Hotel Crush: a vehement, furious, downright pathological appreciation for hotel design and culture
As we plummet into September with the verve of a CEO ("Get ahead of the trend before it gets ahead of you"), we give a parting nod to Summer 2011, a summer that wasn’t too hot or too cold, but just right:
The numbers:
and lots and lots of refreshing, tart, delicious lemonade…
Spa music can range from the perfect – soothing Massive Attack ambient at Le Posh Salon, to the tolerable – light jazz covers at Bliss Hollywood, to the absenting – classical piano at Ciel. But this is what we’d recommend:
In the way that muzak strives for the specific talent of non-polarizing mediocrity, every spa has the choice of making a statement with their music selection or making music as forgettable, disposable, and unconscious as breathing.
We love the latter. Make us forget how critical we are of slow folk covers of fast hit songs or pop so light it disperses before it reaches your ear. Melt each selection seamlessly into the next, without the jolt of “this is the sixth song, must be about halfway through.” Make us remember why we booked an hour, music or no music, with you.
We love Ciel with the torrid revelry of a summer soak on a remote beach. We love a day of pure floating – a relaxation massage, a drench in rooftop sunshine (and SPF100), and a dripping, thoroughly indulgent steam. And like a good plot, the ambience follows suit. Adorned in opulent lighting, beveled mirrors, and polished lacquer, white has never felt so refreshing.
Design: Simple, but not too simple. The stark, glowing white is pacified by textures – the gloss of the mirrors and softness of the faux fur blankets on the tufted couches and leather setees in the waiting room.
Atmosphere: The atmosphere is sparse and minimal, as restrained as SLS can manage (which given the ornamentation of the lobby borders on moderation). Everything is lush and comforting – a shower that flushes you with six jets of water, a steam room opaque with soothing vapor, a drawer in our locker with a razor and lens cleaning wipe.
Waiting Room Amenities: We love the treats, meticulous spears of pineapple, watermelon, cantaloupe, and honeydew, or strawberry, blackberry, and raspberry. The chocolate is dark and salty or pale olive and green-tea flavored (our new fav). Melon juices or cucumber-mint water satiate thirst, books like SLS’s own or “Trench Coats” (a history) bridge the time before or after treatment.
Locker Room Amenities: Every supply in your morning arsenal is here, save makeup. The room is sparkling white and made for dawdling, with plenty of mirror real estate and at least four kinds of hair styling products.
World Class Hospitality: We were welcomed three times- with a watermelon juice shot upon arrival, a dark berry (pomegranate) sugared gelatin square in our locker, and a glass of rosé following treatment.
The Fitness Center and Entrance to Ciel:
The Hallway to the Locker Rooms and The Fully-Stocked Vanity:
The Locker Area:
Traveling can be a slow, planned out, highly organized affair. It might involve an itinerary – “3 days in Paris, 4 days in Italy, 3 days in London” and a roster of flights and transfers meticulously pre-planned.
Or, it can be an all-out runaround.
Our last trip to London went something like this. Hotly immersed in work and work travel, we had little time to devote to our ever-immediate vacation in Europe (which we hate in its catch-all reference but use for lack of another term except maybe, E.U.) There was a dust cloud over Western Europe and an imminent strike by British Airways which blossomed profoundly on our day of travel, negating a set of flights booked in and out of Berlin. Thus we were left with LAX <--> LHR roundtrips and one hotel booked for a night in Berlin but nothing for the remaining week and a half.
It may have been jetlag, or a British candy bar sugar high, or a cocoon of oppressive denial but we weren’t worrying the slightest. “Let’s just book and go.” So we set to the task of booking new Berlin flights, hopping into our hotel and asking ourselves “where next?” Fueled by regional air carriers, a bit of train travel, and the guidance of Tablet, we checked into Straf in Milan, Galeria Del Arte in Florence, and Hazlitt’s in London.
It was off-the-cuff, fast and rushed with no small amount of optimism, but it was our most successful “Europe” trip yet. So the next time your travel plans are thwarted by a dust cloud, a strike, a hurricane, or a petulantly low stamp of fog, we advise: Book and go.
We’ve said before that all you really need is a sturdy suitcase and some good lingerie. Leaning on this line of thinking is the fall collection from our friends at Agent Provocateur. With brilliant advertising spots and seduction for days, we turn your attention to Autumn-Winter 2011.