This place has amazing potential. With the right decorator and an entire army of folks to steam away the old, hideous, and stained wallpaper it could make a real show piece home. Sadly, we’ll probably never see the results. But if the clutter removal still doesn’t help it sell, if someone has to flip it to move it, I hope you can find the next listing incarnation for us to peruse.

As for what we do see here… the place is a lot, and I mean a lot less clutter, but ya know… it doesn’t really look much better. The colors and patterns that haven’t been changed are still close to being hideous. Poor house… just can’t catch a break. Guess it’s back to rehab… again.

Take a Fresh Look at this home’s NEW PHOTOS and NEW PRICE!

Believe it or not, there’s a lot more of that stuff still for sale to the public – a lot – because apparently it’s still being made. (O_o)

http://www.designtoscano.com/

I have to admit, some of the items on their own are kind of nice. But not en masse and not with all the different styles mashed together!! :O

Yet according to the listing… “Awards-2009 William F. Brown-Historic Preservation, 2012 Monte Cristo Pride of Neighborhood, 2010 Historic Everett Home Tour.” I wonder if they’ll revoke No 2 if Edmond Dantès escapes the basement…

A possible answer to both observations is that it’s a nice house that somehow just got involved with the wrong crowd. An intervention, a bit of rehab, some ongoing therapy and it’ll be fine. The good thing about steroids is, once you stop them, your weird-ass looks do, in time, go back to normal. As long as you didn’t damage the basics – heart, brain, etc – it’ll be OK.

There seems to be no hearth disease; in fact it’s in great shape. The spine/staircase is sound (the twist could be from scoliosis), and all the mental facilities are intact beneath the histrionic bath/kitchen schlock. Still, particular points to address in therapy (among hundreds): sheet music hanging from the living room ceiling; disembodied disco ball atop a bed of feathers on the dining table; and a pathological need to display only portions of famous paintings.

It’ll take a lot of hard work, clearing out the bad habits and inappropriate world view, but I’m positive the patient can make a full recovery.

In the fourth picture above, there’s a sign on the wall in the hall, “Live Your Dreams.” If I were having dreams like that, I’d get help. Or, as Marty infers, perhaps the whole point of the place is to make sure you never, ever sleep again. Just in case.