Today, a peek at an extensively gut rehabbed 1919 Colonial Revival in West Hollywood — a true dream home, if you will — that recently hit the market for a cool $2.1 million.
Offering “refined design aesthetic and finesse in every detail,” the distinctive property
comes complete with three spacious bedrooms, a guest house, a solar-heated swimming pool, and, one would hope, a lifetime supply of No-Doz. Regrettably, some of the 2,372-square-foot home’s more unique details — marshmallow stairs, trip wires, security bars on the windows and doors, bottles of hooch tucked away in every cabinet, tongue phones
, and a bathtub that doubles as a portal to some sort of hellish abyss — have not been preserved. Instead, they've been replaced with some rather regrettable “traditional/modernist fusion” elements including orange creamsicle Caesarstone countertops, an acrylic Eero Aarnio-style hanging Bubble Chair, and a "floating spa tub" the size of a boat.
Yep, 1428 N.
Genesee Ave., the teenage home (the exteriors were, anyway) of coffee-guzzling horror movie heroine Nancy Thompson, is officially on the market after undergoing an extensive renovation. According to public record, current owner Angie Hill purchased the home — a home that was prominently featured not only in Wes Craven's original “Nightmare on Elm Street” (1984) but in the second and seventh installments of the popular franchise as well — in 2006 for $1.15 million. As detailed in an October 2012 article for AOL Real Estate
, Hill faced an array of terrors
when she bought the fixer-upper and none of them had to do with a malevolent burn victim named Freddy Krueger stalking her in her sleep.
“It was horrible," Hill explained to AOL Real Estate. "It was the only house on the street that looked beaten up .... The pool looked like it hadn't been touched in 10 years — it was black." She goes on to describe the neglected home as having “the weirdest vibe. You could feel the weird energy. There was a really oppressive odor."
After smudging the home (but of course), Hill went about a massive interior rehabbing project that involved removing 90 percent of the home and replacing the walls, roof, ceiling, etc. "I replaced every piece of wood and reconfigured the floor plan," Hill said of the year-long endeavor. "I ripped off half the house." Here's hoping that all those building materials found a happy afterlife at a local Habitat for Humanity ReStore.
In the article, Hill was quick to point out that she loves the home dearly despite the fact that she used to be scared to go in the basement and that it attracts a fair amount of looky-loos and tour buses. Yet here she is selling. Maybe over the past couple of months she's discovered something hidden in the furnace that she’d rather not talk about? Maybe there was an incident with the front door
? Could it have been the young schoolgirls who kept appearing in the front yard singing creepy jump rope rhymes?
Who knows but deep-pocketed Freddy fans better act quick if they’re looking to scoop up one of cinema’s most instantly recognizable — and nightmare-inducing — abodes.