Half a block off Union Square (the city's answer to Fifth Avenue) and away from the panhandler-ridden Theater District, this boutique hotel caters to the fashion/retail industries. But not the junior buyers; instead, you'll find their bosses. Or, more likely, their bosses. (And Oscar de la Renta, when he's in town.) If you're young and trendy, try the Clift. But if you usually travel by corporate jet, you'll feel at home here: The atmosphere is hushed, the decor a range of Armani taupes and the service friendly but not overbearing.
The RoomsIt's not just the efficient soundproofing that evokes a Gulf Stream (traffic outside becomes a distant whoosh), it's the compact, almost cocoonlike guestrooms: Standards measure only 250 square feet, and even in the deluxe rooms (360 square feet) and Campton Suites (466), much of the pear- or cherrywood furniture is built in to save space. The bathrooms -- outfitted in Portuguese limestone and Molton Brown toiletries -- are relatively large, though. Think "European": The king-size beds sport no top sheets, just white Mascioni duvet covers. And if you can't live without your Sunday night Entourage, be warned: The hotel offers 10 sports and news channels but no HBO.
The ServiceThe desk clerks double as concierges and even therapists -- check in late after a day of meetings, and the bellboy may say, worriedly, “They're working you hard.” The room-service menu is oddly brief, but you're encouraged to make special requests. (If only one's breakfast tea would come brewed, not as a tea bag and a carafe of warm water.) Small pets are welcomed, though the hotel staff draws the line at walking Fido for you.
The HighlightsThe lobby isn't grand, and there's no spa or pool or serious athletic facility (though a major freshening-up is planned for 2007) -- the hotel's main amenity is the restaurant Campton Place. If you are indeed being worked too hard, sit down among the subtle cream and chocolate decor and unwind over Tai snapper with peach and saffron, guinea hen with chanterelle mushrooms or other creations from hot new chef Peter Rudolph.
-- Christine Ryan