Monday, August 31, 2009

Nate's Motel

Being a procrostinator in general (and a terrible Netflix subscriber specifically), it should come as no surprise that I am just now watching Gossip Girl for the first time.

First season, first impressions: Why does the Palace look a Trading Spaces blooper reel?  Faux-finished walls and Z Gallerie bleh-cessories do not a penthouse suite make, and no trust-fund baby/babymama worth their (insert white powdery substance of choice) would live there full-time.  (I, however, if asked, would be there in roughly two seconds, Mervyns-brand duffel in hand and an obsequious smile that says "I will totally clean my own room, guys.")

I'm almost onto Season Two, and hopefully hit-show status gives the digs a much-needed upgrade. Until then, here's a list of some hotels worthy of full-time residence (and maybe a Blair-Nate-Serena throwdown/threeway?)...

If Nate Archibald decided to embrace his WASPy roots and don kilt and tartans, two things would likely happen:  I would achieve levels of happiness hitherto unreachable without the aid of pharmaceuticals, and Boy Bangs would probably book a room at the Hotel Missoni (above) in Edinburgh.  I will forever associate the city with the grody pub WC in Trainspotting, but clearly the town has sobered up and glammed out. 

Leave it to the venerable Italian fashion house to build an entire hotel around a line of $250 bathrobes.  Outposts in Kuwait, Cape Town and Oman are forthcoming, as are (I'm sure) scores of rap video location scouts.  And in a surprise twist worthy of GG, rooms start at around US$250. 

Check the website for more (unpaste-able) photos, and a soundtrack that includes either Jill Scott or Prince. Honestly, sometimes I can't tell the difference.

Attention Rufus Humphrey:  The Ace Hotel (above) just opened a new location in Manhattan, and Seattle-based hotelier Alex Calderwood (think Andre Balasz in Rouges Gallery and galoshes) has brought that old PacNoWe feelin' to Midtown with particular aplomb. The rooms are succinctly furnished but never short on humor and rockstar cheek.  Even the brown-papered front windows (not all the retail/restaurant spaces have opened for biz) have a lo-fi charm. 

Although the turntables in the rooms might be two (or eleven) steps beyond, my inner Fleet Fox is definitely nodding along with the rest.

For those of you attending prep school on partial scholarship, check out the Jane Hotel (above) for cool-kid digs on the cheap.  Cons: shared baths mean trimming emo mullets and beard scruff in the company of strangers. Pros: you can roll over in bed and reach the closet. 

Finally, if it's honest-to-Ivana NYC hotel superchic you want, I don't think anything can ever top the Mandarin Oriental (below).  It's not cutting edge and it's not overly jaw-/panty-dropping.  But it exudes luxury from every limestone paver, without any pretense or irony.  A hipper hotel would let Chuck Bass trash his room.  The MO would never let him check in to begin with.

XOXO, Decomancer.


Julia said...

The bath in that last photo is unbelievable gorgeous.

Why do some people insist on labelling rooms? I know I'm in a hotel, I don't need big metal letters on the wall spelling out the obvious for me. I'm not that old yet.

Julia said...

Ah, I see, the letters are neon, how kitchy. Still don't care for it.