Stylish Little Stay

The über fancy SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills was designed by famous French designer Phillip Starck (the guy who makes the uncomfortable looking clear plastic chairs). Its lobby is lit like a nightclub—very dark at all hours-- and has a tall glowing box behind the front desk with a written series of phrases that try to hint at what SLS stands for:

Soft like silk

She looks spellbound

Seriously lovely space

Scribble love sonnets

Sparkle like sunshine

Share lovely sunsets

Sleepy little sighs

And it seemed kind of cute and only just a tiny bit precious as we read these phrases while sitting on a mirrored bench, in front of a mirror, waiting to check in. Across from the bench was huge black horse lamp-- the size of an actual horse-- with a light bulb and a lampshade sticking out of his head. Beside him was an enormous pot belled pig statue, carrying a tray of tiny apples on his back.

Lisa grabbed an apple so I did too, and we ate them in about 3 bites and then found ourselves holding apple cores with nowhere to put them. “I want to think of an SLS phrase about there not being a garbage can anywhere,” I said to Lisa.

“Seriously lacking sanitation,” she shot back right away.

The room was beautiful, heavily mirrored, and featured many more SLS phrases. The Room Service menu was entitled Some Light Snacks. The mini bar drinks menu said Sip Luscious Spirits. There was a little box beside one bed called Sensuous Little Secrets that you could purchase for $26. Inside it were 2 condoms and 2 very sexy ‘adult antimicrobial wipes’. Ew. I felt they missed an opportunity by not labeling the condoms with the subtitle ‘stops little swimmers’. Oh well.

The bathroom was another adventure: were the toilet not immediately visible upon walking into the room, I would have assumed I probably had to climb up on the counter to relieve myself, since this stainless steel sink looked more like a stylish bedpan than anything else.

I loved the half-a-white-jelly-bean bathtub with mustard coloured curtains, although it was a bitch to get in and out of, and the position of the hand held shower wand caused me to knock the shampoo onto the floor every time I used it.

And, the four mirrored bathroom walls were a bit much too; short of closing my eyes, there was no way to avoid watching myself pee. (No picture of that, sorry.)

On our guestroom floor while we waited for the elevator to go out that night, we could have sat in this chair featuring a cat head on a suited person’s body,

sitting next to a lamp with a gun for a base,

beside a huge 15 foot by 7 foot backlit photo of Penelope Cruz writhing around with a snake,

and a pool table (because all of these things go so well together, obviously).

On the pool table was a little sign saying ‘sink lovely shots’, telling us to ask at the concierge desk if we wanted the billiards stuff. Perhaps they had to put the sign there because people kept bringing in their own snakes and then climbing up on the table and writhing around like Penelope? I’ll admit, it was tempting.

Only place in the whole hotel without mirrors: the elevator. Instead they had life sized pictures of people avoiding looking at each other, they way they do in a real elevator.

But what do I know about style? Nothing! When I’m in a hurry, I’ll occasionally wear crocs out of the house, and recently I got my haircut for the first time in eighteen months. Sometimes when she looks at my outfit, my ten year old daughter pats my arm condescendingly and says “It’s okay, mom.”

Ah, but what do I know about hotels? A lot. I used to be a manager in a few upscale hotels, taught hotel management in a college, and have even written textbooks on the subject, and this hotel was great in all the right ways: our room was perfectly silent, I slept soundly, the soap smelled good, and, most importantly, the staff were so kind and professional I’d say I haven’t experienced better service anywhere. So what if their breakfast menu features a twenty five dollar dish of quail eggs, mixed with bananas, rice, and salsa? Who am I to judge? Maybe that’s a thing now.

So long, SLS-- it was a sweet little stay (especially because Lisa's husband generously gave us his airline points to pay for it). And if you ever go, now you know -- do not pee in the sink. You're welcome.