Old Westbury Gardens

Steel and shipping money funded the early 20th-century construction of the Phipps mansion on Long Island.  Second-generation wealth affords its beneficiaries the opportunity to live high on the hog when they're young and beautiful.  Jay's father had partnered with Andrew Carnegie to build a business that grew into US Steel.  The crafty patriarch also made a mint in Palm Beach real estate.  The park where Thom and I took Magda, Joe and the D-Girls for a panzanella picnic is named after him.

 

Jay married Margarita Grace, as in the W.R. Grace building on West 42nd Street in Manhattan.  Her uncle started a shipping business in South America which now has morphed into a chemical company.

The mansion's Carolean style (named for the previous King Charles, who reigned from 1600 to 1685, after the Restoration of the British monarchy) helped assuage Margarita's homesickness for Sussex, England.  Boomers may remember the classic brick structure as Oliver Barrett IV's family home in Love Story.    

Fireplaces heat nearly every room, although there appear to be only two chimneys.  The mansion definitely has a lived-in, almost neglected feel.  

The Phipps took occupancy in 1906; it became a museum 52 years later.  Little has changed although the fake candles in the chandeliers, candelabra and sconces need to go IMHO.

Beautiful wallpaper--some in need of serious restoration--decorates nearly every room.

Step outdoors on a sunny morning and enjoy the extensive, well-tended gardens.  

There's a thatched cottage

a rose garden

and a walled garden.

Lifelike sculptures adorn the property.

Only Thom would notice that the artist painted these women's toenails.

He took me to Old Westbury Gardens for my birthday.  Florian and I had visited in 2005, when the incredible shell mosaics behind the pool were still accessible.

Entry to the 2022 Great Marques Concours D'Elegance was included with our admission. That's a very fancy name for a car show.  When we pulled up in Delia, Thom's  400 SL Mercedes convertible, the ticket taker asked "Are you spectating or exhibiting?"   That's because Mercedes owners dominated the show, especially since the Porsche crowd was mostly no-show.  The license plate on this warhorse reminded me of my grandfather.

Note the automatic transmission on this early Mercedes convertible.  Authenticity is the primary criterion for judging entries.  "Every bolt has to be factory manufactured," observed one exhibitor.

Ken would have asked the owner of this Porsche Speedster to open the rear hood for a peek at the engine.

Like father, like son.  If I could own any car in the world it would be a Porsche.  I'd drive it as fast as James Dean, too.

This anomaly, a 1949 Woodie, would have been the perfect ride to Jones Beach, our next destination.

Always a rebel without a cause, even at 69!

Thanks again, Thom, for a perfect day with another panzanella picnic at the beach!   And the fresh corn niblets I had  for dinner that night.