heiresses

Last month, the California housing market got a huge boost when the younger daughter of Formula 1 boss Bernie Ecclestone decided to buy Candy Spelling’s 57,000 square foot house. At the time we noted that despite what the haters had to say (that this was “a gift from daddy to his spoiled little girl”), Petra clearly purchased the spread not simply because it’d be a nice vacation house when she visits the states (her primary residence is a a six-story house in London’s Chelsea neighborhood purchased for £56 million) but as a shrewd business decision that would be a boon not only to California but her own portfolio. Over the weekend, Ecclestone confirmed just that, telling an interviewer “It was a great investment. It’s prime real estate and I got a really good deal.” Continue reading »

Petra and dad

As I’m sure many of you know, after 90210 creator Aaron Spelling died, his wife Candy decided to downsize. She put her house on the market and moved into a $35 million 15,555 square foot condo, figuring it wouldn’t be too long before the place sold. Unfortunately, at the end of 2008, not too many people were looking for homes that had names (“The Manor”), 57,000 square feet, rooms solely devoted to gift-wrapping and asking prices of $150 million. Though she was probably advised to knock a few zeros off, Candy, the little known inspiration for Heather Locklear’s Melrose Place character, held her ground and refuse to budge on the price. Recently it started looking like the house that shows about teenagers getting high and humping built would never get sold, until a little lady named Petra Ecclestone swooped in and saved the day. Continue reading »

As you’re likely aware, there are a whole bunch of people who’ve been giving Lloyd Blankfein shit for the past year or so. Pissant members of Congress, peasants, PETA. They’ve been a bit of a nuisances but their impotent rage has been fairly easy to brush and in many cases laugh off. None of them are writing books about GS and most of them cannot claim to know that the firm’s founder, Marcus Goldman, or his son, Henry, would be pissed about how the place has “changed.” And then you have June Breton Fishe, great granddaughter and granddaughter of Marcus and Hank, respectively. She is writing a book on how much better things were when her relatives were running the place and she has a couple grievances to air with Mr. B. Such as, respect, or a lackthereof as indicated by this shit:

“The entryway on Goldman Sachs’s executive floor is hung with paintings of all the senior partners since the firm’s inception,” says June Breton Fisher. “I took a close look and finally asked, ‘Where’s my grandfather?’”

He wasn’t there. No portrait, no photograph, not even a snapshot recalled Henry Goldman, the founder’s son whose financial innovations created the modern banking business.

Oh, and do you want her opinion on “the current situation” over at 200 West (which I think we’re supposed to infer as “the state of Goldman being a criminal enterprise”)? No? Well you’re gonna get it anyway. Continue reading »