The city so nice, they named it twice. The one that sets itself apart from any other –in the world. It’s the epicenter of countless industries and is without a doubt the best marketed place on earth.
Not many people around who are unfamiliar with the line ‘If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere’, Liza Minelli knew what she was talking about. As did Sinatra, Jay-Z & Alicia Keys, Billie Holiday, Lou Reed and hundreds of other musicians and artists, dedicating their musical notes and art to the city of dreams. A machine, that doesn’t have an off button.
In this very city, I spent three years. A lovely, inspirational, enervating, successful journey, but an easily lonely one… No matter how many souls move side by side in the Big Apple, it is a world where for most to each their own is a rule of thumb, not just an expression. Very rarely does anyone on the Upper East Side stick out a helping hand to a fellow megalopolitan, while downtown, urbanites unite by street performance and playing rare instruments in busy train stations.
The Capital of the world represents chasing your soul’s desires, going from rags to riches, performing on Broadway. Dancers running across town to audition for that one percent
chance to get onto the main stage, a change of clothes in their gym bag. At once, this illusion of a city is the epitome of the easiest place to feel or become ‘see-through’.
I am positively sure that large groups of people would read these words and go: “hm, yeah sure” and roll their eyes, while some will lift their face into a smirk and think “So true” and this is how it will always be with an opinion. I can solely speak for myself and have concluded New York only works for me when I am one of three things; hungry*, rich or in love. So whether you are the former or latter type of my readers, here’s my list of places where you can feel all three, on their own or at once, with or without a hand to hold…
** The urge for recognition of achievement.
#1. The Nomad
The secret to The Nomad’s success I cannot tell you, for it would no longer be a secret. However, I can tell you all the reasons why I love it there, which is not a few. I do not easily put a hotel on my personal number one. It takes quite a few things to satisfy me when it comes to luxury. Not because I’m a snob, rather the contrary, but I have quite the allergy for pseudo-luxury and there is a lot of that, especially in Gotham. Showing off with the wrong things, a vibe that doesn’t cut it, upping prices at every chance they get and for what, a cute bellboy and a pool? I’ll Pass… Ten laps, just because you can, are most certainly not superior to great staff, a amazing restaurant and bear claw bath tubs. Not in New York they aren’t…
The Nomad does it for me due to having all three of the above and more. Their ever changing menu at the restaurant is phenomenal. They serve some specialty dishes on collected antiques such as quail eggs on a copper coddler. This dish is to die for, trust me, as is the fruit de mer. The Sommelier pairs great wines with even greater courses, (dried flowers as a backdrop as you listen to him describe scents and flavors) and the deserts? Don’t even ask. I am rarely ever one to order three plates, but here I cannot walk away from doing so each and every time. As if my stomach isn’t full enough, I then always drink a night cap at the Library bar, which I am running out of words for. It is hotel guests and reservations only and a very special place for me, as I wrote my first film there. I could write a book about my encounters and inspiring thought patterns whilst there, sipping on hot toddies and cleaning out bottles of Barbera to the last drop. Their regular hotel bar is just as inviting, but gets packed real quick. A good place to wait for your guest(s) or if you’re early for your reservation. And then, drum roll… as if this place could get more awesome; they have magic shows on the weekends. I mean, come on. Who doesn’t like some good ol’ trickery?! All and all I can say that every time I visit New York, The Nomad is my home for at least one night and I will always return. It’s like I belong there. Like the Eagles state so well in Hotel California: You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave…
#2. The Redbury
What’s a New York anything, if not backed by a great story? I have lived-, worked-, stayed-, met-, dined-, or merely spent some time with my best friend Red Wine, at a large number of hotels. During my years as a professional hopscotch player, roaming the earth in pursuit of a next step in my career, I was a single lady (insert Beyonce choreography), traveling for work. The new Redbury, in the City of Dreams, sits within the walls of the historical Martha Washington Hotel, that opened it’s doors in 1903, catering exclusively to single professional women and continued to do so till 1998. How very fitting to be overnighting here on my latest venture to the concrete jungle? Thus, I did… Tah-daa! There it is; a love story between me and a significant landmark, located in the city that stole my heart and never gave it back.
It’s foyer that stretches all the way to the check in desk, lures you in, winking flirtatiously at you so to speak, with photos of bunnies boarding a plane, the smell of brick oven pizza released to your nostrils on your left, where Marta is located. This restaurant is about the only thing that remained and hey, I get it; why try to fix something that ain’t broke, correct? I seem to never make it passed the hostess stand without making a reservation cause it’s safe to say that the desire of eating in the outside world disappears when my belly starts to rumble from craving one of their grilled dishes or white pies.
The rooms are quiet, considering that this is not a retreat on the Californian coast line, but an establishment that rises from the streets of a beastly megalopolis. The hallways remind me of old Hollywood movies, where detectives ask the man in room 508 if he has seen anything suspicious.
The showers (depending on the room type you book) are large enough to practice your Michael Jackson moves. Not to mention their acoustic is good enough for Jessie J to practice her ad-libs in the morning. I guess the history of this building, accumulated with it being positioned in a once boisterous rock’n’roll neighborhood and the retro gramophone usb speakers on the beside table just reminded me that you can take a hotel out of the past, but
you can’t take the past out of a hotel. The Redbury has proven to me that you can combine any era with another and satisfy the wishes of those who like nostalgia but are happy to be alive in this day and age, like myself.
#3. Hoorsenbuhs / Damien Hirst on Broome
Yes, Hoorsenbuhs is my favorite jewelry brand thus far, guilty, but let’s forget about that for a second. On Broome street, in Soho, lies their new haute gallery atop Damien Hirst’s studio. Say whatta whatta? Yes, best of both worlds or nah? As much as I love strolling through Soho as is, this is the greatest thing that could have happened to the neighborhood. It’s spacious, clean and the girl who runs it for Cali based boys Keith & Kether, makes it even better to set foot in this light overflowed space. A vault in the back makes you feel like you’re inside an old bank and their presentation boxes are the tits. Warning; you’ll want to own everything in the store so good thing they have a security guy at the door. Don’t worry, he’s really nice, just don’t cross him.