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( February 6th, 2010 )
Lafayette House
I’m not sure what it is that makes a great hotel. I’m often put off by the insincerity of the archetypal design hotel, all stamped out of the same late 20th century design mold, and have instead been looking for something that is more escapist, more withdrawn. I seek individuality, effort and discretion. Hoteliers Eric Goode and Sean MacPherson provide all three in their most recent project, the Lafayette House. The antithesis of the modern boutique hotel, it is maximal design, classical fixtures, and a certain familiarity that harkens back to your grandmother’s house with the living room that you weren’t allowed to sit in. But there is something different here, and it is that same intangible quality that exists in all the projects Eric and Sean complete (the Bowery Hotel, the Maritime Hotel, the Jane, part of the Waverly), a sense of aloof comfort and inclusivity, without a hint of pretension. The fact that downtown art hero Dash Snow could, very sadly, overdose there, while two doors over, Margiela-clad heirs could set up a satellite home base during society season is perfectly thinkable. In fact, storied Saville Row tailor Norton and Sons decamps three times a year from London to take the measurements of New York’s more particular gentlemen in the top floor suite. It is this mix of clientele, this authenticity of experience, and most importantly, this assuring comfort, that makes the Lafayette House the most intriguing hotel in Manhattan, a discreet place to escape to and regain one’s bearings.
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( November 27th, 2009 )
Hôtel Amour
The Hotel Amour is located in a small street between metro St Georges and metro Pigalle - although I prefer la station St Georges, with its discrete petite place, the statue of Gavarni, and the beautiful buildings around. It’s on my favourite metro line, Mairie d’Issy - Porte de la Chapelle, that crosses Paris from south to north, going through Montparnasse, St Germain, Pigalle, Barbès and Montmartre, and back again. The Hotel Amour is adjacent to the Honda motorbike dealer. My friend the photographer Henry Roy brought me there once for lunch a couple of years ago. On my list ever since. Used to be a brothel and has since been reconverted into an affordable boutique hotel by the artist André Saraiva of Le Baron fame. You can still rent for half-day though. I like the bistro ambiance at the Amour, good food, good crowd, good mix of ‘gens du quartier’, guests, and the fashion set. The bay window opens to a back garden. Rocks, pond and red fishes. The smoke lingers and dogs rest under the tables. Glossy black walls in the corridors, glossy red lacquer in some rooms, naked light bulbs, SAS novel collections, old bathtubs, Playboy magazines, robots, whimsical flea market decorations and comfortable beds. No phones or TVs in the rooms, who cares, there’s wireless downstairs. We played foosball in the basement and wrote our names on the toilet walls.
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( November 17th, 2009 )
Verana
No road. A thirty minute boat ride takes you from Boca de Tomatlan to the bottom of a hill near the small village of Yelapa. You then walk up the meandering path while the mules carry your luggage. Mules never fall. All day long they quietly negotiate the path’s thousand steps. Stone after stone, they helped build a Verana that wouldn’t exist without them. Scattered in the jungle on top of the mountain, eight hand-made bungalows. No names, no arrows. Purely organic, incredibly beautiful. Watsu pool, papaya and avocado facials, banana wash and carefully hand-picked objects. The pool is the colour of stone, constantly refilled by the source coming from the mountain. There is a coati hiding in the bushes. At night, candles light the tables overlooking the bay. Only a few candles. Verana is real.
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