Available only to those who fly private, the new design publication "Private Tour: Extraordinary Homes" tries to soar above criticism. Where’s the fun in that?
In the design world, we don’t give enough credit to the haters: The folks who gleefully watch the TikToks about 432 Park Avenue falling apart; the readers who peruse a story from beginning to end trying to find out why an architect made design decisions they find questionable; those who scrutinize client furniture choices or open an issue of AN Interiors just to scoff at yet another house with enormous plate glass windows. The people who cracked jokes about the tiny home movement, who take to Instagram to call out the lack of a privacy partition between the shower and toilet—they’re all an important part of the ecosystem. This industry, in its most precarious state, relies on your critique, your schadenfreude, your clever takes, because it is one based fundamentally on taste. The "hate-read" has become a way of developing (or affirming) one’s particular sense of style (after all, to figure out what you love means to discover what you don’t) and its performance has become an essential part of reader engagement.
While not everyone with a nice house wants to open themselves to that type of criticism, many are happy to share regardless. From Martha Stewart using her own Connecticut estate as a set for her wildly popular shows to independent creators on social media, home voyeurism has long been an issue of taste, wealth, and desire, even when rooted in disgust. But some seem to want to avoid that type of engagement entirely: Last month, publisher Sandow released a new book, Private Tour: Extraordinary Homes, that features 15 residential projects across 240 pages. Inaccessible to the casual magazine voyeurs, this book will exclusively be available to those lounging in private aviation terminals—essentially the ultrawealthy. Called "a design book for billionaires" by Dwell’s sister publication Business of Home, they write that the book is "a tacit acknowledgment of the true target audience for design books: potential clients." But where does that leave the hate-reader, or even the public at large? It’s yet another way that the wealthy are insulating themselves from the public eye.
The cover of Private Tour: Extraordinary Homes, published by Sandow.
Courtesy Sandow
The concept of the shelter publication hasn’t changed very much since the early days of the 20th century. At its root, publications would provide a space for proud residents to display their homes, and the architects and designers involved would be able to showcase their work. Of course the intent to guide consumers was always present: In 1993, the New York Times wrote that House & Garden was bought by Condé Nast in 1915 "to do for interiors what Condé Nast had done for fashion: Help the socially insecure including the wives of railroad barons," who, quoting Nast biographer Caroline Seebohm, "had huge houses on Fifth Avenue and didn’t know what to do with them."
Design media’s audiences extend far beyond those shopping for an architect; shelter magazines don’t exclusively exist to inform the wealthy about what they can do with their gargantuan spaces. For the aficionados, the architecture-curious, hobbyists, collectors, even fans of the homeowner, the act of looking into someone else’s space isn’t about sussing out which designer you would one day like to hire. Architect Jeff Gillway, who runs his own small practice, has had several projects published in varying outlets. His personal Washington, D.C., home, which he also designed, was featured in Dwell’s March/April issue this year, and he says that while getting it published got him a few new clients—a boon for his new practice—he also appreciates that the general public (the haters included) can access his work. "I love that I can put a project out in the world, and that people can ask me questions and I answer them and they can DIY it, they can be inspired by it, they can copy it," he says. Since his house was published, Gillway has fielded questions about furniture manufacturers, paint colors, and more. In one of his earlier projects, a rehabbed Gothic Victorian in Nebraska, he chose dark, rich paint colors to evoke the building’s pre-electricity era. When it was published on Remodelista’s Instagram, the public reactions were mixed. "One pretty funny comment was, ‘No thanks. It’s where the nervous breakdown and subsequent murder-suicide took place.’" Extreme? Absolutely, he continues, "but I kind of love that."
Martha Stewart working in her Westport, Connecticut, home kitchen in 1976.
Photo by Susan Wood/Getty Images
But the everyday reader will have trouble getting their hands on a copy of Private Tour; distributing via private jet operators means that just one particular type of audience will have access to its featured spaces. Per Sandow’s research, BoH notes that "private-jet travelers have an average of 3.5 homes and a net worth of $190 million." As a commercial coach flyer, I haven’t been able to see inside its gated pages. And as a writer at Dwell—a publication that isn’t universally accessible at its price point—I’m well aware of necessary paid subscriptions and rising costs to publish. Sandow’s resolution to the challenge, BoH continues, was to tap 15 architectural firms to fund the book in exchange for their project coverage, rendering it a hardcover advertisement.
And in some ways, that’s totally reasonable. After all, design firms need work. Tellingly, the advent of shelter magazines in the early 20th century came alongside the American Institute of Architects’ decision to outlaw public advertising for architectural services in 1909. But what seems particularly troubling about this book is the way it echoes how the billionaire class has isolated itself from view, retreating further away from the untouchable public. As they gobble up resources (private jets are far less efficient than passenger liners, emitting between five and 14 times more CO2) and tax breaks, they’ve used their wealth to build beautifully decorated bunkers for their increasingly exclusive lives.
A Private Tour spread featuring a home in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, designed by CLB
Architects with interior design by WRJ Design.
Courtesy Sandow
See the full story on Dwell.com: Let Me Read the "Design Book for Billionaires"
