As I’m writing this, the air quality in West Hollywood is rated Unhealthy. I can’t go outside without a mask (two masks, really — one for the air and the other for the virus). Our photogenic blue skies are gone. A plume of wildfire smoke many miles thick stretches the length of the West Coast. To say Selling Sunset is partly to blame for these conditions would vastly overstate its influence. The elements of this climate crisis have been in place in California for a long time.
“For thousands of years, Native people used fire to manage the lands. But when the Europeans came, the park-like countryside that they saw they thought was natural.”
-Margo Robbins of the Indigenous People’s Burn Network
Wildfires helped create the vision of California that inspired so many to settle here. Spanish colonizers and later American settlers were unnerved by the prevalence of wildfires, threatening to shoot or jail any native people who tried to set controlled burns. In 1850, the US government passed the Act for the Government and Protection of Indians, which outlawed intentional burning in California even before it was a state. Fires contained and native stewards packed away, American settlers could proceed with their Westward expansion.
The Oppenheim Group is also expanding. Because their pay is 100% commission, the agents have to hustle. Mary, as the Oppenheim Group’s oldest employee, has fully internalized this mindset: “I bust my ass. I’m always on call. Jason[…] says he does about 20% growth. I’m like, Cool! I’ll do about 40% growth every year.” Growth is good for the real estate business, and good for TV.
Chrishell is praised for expanding Oppenheim operations into the San Fernando Valley, where “it’s a little hotter[…] but you get a lot more for your money.” Davina takes on an exorbitantly priced listing in hopes of eventually opening her own brokerage. Maya studies up on the development side of the business so she too can “have a piece of the pie.” Jason advises her on house-flipping and explains how he added value to a property by changing the street name from Pinto Place to Hummingbird Place. “What’s a pinto anyway? That’s a bean!” Jason scoffs.
The Oppenheim Group profits from these elisions — erasing predictable natural disasters and the people who lived in the hills before to entice those without a stake in the place. This business of speculation cannot increase forever. Our future on this planet depends on whether or not we learn that year over year growth is no longer possible, at least, not without massive environmental costs. Selling Sunset sells the lie of California as an endlessly accommodating landscape, and that lie is now not only damaging — it’s deadly.
Consider the property that forms a major through line across all three seasons: the $40 million Hillside residence, with its 150-foot long pool, 15 car garage, two saunas, movie theater, and 360 degree views at the maximum allowable square footage. One potential buyer says he “wants a Hollywood lifestyle…something no one else has.”
What makes Hillside one-of-a-kind is the fact that it was built in violation of a 2018 city ordinance tying square footage to acreage for new construction. Jason boasts, “This is the last home of this size allowed to be built in the Hollywood Hills. The city shut it down. So, this is it!” The property’s developer also shells out $400,000 to drop four power lines that obstruct his precious view, never mind that this leaves the house with no defensible space, and that overburdened power lines are one of the main causes of wildfire in California.
Read More: Selling Sunset and the Marketing of California | by Madeline Gobbo | Sep, 2020