m jealous for a life that is easy, where you own a house that is worth so much you would never have to worry about paying your water bill.
Really great pictures.
Jackson’s stylish threads are making me jealous. I want to look like a rock star! (Although, Tom Petty would not be my first choice.)
Smashing grey suit. I like your hair long.
I’d have given those drapes a run for their money as well.
A house truly is not a home without a flaming water feature and metal bongo decor.
Hi! I’ve been reading for several months now, I read all of your archives awhile back when I followed a link here from bad news hughes (does he still blog? I think he stopped, but I haven’t checked in awhile). Anyway, just wanted to say that I really enjoyed Jackson’s tie/aviators combo, just like the rest of the ladies here. He seems to look more like Jack the older he gets, maybe?
I also wanted to second that whole “turn every compliment into an insult” thing. I do that all the time as well. Oh! I made a new friend… she must not have anyone else to hang out with. Oh! I lost 2 lbs… my scale’s batteries are probably dying. You know how it goes.
Lovely photos, Mrs. K. Thanks for taking us along to your fancy-schmancy wedding party. I don’t get out much.
glad you chose to wear the gray suit, you look lovely. and your son is very cute. beautiful house. wow. (i would have liked to hear about the food. just because it s my personal obsession…)
Wow. That looks exactly like my house in every way except not at all.
You all look amazing. That first picture of Jackson is blindingly good.
I LOVE ‘Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose.’ It lives in the old Tate Gallery just up the road from here and I always spend more time looking at that one painting than the rest of the gallery combined.
Oh, to live somewhere you can hang paper lanterns outside, it’s warm enough at night to go and look at them, and they won’t get pissed on with rain.
Wow, that house is just gorgeous!
That is one beautiful home. Not quite my style, but a lot of great ideas and pics.
Wow – your husband is a very talented individual (not to mention genius for marrying you) and I love Jackson for being so cool. Obviously he was born with a huge coolness factor – I hope he never outgrows it. I would have loved you in the pink halter dress, but the grey works with the ambience of the house and gardens. What a palace…
I’ll bet that wedding cost more than my house. But what a beautiful celebration.
I loved that photo of the blue sky, something about it just called me back to look at it several times.
Yeah, who cares about all the ritzy bullshit – Jack is one TALL drink of water (hubba hubba) and Jackson could not be cuter in his suit.
Also, I’m with you about how adults talk to kids – isn’t it awful? Those will be the adults who wonder why their kids end up strung out on drugs plotting to kill them for their money and plush pads!!
*I know, say what you really think, Angie – I hear it all the time:)
P.S. Love your suit.
Ahh! Hannibal Lector is free and posting comments!
Goddamn, the gays have good taste. That house is nuts.
what a dreamy house!
Congrats to the happy couple. D.H. also a general contractor in northern ca. but have managed to avoid the new house as setting for nuptials partner of g.c. guest appearence so far, ( god bless mom and son’s long summer vacations). jackson such a combo of you both as he grows. grey suit was killer. love checking in on your blog, where’s the effing book?
Wow! Does anybody really need that much stuff?
I guess I’m just jealous. If I could afford flaming waters I’d have them in a heartbeat.
My goodness, your husband is so cute. And your son is adorable!
Love the sunglasses.
As for the house, I kept thinking it reminded me of the WB. It is just too pretty to be real. What a great new place for the newlyweds.
Your son and husband are so cool, they should have their own Quentin Tarantino movie. Seriously.
Loved the grey suit also, you looked fantastic.
The picture I loved the most was of the bathroom looking at the blue light. I would wash my hands over and over looking at that. Your husband is gifted.
Shows how much I pay attention. I looked at all the pictures,read the comments and then went, “Hey, two grooms?” Nice that I didn’t even blink though, you know?
You didn’t tell me the wedding involved two grooms with exquisite taste Eden, I would probably have stuck to the grey suit, without question, then.
Obviously you haven’t met the Hollywood Juicyfluff I have, something for which you should kiss the asphalt in front of K-Mart. Honest.
I loved your photos and this post. Ritzy weddings are the closest I’ll ever get to this level of luxury.