Doc - The first name that came to mind is "Hellofaview".

Interesting thread! I’ve been thinking about it here and there since you posted it. Hubby and I have owned 3 houses together in our 27 years of marriage. Our first two homes were new builds and we were the first occupants... I never had trouble adjusting to either of those homes even though each home was in a totally different part of the country than either of us had ever lived before. I think that maybe there was something about putting our own stamp on each home and not having to deal with anyone else’s contributions to the house that just made it easy for me to ease right in. They always felt like home immediately. Our first home we lived in for 6 years, and all 5 of our children were born while we lived there. (We had 5 in 4.5 years, lol, yes, there’s a set of twins) So that house was like the beginning of our family. It was also the beginning of our venture into DIY projects... we were young and that’s where we learned to paint walls (because while we had lived in several apartments before buying our first home, we never ventured to paint walls in those, and we were poor college students and didn’t have time or money to do very much at all. LOL!) After we learned to paint, we tackled other things like building bookshelves as the kids started coming along, to quickly realizing that we needed to replace flooring, and my hubby learned to tile floors and lay laminate and he even changed the baseboards and trim moulding and built a nice pergola and I learned to start flower gardens. We left that home better than we got it and it became our mission to do that everywhere we could if possible! But we never thought to name the home. (We did leave evidence of our family on the concrete floor under the laminate... we assume someone eventually had a good chuckle to see the “chalk outlines” of the bodies of our entire family when they eventually changed out the laminate flooring in the front room, LOL!) When we moved to our 2nd home, our children were all still under the age of 5 and we stayed there for almost a decade. This is the home our children consider their childhood home, only our oldest has vague memories of our first home, but they all have so many fond memories of our second home. In that home we first started homeschooling, and we developed our own unique family culture in that home! Our gardening and landscaping skills got much better in that home, and our home improvement diy skills also got better. Every project we took on was more complex than what we’d done in our first home. We learned to be our own general contractors and we got an inground pool and hot tub put into our backyard. We created an oasis in that yard, and again, we left it better than what we got it. Our first neighborhood was a nice neighborhood, but it was a grouping of nearly identical houses plunked into a grid in the middle of the desert... community wise, we made some of our best lifelong friends there! Our second neighborhood was nicer than the first, the houses varied a little more, but it was still small yards that weren’t so easy to really make look unique from the next. Our current, and third home is in a REALLY nice neighborhood... we’ve been blessed to always turn a nice profit on our houses so far. Every home in this neighborhood is custom, so you don’t see repeats of tract homes. Most owners here have pleasant landscaping, and many have stunning landscaping. Driving into the neighborhood and surrounding areas gives us a distinct relaxing feeling, it’s just beautiful and there is a lot of natural beauty in this area. When we moved here, we didn’t exactly name our house, but we did start calling it the ____ ____ house. (It’s our street name, and it’s a unique name that I don’t want to share publicly because I think it might be the only one in the states and I don’t want to give out my exact location, LOL! After we left our other two homes we referred to them as our ‘insert state name here’ home.) It was just kind of instinctive that we called it by our street name as we were adjusting to living here. This move here was very different for us, and we actually had much difficulty adjusting. We’ve been here over 8 years now, and yes, it’s to an area of the country we had never lived before... but we’d done that before plenty of times and it didn’t phase us. I think the big differences this time were 1) This time when we moved, we had young teens and pre-teens, and that’s a huge deal, and 2) This time we bought a house that wasn’t brand new. It wasn’t THAT old, but it was over 20 years old at the time and we were the 5th owners... so quite a few things had been done by other homeowners. One of my neighbors told me, after we’d been here a little while, “I’m so glad this house is finally getting loved!” That was a big shock to me! It’s a lovely house with great bones... but it certainly had some strange stuff done to it. We got it for a great deal, knowing we could use our DIY skills to make it look more cohesive. But she told me that they’d sort of known all of the other owners (actually, not a single one was very friendly to others on this culdesac) and she said that the home just never seemed loved. The ones who built it obviously built it to look impressive, but when our neighbors tried to befriend those people they were told “oh, we don’t socialize with our neighbors.” What the heck?!? And that each owner after that seemed like they were in way over their heads. (It’s a large house!) But it took me a good 2+ years to finally feel at home in this house! We’ve TOTALLY DIY gutted 2.5 of the 4.5 bathrooms in this home, and the two we haven’t gutted we’ve still made changes to. (We still have one left to gut) We’ve DIY gutted the kitchen. We’ve done MAJOR work on the landscaping, most of it DIY, but we had to hire out for the retaining wall for our driveway and the total rebuild of the driveway. There actually isn’t a single room in this 5,600 sq ft home that hasn’t been drastically changed. We’ve DIY replaced almost every single window in this house (wood casement is friendly for experienced DIYers) We’ve replaced about a third of the flooring. This house feels like a home, and we’ve poured our hearts into it and it’s much better than we got it. Our kids have finished growing up in this house... this has been their home during their teen and young adult years. This year has seen our oldest daughter get married just a couple of months ago, our oldest son leaves for college (5.5 hours away) in less than 2 weeks, our 2nd daughter is getting married in a little over 5 weeks! Our twin boys just turned 18 earlier this years, so no more minors in this family... but they still have another year of homeschooling left before they get to graduate. :) We are quickly approaching an empty nest! (That’s what you get when they come boom, boom, boom! LOL!) Last year we purchased a plot of land in the PNW. It has no home on it. It’s in a little coastal town where my hubby’s family used to vacation EVERY summer. We’ve taken our family there some as well, and it holds many happy memories for us. It’s where my hubby has always wanted to retire, and last year we found a deal we couldn’t pass up. It’s the kind of place that calls to you! To build a home there, we will need an architect. It’s on a very steep slope, you can’t just plop a house there, it has to adapt to the land. We’ve discussed thinking of a name for our future home there. Hubby’s uncle built his dream home in a similar kind of place, and he named it Splendid View; we have good memories of visiting there too. It FEELS like we should name our next house if and when we can work it out so that we can finally move there. We plan for it to be our last house. Hubby is trying to work it out with his company to work remotely permanently... if that happens soon then we will start the process to move there. It’s exciting!

... and I apologize for typing a novel. ^ I enjoyed reminiscing, even if nobody has the patience to read it. :)

One of my favorite movies was “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir”, a 1947 old black and white movie. Every chance I get I will sit down and watch it. The house in the movie was called “Gull Cottage”. When my husband and I retired we bought waterfront property and built our home. Took us 3 years to do it working 7 days a week no vacations. While we were building we decided to let someone else know what was involved. We wrote on the studs with black markers about a problem we were having and how we came up with a solution. If there was a heavy snowstorm or a windstorm that day we would document it. We included a silver spoon in a plastic bag with a note inside explaining that this was suppose to bring the house good luck. We attached it to a stud before insulating and sheet rocking. In every room we put a few folded up dollar bills under the wood floors. Hopefully after we are long gone someone will get a kick about all the hidden messages. After three long years we decided to name our little house “Gull Cottage”. I think back on all those seagulls who perched on our roof and thought we were crazy.

skmom....I read every word of your post I thoroughly enjoyed it. I can relate to it. I hope your forever home becomes a reality for you soon. Make it for you and make it everything you want it to be.

When we built our current home but before we moved in, we had three separate people tell us that they liked the “feel” of the place. It had been specifically designed for the lot and that may have been what these people were reacting to. It isn’t any one thing that you can put your finger on, just a general perception of “rightness”. Is that what you are referring to, Holly?

I think giving houses names is a cultural habit - I grew up in the UK where naming houses is much more common. One wouldn’t name a terraced house in a city or large town but a lot of village or country houses go by names rather than street addresses. There continue to be houses that do not have a designated street number but have a name as part of their official address. Still, it’s easier to find “Rose Cottage” in a village; next to impossible in a larger town.

I have often thought of naming our house but haven’t yet come up with anything suitable. I have been threatening my DH that I’m going to call it “30 Rock” since multiple rocks are what I get out of every hole I dig in the garden.

Doc, what a beautiful property! These are the names came to my mind: Wind Song, Dream Land, Ruckus Valley, Big Ruckus, Green Acres, Land of Thunder, Star Field, Sleepy Loops..........

Hubby & I have lived together in 4 different residences. The first was a rental condo, the second a rental house; we didn't name either of these. The first house we bought, we named the Harmonium; it was a 1992 brick home in Houston, Texas, and quite beautiful till it flooded (twice within 18 months, leading us to seek a place where we could enjoy a good thunderstorm without fear of being inundated). We now live in Lawrenceville, Georgia, in a slightly smaller but more charming 1985 home that we have dubbed the Nuthatch Nest (a double entendre, as we are birders and a little nutty). True to its name, it affords us with excellent birding, and we have had three types of nuthatches visit our feeders.

The acreage area, where we built, is called
"The Legends" , when someone asks where we live sometime I say, the legends, but most of the time I refer to it as, The Ridge on Seymour (road) & people know where it is.. After owning the property for 11 years now, but only have been here fulltime since August 2017, we are still considered "Newbies" ..

Lots of shale excavated for the basement!

Shale. Use that in your name somewhere. :-)

Or a by-product of it, like Clay (especially if your shale was red/reddish brown). Oh, speaking of which, what color was your shale? Might be able to use that in the name, too.

Good ideas here! I can’t believe we hadn’t though of shale as inspiration! It’s almost all red shale.

heres an elevation view

DH called the two of the places we own as Country House and Farm House at first, then he kept mixing up those two himself, so I named one as Maple House to separate them. Lol

We call our rental house “the blue house.” There were many other choices, but this was the nicest we could come up with. Many were not appropriate for our children to hear! 🤣😬

I named my small sweet house "The thisledew" for it will do for now and hopefully far into the future.

I'm delighted with all the names other folks have for their homes.

And The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is a favorite of mine, too.

Doc, looks like you've got a Red Shale Ridge or something similar on your hands. ;-)

Elaine, I love Nuthatch Nest. I do like watching the birds, myself. I spotted an Indigo Bunting while out walking the dogs last week but he was just a bit too far away for me to get a picture.

I'm going to sit here, listening to "Mockingbird Hill" and read some more.

[...] I would suggest that the homogenization of home design that has [...] ruin[ed] the genius loci until one place becomes nearly indistinguishable from another [....]

I've been thinking a bit on this. It's nothing earth-shattering, just a few raindrops of thought.

Perhaps this homogenization is a larger piece of the puzzle than most folks realize.

I grew up, mostly, in Base housing. Not exactly architectural marvels. My favorite house was my grandfather's house in Latin America, because it had *flavor*. Everything about it -- the porch, the chairs, the table, the rugs, the native flowers, the birds, the sugar cane that grew on the property -- was so appropriate. It was grounding. I knew I wasn't in the USA, but it was familiar and warm and welcoming.

Upon moving to the US permanently, everything was so similar to everything else. Not just the houses (which all looked basically the same in their own clusters, from the post-WW2 painted concrete block tract home neighborhood that my mom grew up in, to the new stucco tract homes all over the suburbs of Phoenix), but the commercial districts full of the same-ol'-same-ol' chain restaurants, pharmacies, and shopping malls.

There's no sense of individuality, of place. It's just, "I'm in the US. But I could be *anywhere* in the [mainland] US...." The country is so big, that "anywhere" is an awfully big place to be swallowed up in.

Before the advent of air conditioning, houses had individuality, based on geographical and climatic differences. Air conditioning changed all that.

Builder's annual conventions helped. The idea is to sell houses. So no house is too very different from other houses which sell. Too big a risk to be different or individual.

Sorta like the similar reasoning that often makes multiple car dealers locate in the same place. Reduce the risk and hassle.

Perhaps this homogenization is a larger piece of the puzzle than most folks realize.

My kids and I just finished reading "The Giver" by Lois Lowry together and then watched the movie (of course, the book is better!) but I think you're right about homogenization. We are seeing it everywhere and we are certainly drifting toward the type of culture that manifested in the book.

There's no sense of individuality, of place. It's just, "I'm in the US. But I could be anywhere in the [mainland] US...." The country is so big, that "anywhere" is an awfully big place to be swallowed up in.

This comment is so powerful as many Americans priorities self over collective. So it’s interesting the comment of feeling a lack of individuality and yet the trend to crave it in other aspects of life.

This comment is so powerful as many Americans priorities self over collective.

Actions speak louder than words.

I like to believe that Americans prioritize individuality over conformity, but as someone on the "fringe", that has not been my experience. Individuality is only acceptable if it falls within particular parameters.

It is not a house name, but I had a client make me change a room name on the construction drawings from "DEN" to "GIN & TONIC ROOM".

As someone looking in from the outside. One of the starkest differences, generally, between Americans and Canadians is the individuality vs collective. Not conformity as that has a different meaning. Collective good vs individual perception of rights is what I meant.

I believe in all of our communities there is unspoken conformity pressures.

My father would sometimes take us to visit his friend in Ft. Recovery, Ohio. At the end of the long country driveway was a stone reading "Villa Julia." Mother always referred to it as a gravestone.

As the village itself was named after the recovery of the bones of the nearly 1,000 fallen soldiers defeated by the Western Confederacy in the Northwest Indian War, in retrospect it seems fitting.

(Only surprised that the obelisk commemorating the loss and ultimate American victory hasn't yet been splashed in red paint and pulled down. Give it time.)

I need one of those room, Mark! Especially now that we're midway into a new house build....lol. I might have to turn my storm shelter in the basement into that room as it would get much more use and one can always use gin and tonic in the middle of a storm 😜

Not conformity as that has a different meaning. Collective good vs individual perception of rights is what I meant.

I chose poor wording, lol.

It is my opinion that if Americans truly valued individual rights over the collective, then most would be politically Libertarian. Since that's not the case, I believe that a lot of Americans like to *think* they value individual rights over the collective good (whatever that actually is defined as meaning; it will vary by individual or group), but they do, in fact, not.

We would see individuality reflected culturally in many ways, especially architecture, but because we don't, it's easy to conclude that it's not as prized as some/most claim that it is.

@One Devoted Dame I would hazard a guess that many people don't necessarily see architecture as an example of individuality. Likely funds come into play more than anything else. What would we all build if we could vs what can we live in and afford? Individuality comes out in so many other ways.

Back to home naming we had a cottage and it had a name. I've never named the home we live in, as stated above for me the home is who is in it not the house, but for some reason it seems easy to name secondary spaces. Se we had Keats Cottage and the Coast. :)

Mark Bischak, I think that your client missed a golden opportunity. While "Gin & Tonic Room" is better than just plain "Den", "Den of Iniquity" would've been awesome!

That makes that name still up for grabs.

I would hazard a guess that many people don't necessarily see architecture as an example of individuality. Likely funds come into play more than anything else.

I maintain that, whether folks acknowledge it or not, a region's architecture is a reflection of a society's collective values and priorities. Especially fiscal priorities of one of the world's wealthiest nations. :-)

I believe this is directly tied to the national housing homogenization we see. Which, of course, can affect a person's sense of place. Some folks seem to be more emotionally impacted than others, and/or are in a financial position where they can ponder these kinds of things because their basic survival needs are being met. But it's there, just the same.

I’ve always wanted to place Drumossie Place or Drumossie Lane as I like the sound of it. But I do wonder if it would be morbid, as Drumossie Moor is the site of the Battle of Culloden in 1746 where the Scots decisively lost to the British.

Marienell, this is paricularly amusing, given that Academia.edu served me up an article today entitled "The Legend of Brigadoon: Architecture, Identity, and Choice in the Scottish Highlands."

Ghislaine Maxwell's cutely named New Hampshire hideaway:

Her new home has a nickname too: "Brooklyn's Abu Ghraib"

I have a client that has in the front of his cottage a similar stone with the name of his cottage "Chateau Relaxeau".

A co-worker was telling me about a visit to her BiL in Lexington, KY. On one street was a house with a plaque, “The Pointe”. Next door the neighbor had a homemade sign, “Beside the Pointe”, and another with “What’s the Pointe?”.

Jrb451, that’s hilarious!

Mark, I knew a family named Mose whose summer cottage was named Mose Repose.

Late to the conversation, as usual : ) .

I lived in unnamed apartments before moving to our farm in western Canada to get married about 25 years ago; my last apartment building had a name, but no-one ever used it. My husband had bought the land and farm just before we met, so it needed a name; in great part because it's a huge help when you do farm gate sales of what you grow and raise (it's become even more helpful now in this time of social media for direct marketing). But my husband has a very strong twee detector and vetoed anything remotely cutesy, for example, Meadowlark Farm after all the meadowlarks here in the summer. Around here the funnier, cutesier names tend to be for "less serious" hobby farms and acreages. One popular suggestion from friends and family, since I moved here from NYC, was Green Acres.

Neighboring farms, many of them two or three or four generations old, range from no name to the very basic, based on what the farm grows (Canola Farm) or the family name (Family Name Farm). And then there are the husband-wife combo names, like Marvin and Wendy's Marwen Farm. Some of the purebred cattle farms use the brand and breed to come up with a farm name, like Lazy J Charolais. Or something like Jones Family Shorthorn.

It took us a few years to find the right name. We finally settled on naming our farm after the old local rural school district, which was named after a district in England where some emigrants in the area came from; we can see the old abandoned one-room schoolhouse, on its little hill, from our house. We like the connection to the neighborhood and its history, to the land. When we started home schooling almost 20 years ago, we needed a name for our school which was easy because we just used the name of the old one-room school. And with three kids in three different grades sitting around the kitchen table, it was definitely another one-room schoolhouse : ) .

But having a name and having a sign are two different things. We still don't have a sign, but we're working on that right now. It's only taken us 25+ years and two farm houses lol. We're actually working on a sign for the fence down by the road, and will have another one at the end of our drive. I'd like something metal for the one by the house, something like this,

I don't think I could ever be more attached to the unnamed NYC rent control prewar apartment where I grew up on the Upper West Side, and where my parents continued to live until they died more than 40 years later; the building is unnamed as well, but for me there is huge emotional attachment and spirit of place. For me it was about the people, not just our three-generation family in a tiny two-bedroom apartment, but our neighbors -- the ones we adored and the ones we didn't -- and the elevator men in the days before the elevators were automated, a particularly nasty landlord and rent strikes where neighbors made a schedule and took turns running the elevator (all of the kids thought this was great fun while our parents did not). On days like the Fourth of July, when I think of my life before moving to Canada, when I miss NYC and my family, what I think of is our daily life in our old apartment. All the more bittersweet because after cleared out the apartment, the building owner promptly -- as we expected -- did a fast, cheap, soulless remodel, removing all of the 1920s details including the picture rails and French glass doors in the living room, in order to sell the apartment. We knew that was coming, so while we were clearing things out, we took an afternoon and a trip to the hardware store to replace the original glass doorknobs on every door and closet, and the milk glass "schoolroom" shades in the kitchen, and took them home with us to Canada, because to me, those items embody the spirit of place of that beloved home. I also took the drawer of the built-in desk, made by my father in the early 1970s, that filled one entire wall of my sibling's and my bedroom, because my father had burned his initials and the year in the side of the drawer : ) .

And then there are the husband-wife combo names, like Marvin and Wendy's Marwen Farm. Some of the purebred cattle farms use the brand and breed to come up with a farm name [....]

I have extended family who combined these two approaches... The name was 2 parts, the first was a combination of his surname and her surname (it just so happened that the first 4 letters of his family name and the first 4 letters of her family name worked together), and the second part of the name was the cattle breed they raised. I thought it was a great solution.

I deleted a couple of sentences in my post above, talking about how I often still dream of my family's old NYC apartment (many of the dreams are of having left something special behind, sometimes in a closet, though I know we cleared everything out), often feeling almost haunted by the dreams. But it seemed silly so I took it out.

And now I'm reading the essay by Michael Bell that Holly recommended, and he is talking about ghosts of place -- "Ghosts are much of what make a space a place". He goes on to define this type of ghost as "a felt presence" that "possesses and gives a sense of social aliveness to a place", and they're a connection between past and future. Absolutely this.

In my mind and my heart, the ghost apartment is still there, lived in by my ghost family. And I've long been "haunted" by memories of so many old mom and pop shops and businesses on the Upper West Side that succumbed to gentrification and national chains -- the old "nut and fruit" shops, the little antique/vintage shops, book stores, movie theaters.

I'm still working through the essay, but thanks so much for mentioning and recommending it. It would be fascinating to know what each of my kids' "ghosts" are in 20-30 years.

My goodness, now I have to read the essay.

I’m wondering if some people are more sensitive to “ghost of place” than others?

My goodness, now I have to read the essay.

Yes! Scroll down here, you don't have to download anything,

https://www.academia.edu/3141122/The_Ghosts_of_Place_Michael_Mayerfeld_Bell

I’m wondering if some people are more sensitive to “ghost of place” than others?

I would think so, bpath. Which is a nice tie-in to the mention of the Ghost & Mrs. Muir above -- some people see ghosts where others don't.

I think it also bears noting that I know I'm particularly sentimental and nostalgic -- and the author of the essay does address this in a section called "Mixing Souls with Things".

I like this thread. My husband and I are just beginning the build process and I wanted to name the house, as we plan to keep it in the family when we pass on. We've said 'we're going to the property' for years now, and it needs a personality, because it is no longer just a random piece of land we own. It is our home. Our memories. Our blood sweat and tears. So we set about brain storming and the land itself gave us multiple options that sounded like mobile home parks, elder care homes, or just plain odd. In paying homage to my husband's family we chose something from Ireland. 'Tullamore' which is a city in the middle/south middle, meaning 'great mound / great hill' which is appropriate considering he currently rappels down it with a rope to get to the boat, while I walk to another dock. We are hoping the grandkids and our own kids begin using the name as a destination for good memories and relaxation and fun. Naming a house is a legacy to pass down to generations.... :) or maybe I just romanticize it because I read too many books. Naw, that can't be it.

We tried to name our farm with a mix of our names - Tansy and Patrick.

I’m still a fan of “Tantrick Farm” but my husband vetoed it. I gave up on anagrams after he came up with “Cis Tank Party” and “Sick Panty Art”.

Currently going with Candy Creek Farm (candy creek is what my mother in law named the tiny stream of spring over flow that runs from her property - Sweet Family Farm - onto ours.)

I gave up on anagrams after he came up with “Cis Tank Party” and “Sick Panty Art”.

Hahahahahahahahaha!!! I think our husbands would get along great. :-D

I did finally get around to stopping for a photo of one of the local places that has a name:

If you can't read it, it says Oakenwald in a gothic script.

It's nice that this topic has resonated with others.

@bpath. I definitely think some folks are more sensitive to ghosts of place than others. I also think we're the same folks who tend to imbue objects and places with "spirit" more often, although we often express it as "sentimental value." And I suspect we are the same subset that actually sees the value in architectural design that speaks to and attempts to work with or amplify the spirit of a specific place. It's hard to articulate WHY it bothers us when someone wants to "plop" (to use Mark's term) a random box on their lot, rather than work with the property. Especially if the piece of land is something other than a subdivision lot, or has some sort of meaning to the owner already.

This is my new goody. (Well, one of them. I'm like Erasmus - when I get a little money, I buy books. If there is any left over, I buy clothes and food).

A brief quote from the introduction:

"The power of place isn't necessarily life enhancing. It can be threatening or devastating, pulsing with negative or positive charges that may change a valence according to our personal points of view. Architects, city-planners, garden-designers, interior decorators, and before them priests, shamans, and geomancers have always known that our environment, external or internal, can be shaped to elicit certain feelings or moods, promote health or sicken us, or encourage certain behavior. They have also been aware that in modeling the landscape or constructing a building they must work with a creative force inherent in the land itself, known in the ancient classical world as the genius loci, usually translated as the "soul" or "spirit of place."

We are building a house in Vero Beach and there are so many palm trees we have decided to call our home The Palm Tree Palace 🌴

Beyond the genius loci, much like Winston Churchill's involvement in World War II, is the thrust of the human condition upon the landscape. There are times when it produces a scar, and times when it is a grace to the landscape instead of a disgrace. Some settle on plopping a preconceived design onto a site rather than letting the home's design emerging from the site and relating to the environment in which it sets.

Holly, I like introduction you shared. I hadn't thought of genius loci in terms of non-residential space, but it's there. I have a few grocery stores that I cycle through, but my husband has two that he likes that I just can't go into. They're very different from one another, but there is something about the materials, layout, and lighting in them that I find very off-putting. And yet, one of them is very popular among my neighbors. The food is fine, I just can't shop there.

I have the same experience in a few shops, bpath. And the opposite, in a few others. One was an old grocery store that was, long ago, converted into a small store selling all the sundries needed for cake decorating. Far, far more than you'd find at JoAnn's or Michaels and more aimed at the professional. But it retained the creaky wooden floors and even the old metal-and-canvas shopping baskets from its previous life. Plus, I have all the memories of going there with Mom, and being granted a sucker from the owner if I had been very good and not tried to eat any of the little sugar decorations for sale. Sadly, it's now gone and the (sold to new owners) business has moved to a local mall. The magic is gone.

Still, you might get a kick out of this little video. (One of my other lives involves historic costuming. If you don't know what the House of Worth was, go look that up, and then give this a watch)

Holly, how fun! You just might need a “virtual address” in Paris ;)

I can imagine her sensation, walking into a fabled building, when she’d never been there during its heyday, and here it is all modern. Kind of like the Welsh hiraeth, a longing for something that maybe never really was. Here, it was, but not in her experience.

Thank you for sharing that.