What it’s like to live in one of the Painted Ladies.
‘Every day is an adventure’ when home is a tourist attraction
San Francisco is rife with tourist attractions, and it’s filled with lovely homes. But in the Venn diagram between the two, the overlap is minuscule.
Nobody’s living in the south tower of the Golden Gate Bridge, secretly stowing away in a cable car or camping out at Alcatraz. Well, not that I know of anyway. (If I’m wrong, let me know! Now that would make a good column.)
No, residents of the city’s best-known tourist destinations remain few and far between. I got the chance to meet one of these rarities the other day when I visited the owner of one of the Painted Ladies, the gorgeous, colorful Victorian homes on Steiner Street bordering Alamo Square.
Catherine Horsfall, an 86-year-old retired teacher, used to live in a home in Upper Terrace, the tony neighborhood south of Buena Vista Park. She long had her sights set on owning a Victorian home — ideally one of the Painted Ladies — and would leave letters declaring her desire in the mailboxes of the homes’ owners.
She bid on a Painted Lady once many years ago and lost out. But in 2001, the real estate gods smiled down on her, and she purchased her very own tourist attraction.
“If I ever want to go around the world, I have my son wheel me over to the park and I meet people from all over,” Horsfall said with a beaming smile. “Uganda, France, Italy.”
The famous homes date to the 1890s and survived the 1906 earthquake and fire, but only scored their memorable monikers in 1978 when writers Eliza-
beth Pomada and Michael Larsen penned “Painted Ladies — San Francisco’s Resplendent Victorians.”
And resplendent they are. Horsfall sat in her living room beneath a towering Christmas tree during our visit. A coffee table was piled with postcards, books and puzzles with her home on the front. An entire binder was filled with memorabilia featuring her home including Ferrari ads, newspaper clippings about movies filmed there and a picture of the famous San Francisco skyline hat from “Beach Blanket Babylon.”
“We’re on the hat!” said Horsfall’s son, George Horsfall, 62, who lives on Lombard Street near that other famous tourist attraction, but spends many nights at his mother’s home.
The three-story home (plus basement) is filled with stained glass, lace curtains, fancy chandeliers and antique furniture. My favorite part, strangely, was the ceilings. They were hand silk-screened in stunning colors and designs — including the lavender one in the living room bedecked with silver stars.
Yes, this Painted Lady drips with charm. But is it worth the tourist hordes outside? No question, the Horsfalls agree.
“Every day, I hear, ‘Nobody lives in those houses — they’re just for movies,’ ” said George Horsfall of the chatter outside. “Or people say it must be terrible, it must be a goldfish bowl. But we never feel that way. Never.”
Odd incidents that might bother most people don’t faze the Horsfalls at all. Like little kids sent to ring the doorbell by nosy parents. Or the time they opened the front door to find a man standing on his head, posing for a goofy picture.
Or the occasional shouts from outside of “Hey, Stephanie!” after the mistaken belief the show “Full House” — which featured the Tanner family including sisters D.J., Stephanie and Michelle — was set inside. The real “Full House” house is on Broderick Street. One dad even asked Catherine Horsfall to pretend she was Michelle Tanner’s grandmother for the sake of his little girl, and she willingly complied.
“We’ve seen some funny things. Like a lot of brides and grooms come and take pictures here,” Catherine Horsfall said. “I invite them in sometimes.”
One couple scored the ultimate wedding photo when Horsfall allowed them to stand in adjoining bedrooms upstairs and hold hands out the windows.
The Horsfalls said they never worry about their security in a house that so many people are curious about.
“It’s the best free security system on the planet,” George Horsfall said. “They’d be photographed 50 times breaking in the window.”
Catherine Horsfall has other measures of security, too. In addition to regular visits from her son, she has a nurse who comes every day. And she rented out a room upstairs to a 23-year-old San Francisco State University student who helps her care for her three golden retrievers and reads her poetry every night.
Catherine Horsfall said it’s been a pleasant surprise that she never feels like she’s being stared at — she knows the tourists are out there, but she has enough privacy, too.
“It’s fun!” she said of life inside a Painted Lady. “Every day is an adventure.” Flowers for the grooms: February will mark the 15th anniversary of then-Mayor Gavin Newsom’s decision to allow thousands of same-sex weddings at City Hall despite them being illegal at the time.
One of the sweetest aspects of that story was the bouquets ordered by people all over the United States with directions to deliver them to any couple standing in line. They came with notes like, “To a loving couple, have a happy life,” and, “Nice day for a white wedding.”
The grassroots movement called “Flowers from the Heartland” started with an email that went viral. It was written by Greg Scanlan of Minneapolis who saw photos of the weddings on sfgate.com and came up with the idea.
Well, I heard from Scanlan’s soon-to-be-husband the other day. Yes, now that same-sex marriage is sanctioned nationwide, the creative man behind the wedding bouquets is getting hitched himself.
He and Brad Althoff met two-stepping in a local LGBT country dance group. “He asked me to dance and that was it,” said Althoff, a public radio producer.
Scanlan is a public defender, described by Althoff as “still trying to change the world.”
The men will have a wedding with 35 people, including Althoff ’s ex-wife serving as the maid of honor and their daughter as the flower girl. This is Scanlan’s first marriage. Ironically, they hadn’t planned for any wedding flowers when I talked to Althoff.
“Other than a boutonniere for each of us, no,” he said.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Their wedding is set for 4 p.m. Jan. 4 at the Landmark Center, the Butler Room, 75 Fifth St. West, St. Paul, Minn. Surely there are florists there who’d be happy to make some deliveries.
And with that, dear readers, I’m out for the holidays. Thanks for making 2018 so memorable. Let’s do it again next year.
“People be terrible, say it it must must be a goldfish bowl. But we never feel that way. Never.” George Horsfall