The Ugly House On Martin Street

31 July 2008
Campbell Smith (Father)

I really like where we live. We're in a suburb called Gardenvale, and as the name suggests it's open and leafy. We've got a lovely little village with a wine shop, a couple of bakeries and a pizza joint. The local primary school is terrific and the beach is a twenty minute stroll from our front gate. All in all, a pedestrian's delight; perfect Mountain Buggy pram territory. But recently, something has entered our little perfect world and upset the balance. I don't feel safe walking down the road with the children anymore. I particularly worry about Indigo, our two-year-old, who hasn't seen enough of the world to know better. It's the Ugly House On Martin Street. The Ugly House On Martin Street (or UHOMS for short) stands inconsiderately on all the major pram routes between our house and all the things that we like to go to; the beach, the cafe, our kids' favourite playground with the pirate ship in it. I'm no expert, but I'd describe the style of the UHOMS as Hideous Gilded Faux French Maison. The criminal thing is, the UHOMS is brand new. The UHOMS is not some wierd anomaly from the past; somebody actually sat down with an architect and asked for this thing. It troubles me, it really does. If 'wrong' could be encapsulated in a single piece of architecture, the UHOMS would be it. From it's sloping terracotta tile roof to tthe gilded first floor balconies to the hideous sweeping staircase provocatively visible through the windows, the UHOMS is a clear threat to everything we in our suburb hold dear. Some parents worry about violent video games and global warming; I worry what this monstrosity is doing to my children's aesthetic sensibility. If my four kids see this as acceptable, what's next? Mock Tudor?