This ritzy Victorian is in Georgetown’s East Village, which is basically the Georgetown of Georgetown. If people on the west side light their cigars with hundred dollar bills, people on the east side light them with gilded invitations to “Eyes Wide Shut”-style Illuminati parties where old men in smoky rooms reminisce about blackmailing Stanley Kubrick into faking the moon landing. While most of us look at Georgetown and see one big undifferentiated mass of the kind of people who come up to you in Whole Foods and say, “you work here, right?” (nah, I’m just shoplifting), there’s actually a healthy east side vs. west side rivalry here. The eastsiders say that their side has bigger houses (sort of but not entirely true), and that the west side is ruined by college students (admittedly, the most annoying demographic on earth, bar none), while the westsiders say that they have better celebrities (basically newspaper people edging out stuffy politicians), and that the east is marred by its proximity to Dupont, which is hopelessly plebeian because it like has a Chipotle I guess? We could debate this for hours, but let’s keep in mind the bottom line here: I can’t even afford to park in Georgetown ($35 for 4 hours?!) much less live there, so it doesn’t really matter.
Maybe you can afford it, though! If so, it would be hard to do much better than this house. This is the ur-Rowhome that all other District rowhomes tried to rip off. Compared to this house, the average Shaw rowhome is like a pair of knockoff Jordans with “Nikey” stitched on the back. Not only is it wider, roomier, and higher-ceilinged than the usual rowhomes, it has much cleaner lines; from the foyer you can see all the way through to the rear of the house. The living room is huge, with a jet-back fireplace for your sacrifices to the Dark One. The dining room doubles as a library, with tons of built-ins looming over you as you eat, which I think is a great juxtaposition of the cerebral and the animal. “Should I take down that volume of ‘Hamlet’ and enrich my mind, or eat another slice of cheesecake? Cheesecake, I think.” It also continues the jet-black color motif, which is a nice change from the usual all-white interior that seems to be designed to give you anxiety attacks about smudged fingerprints.
The kitchen is massive, with marble counters and top of the line stainless steel appliances. There are also french doors and a wall of windows, so you’ll get plenty of natural light streaming in to show your lumpy, asymmetrical cooking in excruciatingly unappetizing detail. (“Am I supposed to eat this, or …?”) Upstairs, the master bedroom is sprawling and bright, and has a lounge/sitting/office area where you can sit in complete darkness in the middle of the night, staring at the sleeping form of your significant other, and thinking about what to do about the texts you found in their phone. (Nothing, considering what you did at that conference in Seattle last year.) The master bath sports a huge soaking tub, twin basins, and lots of windows. Downstairs, the lower level is the nicest in-law suite I think I’ve ever seen, with two fireplaces, lots of light (for a basement), and a completely separate entrance. “With an awesome suite like this, all to yourselves, there’s no reason for you guys to ever come upstairs at all, ever,” you’ll fake-casually say to your visiting in-laws after you’ve brought their luggage in from the cab. “No, seriously, though. Text if you need anything, but don’t come upstairs.” And finally, out back is a fine, fenced-in back patio, paved with bricks. Maybe it’s a bit sterile, but I think grass yards are way overrated. The thought of neighbors bugging me about mowing my inevitably overgrown lawn is 95% of the reason I don’t own. (It’s also 100% of the reason I’m a terrible tenant. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
3107 N Street NW
4 Bedrooms, 4.5 Baths