In March 2019, Marc Jacobs bought a palatial Frank Lloyd Wright house in a swanky coastal community jutting off Rye, in New York’s Westchester County. One month later, fashion’s favorite rebel married his former-model boyfriend Charly Defrancesco in the home, surrounded by an audience of 40 cultural elites. Jacobs sold his West Village townhome and started auctioning off his art collection shortly after. Headlines documented his every move. Now that the couple has finally finished restoring Wright’s Max Hoffman House, Jacobs has penned an essay reflecting on the journey.

Char DeFrancesco and Marc Jacobs arrive at the 2024 “WSJ Innovators Awards” on October 29, 2024 in New York City. Photo by XNY/Star Max/GC Images.

The designer’s essay appears in the December issue of U.S. Vogue, which Jacobs oversaw—making him the publication’s first-ever guest editor. In a video around the making of the issue, Jacobs reminds editor in chief Anna Wintour that he did not want to feature the house—she pressured him. Rather than going full MTV’s Cribs, though, Jacobs commissioned one single portrait, by Gagosian-repped Gregory Crewdson, to accompany his writing. The cinematic suburban photographer captured Jacobs seated the home’s sumptuous living room while his husband stands dramatically in the mist outside, looking out over the Long Island Sound. Both men wear bathrobes.

The Max Hoffman House takes its name from the automobile importer Wright built it for. Hoffman was the son of a Viennese Rolls Royce dealer. He fled Austria for America during WWII, and helped make the country’s foreign car market mainstream. Hoffman’s classic Usonian home, built in 1955, was Wright’s second project for the dealer, who had commissioned a Jaguar showroom in Manhattan from Wright the year prior. In the end, he ended up selling Mercedes-Benzes in the futuristic space. Alas, that bit of Midtown history got demolished in 2013.

Philanthropists Alice and Thomas Tisch owned the Max Hoffman house after art patron Emily Fisher Landau. The couple sold it to Jacobs through a realtor of “unlisted, unique properties,” Jacobs wrote, who pre-screens and contacts prospective buyers, rather than receiving them.

“As I approached the house, my dearest friend Nick cautioned from the passenger seat to keep any enthusiasm to myself,” Jacobs wrote. “‘Don’t let the seller’s agent see too much excitement, he advised. I nodded, promising to keep a lid on my emotions—something I’m rarely capable of doing. That promise crumbled the moment I pulled into the driveway.”

The home’s obsessive attention to detail immediately earned his adoration. Jacobs loved the “sprawling single-floor layout,” the “massive eaves hanging far over its stone walls,” and the way those eaves’ square cut-outs simultaneous offer sky-ward views, and throw interesting shadows. He loved the combination of stone, copper, mahogany, and glass inside, and the way Wright could make a space breath. He especially loved the windows, and the view.

But, Jacobs did not love the leaky roof and old appliances, which hadn’t been updated since 1995. The couple stripped the house’s interiors down to the studs and commenced a renovation in partnership with the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy—camping out in the stripped back house at first, before setting up base camp at a temporary residence ten minutes away. Now, the Max Hoffman House has a new slate roof, per Wright’s specs, alongside two functional kitchens, contemporary amenities like iPhone-controlled lights, and an expansive basement. As Jacob’s essay noted, the architect famously despised lower levels, but agreed to create one for Hoffman, a hobbyist. Jacobs’s basement offers an infrared sauna, gift wrapping station, and nail salon, for starters.

In his essay, Jacobs considers his new home his baby. Thus begins an unprecedented chapter of domestic bliss for this rambunctious personality. Fortunately, based on the gorgeous pool just outside, it’s safe to expect a few raucous parties, too.