A thousand people raged until 4 a. Frizzy-haired and springy-stepped, in head-to-toe designer leather β or, when at home, brightly contrasting tennis gear β Goldstein is the poster octogenarian of a certain kind of man, one whom some find admirable and others repellent. Case in point, he spends most nights courtside at the Staples Center in his trademark peacocking attire, often with a date young enough to be his granddaughter.
There are, as ever, contractors to hound and blueprints to review, especially as he seeks to finally complete an adjacent Lautner-esque entertaining complex he began about 15 years ago. To do so, Goldstein knocked down an actual Lautner that stood on the lot. Preservationists blanched. Goldstein says the architect, who died in , gave him his blessing.
Built in phases, the top floor of the complex features a tennis court with an infinity edge. Its first bash was a surprise birthday he hosted for Rihanna in On the ground floor is a soon-to-be-completed ultra-narrow lap pool. Meanwhile, the main house remains booked for shoots β mostly fashion and commercials β multiple days a week. The cost varies wildly depending on the production.
He recently allowed the venue to host its first wedding ceremony but decided never again. The house long has been typecast as a den of iniquity, a fantasy hideout for rappers like Snoop Dogg and G-Eazy in their music videos or pornographer Jackie Treehorn in The Big Lebowski.
Goldstein himself β who despite his flashy exterior possesses a restrained personality, speaking in a low-key drone β is comfortable with being perceived as a villain, whether as a go-his-own-way architectural preservationist, a hometown-hating basketball fan, a litigious businessman or an elderly libertine.
