The art of fantasy building in hospitality
André Balazs knows best.
A couple of months ago, I went to Mr. Chow on a whim with a few friends. I hadn’t been in 4+ years and since that dinner, I’ve been obsessed with hospitality theatrics– not to be confused with club-staurants or anything tacky– but a well-oiled, well-orchestrated, sort of cinematic experience is right up my alley. I love order, I love predictability that catches you off guard, and I love a noodle-pulling show that commands silence from a white tablecloth dining room sipping on lychee martinis. Similarly, I don’t care about Carbone’s spicy rigatoni, but I do care about their ridiculously oversized menus and over-the-top dessert cart (okay, and the table side caesar).
I’ve been thinking a lot about guest experience recently. Questions like, who picks the hotel pens, how does the lobby bathroom music elicit a feeling, and who selects the staff uniforms? These are the big questions swirling around in my head these days because the experience feels so tied to the ‘show’ and the identities we adopt when we enter a hospitality experience. And all of these details, no matter how small, work together to integrate us into the show.
I once got drinks with someone who designs the interiors for bars and restaurants. She had just released her first furniture collection, designed with residential in mind and was telling me about the subtle yet important differences when designing for a commercial vs residential space. The lighting, the textures of the walls, the comfortability level of the chairs– it all plays a role in setting the scene for how you want people to exist in within the space. Residential is intimate and personal to the unique individuals you’re designing for, while commercial is based on imagination and the feelings you want people to feel. And she didn’t say this part, but maybe residential is for reality and commercial is for fantasy?
Maybe that’s how hospitality groups get to have so much fun in the spaces they dream up. And truthfully, I’ve been thinking about these things longer than just post-Mr. Chow. In college, I really wanted to work in hospitality, but not just any job or company would do. I had my sights set on working in creative or brand partnerships (foreshadowing for gr8 collab) at places like The Standard, The Sydell Group, or Public Hotels. I wanted to work at an unconventional hotel group, at least that’s what I waxed poetic about in the pages of my iPhone notes.
But my dreams of working for Ian Schrager or his comrades were cut short when it became clear I was going to be among the ‘covid grad’ population. Would anyone ever get to experience crisp hotel sheets or epic buffet brunches again, I wondered. And now that we’re out of that time, I’m just wondering if there’s anyone in hospitality reading this who wants to hire gr8 collab for a project…
From brand land
Brand universe building is the equivalent of hospitality experience building. Very few brands do this well because it requires standing for something, going all in on it, and never straying from the plot. Many brands can’t do it because they simply don’t have the resources (capital, money, know-how) to make it happen. Some times, brands are unfocused. In other cases, brands are just lazy.
Since I started consulting for brands a few months ago, I’ve been asked at least five times, “How can we have a personality like Vacation?” The answer? You’d have to hire Alissa Valladon, the community manager, responsible for the brand’s quick-witted voice across social. She worked in entertainment for years, formerly as a writer at TV Land and MTV, and she’s an absolute legend. Aside from Alissa’s work, the brand has made going viral look effortless. The brand launched with an “honorable employee” generator, where over 12,000 people shuffled through job titles like “karaoke bar attendant,” chief golf cart consultant,” and “hammock inspector.” Site visitors raced to plug in their phone numbers to secure their titles, while the brand secured the most sacred line of communication to turn them into customers.
I’ve also been asked, “How do we build a world like Flamingo Estate?” The short response? Cancel your WeWork membership and move your office to an estate formerly used to make erotica films. The answer that takes longer to explain but has legs– Build something genuine, bring in people who add a fresh perspective to the storyline, and stand for something. And it doesn’t hurt to have Kelly Wearstler on speed dial.
I’m being dramatic, I realize that, and I know what everyone is getting at, but I also understand that these are once-in-a-generation brands. If everyone could do it, we wouldn’t be paying attention the the universes they’ve built at all. We’d be bored.
What I think we all need to get better at is distilling down what resonates with us about the brands we love. That will make us more discerning consumers and more thoughtful brand builders.
Spaces to lose sleep over
I admire and appreciate André Balazs’ approach to hospitality at large. From London’s Chiltern Firehouse to LA’s Chateau Marmont and Shelter Island’s Sunset Beach, this man knows how to meticulously build dreamy fantasy worlds that each feel so unique and special.
At the top of my hotel-brand-building-wishlist has always been André’s Standard hotels. What they sometimes lack in hotel room square footage, their properties make up for in quick-witted campaigns, whimsical activations, well-curated gift shops, and really cool community-led collabs. I like that they don’t take themselves too seriously from a brand perspective. And while they’ve lost some momentum in recent years due to the sheer number of cool groups competing for the spotlight, André has been doing hotel with a personality long before everyone else decided to join in on the fun.
The Standard Hollywood opened in 1999 and was the group’s first hotel, located on The Sunset Strip in a midcentury building. This location closed temporarily during covid and never reopened… RIP, but when I recently learned of “The Box” installation it sent me on a rabbit hole. Created by interior designer, Shawn Hausman, it was inspired by Area, the NYC nightclub he co-founded which would take on a new theme every six weeks. Shawn designed all of The Standard’s US properties and the iconic Chateau Marmont.
Located behind the front desk, the 15 feet long, 4 feet wide, 5 feet tall glass box contained a mattress, fresh sheets, and pillows. Inside, artists and models could decorate the space however they wanted during their residency and do whatever they wanted– check their email, sleep, read, listen to music, as long as they didn’t talk to or make eye contact with guests. Writer, Lilibet Snellings, who took on shifts in “The Box” between 2007 and 2011, wrote about her experience in Box Girl: My Part Time Job as an Art Installation. Should we book club this?
A note from the last letter
A lot of you have sent me moments of powdered blue and red and it’s made me so happy. I thought I could be going out on a limb with that one, so it’s been cool to feel so seen. A moment for all of you, thank you:
I am obsessed with hospitality as a reference source for brand experience - long standing, community-focused businesses that are best in class at developing real relationships with clients!!
The brand universe of Vacation is unmatched - brb running to follow Alissa’s work