REAL ESTATE

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Rentals have long been a backbone of the Hamptons real estate market. Not subject to market tops or bottoms or flailing or feasting economies, they could be counted on to deliver. And as a good fallback position if sales were slipping, one could always rent out the family homestead.

In past years, it was common practice for homeowners in prime estate areas or oceanfront settings to rent their homes for part or all of the summer. Usually, there was definite financial need to do so. That $100,000 rental income, the tariff then, came in handy, whether for wondrous luxuries, swell trips or simply to scare up funds for club dues, taxes or both.

And there were always a few houses on the ocean in prime locations. On Further Lane, for example, the former Tyson compound on 24 oceanfront acres was like a rendezvous of colonial residences behind stone walls snug by the sea. That idyll has long been divvied up to the likes of Donny Deutsch, Helmut Lang and others, but it left a big hole in the cornucopia of rental choices.

Another sought after rental was the old deMenil estate (now reinterpreted by Ron Barron). On over 50 oceanfront acres, it attracted a certain type of renter who liked its old-money Bohemian panache, from the sheep sculptures in the living room to the man-made lake used for swimming. Like a rite of passage, almost every craning arriviste leased there. One tenant hired the Philharmonic to perform on the vast lawn for a private party; other seasonal inhabitants—from entrepreneurs to striving society matrons—used it equally well.

Another sought-after house for rent was Liz Fondaras's spread (now owned by financier Chris Brown) on 18 splendid oceanfront acres. Basically a ranch house, with pokey rooms and furnishings covered in faded chintz, it was nevertheless a sublime spot: the oceanfront terrace with the pool nestled in the dunes was quite a scene to behold.

From Gin to Lily Pond to Further lanes, the great Hampton houses that used to be available as rentals are gone—sold, essentially down the drain, and reconstituted by our reigning billionaires blithely shuttered behind locked gates.