Gilded
The Edsel…read moreand Eleanor Ford House is, on the surface, a spectacular estate.The architecture--a refined lakeside Cotswold-style manor--is stunning. The grounds are immaculate. And yet, the overall experience left me with one word: tacky.
Not tacky in the sense of bad taste, but tacky in the way a museum can be when it doesn't trust its audience. The message throughout is clear: Please, middle class, come see how the well-to-do lived--but on our terms, at our pace, behind our ropes.
You arrive, eager to explore, only to find the doors locked until a specific tour time. So you wait. Outside. Like a guest at a party no one's ready to let you into. Once inside, you're sorted: self-guided vs. those who paid more for a guided tour. I could only imagine if a self-guided were to stand close and eavesdrop!
Then come the barriers. Physical and psychological. You can see how the ultra-rich lived, but do not step deep into most rooms. Velvet ropes whisper stay back. Much of the art has been replaced with copies--originals long ago donated to the DIA (how generous, but also how convenient for security). Even the books are brazenly zip-tied together, presumably to deter mischief or theft.
A low point? The kitchen. There, plastic, shiny faux-food--maybe straight from Target's preschool toy aisle--sits arranged to show what a prep area might have looked like. A plastic ham! A plastic cake! Oh, in a prep area!
You crane your neck into an ahead-of-its-time bathroom like a zoo visitor spotting a rare animal. Yes, this very bathroom. The one someone used. Then you learn it wasn't ahead-of-its-time bathroom--this was what wealth bought for you!
There's the playhouse--charming, yes, with electricity. Oh, it's a house.
The Ford's philanthropy, parenting, and perfection are woven into every communication: nannies were present, but they were involved. Citizens, yes. Philanthropists, absolutely. Divine beings, apparently.
The whole thing feels less like history and more like hagiography--a shrine to benevolent gods who once walked among us, now preserved in amber and zip ties.
Verdict: Tacky. See it on your own if you must, but honestly, try an online tour first. It probably has more dimension, access, and interesting details than what you'll get on foot.
