A note to Candy Spelling

Candy Spelling dahl-ing, I can certainly relate to your life these days. You’re giving up your 56,500 square feet Holmby Hills manse to move into 16,500 square feet of condo space in Century City. I had to do the same. Well, maybe your dimensions are larger but our percentage is somewhat similar.

When I moved to Italy, I gave up my nearly 2,000 square-foot townhouse with a backyard and garage for much smaller digs for a year in Florence then 15 months in Positano. Afterward, I spent four years in New York City in various 500-square-foot apartments.  So I’m here to tell you Candy, it can be done. You may not like it. But then again, a story in today’s L.A. Times said you’re not even sure how many rooms you have in The Manor, which has been on the block for eight months at $150 million and is not being reduced. Do you know how many rooms I had in a couple of my Manhattan apartments? One room plus a bath and kitchen. No flower-cutting room, gift-wrapping room, wine cellar/tasting room, barbershop, silver storage room and the such for me. Your service wing has five maids’ bedrooms and two butlers’ suites. My overnight guests had to share a bed with me and I considered it a big deal when I had enough room in one apartment to push my bed over a few feet and put a blow-up Aerobed next to mine.

I embraced my downsizing (to a point) and am sure you will too. Being forced to live in smaller quarters taught me how not to be a pack rat and how not to spend money frivolously on kitchen gadgets I might never use or clothes I may never wear. I only kept a year’s worth of magazines on hand and shredded docs on a regular basis. I not-so-kindly asked publicists to quit mailing unsolicited press kits to my home as not only did I not have any room to store them but it was a waste of trees and their clients’ money. I adhered to the rule of if I hadn’t worn it in a year then I had to get rid of it. Because I’ve always loved to entertain, I reserved the party room in the luxurious Manhattan high-rise ($2541 a month for 500 sq. ft) I lived for a year and planned to give an Emmy party. Then I realized, I didn’t have any of the proper party accoutrements, such as serving dishes, etc. If I bought those things then I wouldn’t have anywhere to store them afterward because my kitchen was full. And so was under my bed. So I cancelled the party.

Now that I’m back in my spacious (by my standards) pad, I wonder where is all of my stuff. I went to my closet in search of a white skirt this summer and there was not even one. I guess I gave the one or two I had away when I lived in NYC. I could have sworn I had more shoes and purses than what is in my closet. Why did my friend Renata have to go to a store to buy me a USC shirt the morning of last Saturday’s homecoming game? Because I had somehow tossed my lone USC sweatshirt too, although I know I could still fit it. The holidays are coming and I don’t have a red sweater. What happened to them? I had three George Foreman grills. Why do I now only have one, and the smallest one at that? Over the summer as I prepared for my high school reunion picnic I realized I didn’t have an ice chest. I know I used to have one or two. Stacked in the closet in my office are oodles of boxes of books purchased when I lived in Italy and New York. What happened to my bookcases? Where are all of those flower vases I somehow accumulated? I remember a stick mixer that I won in a raffle at a company holiday function when I worked at the Pittsburgh Press in the late 80s. I never used the gadget but I looked for it the other day. It’s gone too. I have an ironing board but no iron, not that I’ve ironed in a decade or so (that’s why dry cleaners are for) but overnight visitors expect me to have one.

When I was away, I just assumed some of these effects were in storage. But they weren’t. I gave away more than I realized since I never  planned on coming back from Italy and continuously purged in NYC.

Now that I’m in L.A., I want my stuff again. Candy, I don’t know what you plan to do with all of your belongings on your 4.7 acre property aptly called Candyland. You can’t take everything with you and I have a feeling you’re not giving anything to your daughter Tori Spelling. So if you’re looking for someplace to unload your unwanted possessions, look this way. I have room.

Here’s the condo building Candy plans to move into next year. She bought the top two floors for $47 million.



Filed under economy, Italy

3 responses to “A note to Candy Spelling

  1. urbantravelgirl

    First off, I hope Candy Spelling somehow gets hold of your article and provides you with an “early Christmas” as she (or actually her hired help) dispenses of some of her things! LOL

    Seriously, though, just reading about how you effectively downsized your life in order to move to Italy and then to NYC really inspired me. I have SO much junk and papers and old reporters’ notebooks and clothes in size 0 and XS that I will NEVER be able to wear again, even if I went on a year-long starvation diet that I need to spend my Christmas break this year cleaning out my closet and these moving boxes that are still stashed in a corner of my apartment.

    I know it’s true that at least for me, all this clutter is symbolic of a cluttered mind. Getting rid of this STUFF will allow me to make room psychologically for many of the more needed and realistic things in my life. So instead of packing my bags for an overseas trip over the holidays, I’ll pack some GARBAGE bags and clean up my life!


    • Ciao Maureen,

      I agree that a cluttered house is a cluttered mind. I didn’t bring my bistro dining table for two from NY because it’s too small for my dining room. I had planned to take back the dining table and living room furniture I gave to a friend before I left. But then I got here and decided I need new furniture. Of course I haven’t bought any, partly because I don’t know what I want and furniture shopping is exhausting and partly because I’m poor and can’t afford anything anyway.

      But truthfully I love having the empty dining room and a half-empty living room. I did bring my oversized chair, which you may remember, but not my chaise from NY. I had left a chaise here with another friend and planned to retrieve it also but again, I don’t want it now that I’m here.

      When I need a break from writing the manuscript, I go downstairs in these two bare rooms it actually gives me pleasure to be surrounded by emptiness. I think it clears my head.

      When I finish with the book, I will have to deal with the oodles of photos I have in boxes stacked in the guest bedroom. I am sure that I do not need 100 photos taken at a zoo in Hawaii when I was in college. And I’m sure I can downsize the number of photos taken at weddings of couples no longer together.

      Are you really going to spend the holidays purging?


  2. Dianne


    I see her every week at “OUR” Acupuncturist, I can pass along your message or post it on my FB as she
    is a “friend”.

    I am happy to do both!

    I agree with Maureen about sparseness in being
    a healing energy.


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