When one British nobleman wanted to propose to his girlfriend and it was clear that no ordinary diamond would do, he turned to Karine Zacharias of KZACHARIAS, formerly of Gem Trails. ‘The bride said that, if she ever got married, she wanted an 18th-century, pear-shaped diamond from the Golconda mine. It was a very particular and exclusive piece,’ explains Karine.

Eight months and €800,000 later, the five-carat diamond was acquired through her network of Indian contacts, gathered when she was living in Jaipur. (The girlfriend said yes.)

Karine is one of a number of jewellery detectives using an extensive network to replace a loved piece that has been lost or stolen (although finding the exact item is another matter). Another common request is furnishing a nostalgic ancestor with a beautiful piece similar to one that their grandmother once owned.

Lee Siegelson in New York shares this enthusiasm for sleuthing: ‘I had someone request a specific Cartier bangle owned by the Duchess of Windsor. I knew where it was and I was able to get it quickly and offer it to the client, who purchased it and was thrilled.’

Each request is different and Lee keeps track of who owns important pieces wherever possible: ‘The ideal scenario is when someone asks for something and I already know where it is — or I already own it.’

He relies mostly on phone calls and his established and trusted contacts. ‘The big reveal is exciting, when you’ve managed to acquire the right object, but the behind-the-scenes detective work might appear boring to observers.’

Fuelling the market for jewellery sleuths is a surge in interest in Art Deco pieces and signed works by the likes of Suzanne Belperron, Louis Comfort for Tiffany and Andrew Grima. Tutti Frutti by Cartier is in hot demand and there’s a surprising resurgence in brooches.

Another sleuth who thrills in the chase is Guy Burton of St James Street jewellery emporium Hancocks, who also helps with replacing pieces that have been stolen. ‘The reality is that the likelihood of finding the exact same jewel is very slim and expectations need to be managed from the start,’ he reflects. ‘Pictures of the original pieces are absolutely essential, so we always recommend keeping good records of your jewellery collection. An important place to consider starting with is the Art Loss Register and we would be able to do research through our international sources to see if the item is on the market.’

If the original can’t be found, Guy is likely to be able to locate something similar. Auction houses are another good source. Don’t discount smaller ones, such as the well-respected Chiswick Auctions and Fellows in Birmingham, but the big three are, of course, Sotheby’s, Christie’s and Bonhams, especially when it comes to tracking down standout gemstones.

‘I have a very important private client who collects top-quality gemstones,’ says Mei Y, the then director of private sales (jewellery) at Christie’s. ‘She wanted a pair of very rare yellow Zimmi diamonds. We found them for her in Switzerland by trawling through cutters and manufacturers and set them into ear studs.’

Kristian Spofforth, head of Sotheby’s London jewellery sales, is often tasked with trying to trace or replace a stolen piece. ‘It can be really hard if the piece is very old, as, sadly, people give descriptions, not records,’ he explains. ‘If it’s from a large jewellery house, such as Van Cleef & Arpels, we can contact the company and say Mr X bought this in 1942. Its archive department is often able to help.’

When the search proves successful, however, the rewards are rich. ‘When the client says “that is exactly like my grandmother’s, it’s what I’ve been looking for”, it’s really satisfying,’ concludes Kristian.

Some hotels spend an awful lot of time, energy and money trying to convince guests that they're cool. Ace Hotel in Brooklyn is not one of them.

This outpost of the growing group — they have a habit of opening in locations on the verge of being gentrified (in this case Boerum Hill on the fringes of Downton Brooklyn) — feels embedded in the neighbourhood around it.

It's a hotel but also: a community hub, workspace, music venue and, occasionally, what feels like Brooklyn's most attractive living room.

The rooms

The rooms are exactly what you'd hope for from a Brooklyn hotel — but executed better than most. There are concrete ceilings and ginormous factory casement windows, inspired by the building's industrial architecture. The latter allow light to flood in throughout the day; some look onto neighbouring residential buildings, others, on the upper floors, provide sweeping views across the city that are tricky to tear your eyes away from.

The decor — bespoke, mid-century-style furniture, locally-made artwork, accents of forest green and navy blue — helps to soften the industrial bones of the building.

My room came equipped with a vintage turntable, which immediately made me feel cooler than I actually am.

Eating and drinking

The Lobby (above) — open all day for coffee and food, and late into the evening when it transforms into a lively bar — is the hotel's beating heart.

A huge number of the local work-from-home crowd use it as a substitute office and, far from negatively affecting the atmosphere, they give the place purpose. Too many hotels try to cultivate a sense of exclusivity by restricting access to their communal spaces — and end up feeling soulless.

There's nothing soulless about Lele's Roman, a restaurant inspired by the lively Roman neighbourhood of Trastevere. You'd never know it, but it isn't operated by the Ace group itself, despite occupying the same building. Order a big bowl of rustic pasta — the world's greatest food group and I won't entertain alternative opinions — and a baby negroni (or three, which just about equals a normal serving).

There's also Koju, a 14-course omakase experience, for something a little bit more formal.

How they'll keep you busy

There is a gym outfitted by the heavyweights at Yeah, I Work Out, which looked excellent.

I had every intention of using it.

I did not.

Thankfully, there are plenty of other ways to occupy your time.

Ace's artist-in-residence programme means there's always something interesting to marvel at as you wander through the lobby. The hotel also maintains an impressively curated calendar of live music, parties, talks and community gatherings.

Failing that, simply retreat to your room and indulge in my favourite sport: people-watching.

What else to do while you're here

Ace describes its location as being 'at the ever-evolving intersection of everything'.

I approached such a claim with some scepticism. This is New York, after all. Every neighbourhood could make a convincing argument for being at the centre of culture, food, music, The Arts and whatever else happens to be fashionable that week. But the hotel sits just two blocks from Atlantic Avenue, the 10.5-mile thoroughfare stretching from Brooklyn's waterfront all the way to Jamaica, Queens. It's dotted with independent boutiques, homeware shops, vintage stores, upscale coffee shops and enviably well-stocked global grocers.

The area is also one of Brooklyn's major transport hubs, making it remarkably easy to hop into Manhattan whenever the mood strikes.

Who's it for?

Everyone.

That may sound like a cop-out, but Ace is fundamentally about community — and making guests feel like they're part of one. Whether you're travelling alone, as a couple or with a group of friends, there's a sense of belonging here that's surprisingly rare.

What gives it the 'wow' factor?

The attention to detail. The subtle kind.

The Smeg fridges tucked into the rooms. The wonderfully easy-to-use Tivoli radios. The quirky typography on the in-room dining menus and information packs. Every element feels considered without ever feeling precious.

The staff also deserve special mention — and not just because someone complimented my jacket minutes after arriving. Even at my pre-dawn departure they were warm and helpful.

The one thing we'd change

Activity from The Lobby and the rumble of nearby subway lines might disturb light sleepers. For most guests, however, it's simply part of the soundtrack of staying in one of New York's most characterful neighbourhoods.

Rooms at Ace Hotel in Brooklyn start from $349. For more information and to book, visit their website.

Whenever I visit the British Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, I always stop in front of a Gothic Windsor armchair, made in about 1760, with a towering, pointed back and stacks of intricate tracery.

Although originally intended for a country house such as Strawberry Hill, Twickenham, I like to imagine it in a Manhattan penthouse, blending into the skyline outside the windows. I’m not the only one who thinks so.

‘A new generation of collectors and audiences is turning to British furniture (and to historic works overall) because of extraordinary craftsmanship, sustainability and the human stories embedded in every piece,’ says Helen Allen, the executive director of The Winter Show, America’s longest-running fair for classic art and design.

This is very much in evidence at the Met’s British Galleries, which were completely renovated in 2020, just before the onset of covid.

Where earlier incarnations of the galleries focused on Georgian furniture, a longtime staple of American collecting, the new presentation of the spaces shows the breadth of British design, from a state bed made for the Court of William III to a Victorian side chair by Edward Welby Pugin, son of Augustus. The emphasis here is on discovery as much as it is on history.

‘One takeaway with English furniture is that you have to see it in person,’ believes Wolf Burchard, the curator of the Met’s new galleries. ‘For example, we are now showing an incredibly beautiful China table attributed to Chippendale, which was sitting in storage and which I only knew from photographs. The moment I laid eyes on it in person, I knew it had to go on view. Now I think it is one of the best pieces we have on display.’

Collectors — and, of course, the dealers who advise them — may take this approach a step further. ‘At The Winter Show, there is a growing emphasis on context and storytelling — placing English furniture within narratives that connect design, history and contemporary life,’ explains Natasha.

‘Exhibitors are increasingly thoughtful about juxtaposition, showing historic pieces alongside modern works to highlight their continued relevance.’

The resurgence of certain niche collecting fields highlights this hybrid American taste. Patrick Bavasi, who recently opened his own gallery after a decade directing the venerable Hyde Park Antiques, notes a renewed interest in Anglo-Indian and Chinese export furniture. ‘Americans aren’t fussed necessarily with absolute English tradition in terms of the decorative arts,’ he notes. ‘I don’t think we are averse to interpretations on a theme.’

Where does this leave ‘my’ Gothic Windsor chair? Interior designer Bunny Williams and her business partner Elizabeth Lawrence, New York’s arbiters of Anglophile style, put me at ease. They describe a pair of English furniture collectors who recently moved to a modern apartment in town.

‘They had one of the most beautiful walnut secretary desks,’ reveals Bunny, ‘The wood was beautiful, it was period, it was incredible, and moving that into a white room with contemporary paintings — all of a sudden, you noticed it because it wasn’t with other English furniture. It sort of became a piece of sculpture in the room.’

‘It gave it new life,’ Elizabeth adds. Perhaps, that’s what English furniture can achieve today in the USA: a new, if unexpected, life at a time when we are craving authenticity above all.

‘In a world of digital saturation and fast production, an 18th-century English chair or cabinet offers something increasingly rare and, frankly, radical — permanence, provenance and a profound connection to the arc of history,’ considers Helen. ‘When the present feels uncertain, the past becomes a source of meaning, stability, and truth.’

Why not aim for that in a Manhattan penthouse?

This feature originally appeared in the June 17, 2026, issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.

35, Sagg Road doesn't sound like the most auspicious of locations (sag: 'to drop down to a lower level in the middle'), but it's located in one of the it in the heart of one the Hamptons' most exclusive post codes (11962). Addresses, it seems, can be deceiving.

The house at number 35 is one of only sixteen designated historic structures in the village of Sagaponack, on Long Island's South Fork, and it was built nearly three decades before the first Independence Day celebrations were held (July 4, 1777). It's for sale with Douglas Elliman for $3,995,000 (about £3 million).

Properties from this period are hard to come by in America — in fact only about 12% of all homes were built before 1940. The oldest indigenous building on mainland USA is Ocmulgee Earth Lodge, built in around 1015AD, but the oldest colonial buildings are the Palace of Governors, New Mexico (1610) and Fairbanks House, Massachusetts (1641).

35, Sagg Road has just remerged from an extensive programme of restoration works and poke around behind the historic façade and you'll find new plumbing, high-efficiency heating, ventilation and air-conditioning (HVAC), Nest smart systems and full soundproofing between floors. Thankfully, plenty of 35's character has been preserved, including the original 18th century beams, and the sellers, and the sellers spared little expense when it came to the new fittings. Think custom millwork, period-style paneling, solid oak doors with brass rim locks and unlacquered brass hardware. It shows.

There are three bedrooms and three bathrooms, a study, den and garage — and a landscaped garden with a swimming pool and a a 1,500‑square‑foot barn that's ripe for future development. The total plot measures nearly one acre.

Our favourite room is the kitchen with its Michelangelo marble, a Shaw farmhouse sink and premium appliances.

Sagaponack has around 450 year-round residents and, until the 20th century, was dominated by massive potato farms (it takes its name from a Shinnecock phrase meaning 'the land of the big ground nuts', referring to wild potatoes). Acres of Sagaponack’s original potato farms are protected as agricultural reserves which means that the area has a myriad unobstructed views out to the ocean.

It's something that hasn't gone unnoticed by second home owners who have transformed the area and driven prices up by so much that the village has ranked among the three most expensive post codes in the USA for more than a decade (and the single most expensive one in New York State).

In 2025, PropertyShark placed the median sale price at just under $6 million — which, if you think about it, means 35, Sagg Road is a bit of a bargain.

35, Sagg Road is for sale via Douglas Elliman — see more details.

There are many sentences that I think about on an almost daily basis, and most of them come from a letter that Hunter S. Thompson wrote to Anthony Burgess. They involve lizards, hoodlums, thugs, ‘a 50,000 word novella about the condition humane’, typewriters and piazzas. I get a lot of emails, plenty of which are useless, and it’s only a mix of time constraints and politeness that stops me from responding to most of them with this amalgam of insults that Dr Thompson concocted while running the National Affairs Desk at Rolling Stone.

The first time I encountered this elite piece of correspondence was at the Freemason’s Hall, when it was read aloud to me (and many others) by Dominic West. The event was my first experience of Letters Live, the epistolary event that was first created by Shaun Usher and Jamie Byng in 2013. Other readings from that night included Andrew Scott reading DO, a letter from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse; Kurt Vonnegut’s letter to the children of Xavier High School in New York City, brought to life by Sir Ian McKellen; and Noel Coward’s correspondence to Marlene Dietrich, imploring her to ‘NOT be so bloody vulnerable’, perfectly executed by Benedict Cumberbatch.

So much of that night remains in my memory (particularly Vonnegut’s apology for not making a public appearance, due to his resembling an ‘iguana’ at the age of 84). But that’s the thing with letters, isn’t it? They stick with you. They stick with you because they take great care and effort to write, and because when you read them you understand that someone has stopped and made the effort to write to you.

‘A letter asks for patience, from both the writer and the reader,’ Shaun tells me, via email. ‘It allows for uncertainty, contradiction, and vulnerability in a way instant communication rarely does. Letters capture people mid-thought, without hindsight. You meet someone exactly where they were, on a particular day, feeling whatever they were feeling.’

Shaun’s obsession with letters began in 2002, from a place of love. ‘My now-wife and I fell in love largely by letter,’ he says. ‘Writing to one another slowly, carefully, and without an audience changed how I understood what letters could hold. That curiosity soon spilled into reading other people’s correspondence, and before long I was completely hooked.’

In 2009, he launched the website Letters of Note, which then led to a bestselling book in 2013 (‘I never imagined how widely it would resonate’). It was at the launch of that book that Letters Live was born, when Byng, the CEO and publisher of Canongate, suggested ‘bringing the letters off the page and reading them aloud, simply and without embellishment’. That evening was the first Letters Live. ‘Something happened in the room,’ Shaun says. ‘Hearing these voices aloud gave the letters a new kind of life, and it was immediately clear there was something worth continuing.’

And continue it has, with around 90 shows both in the UK and internationally. From humble beginnings at a book launch, Letters Live has performed in London, Los Angeles and New York City. In 2016, at the Calais ‘Jungle’, Jude Law and Matt Berry read letters written by refugees, and during the Covid Lockdown, a digital event was broadcast from the Roundhouse. Festival appearances include Hay, Glastonbury and Wilderness.

The most recent event was at the Queen’s Elizabeth Hall on the Southbank, London, in association with Cunard, where the theme of the evening was a nautical one, and featured performances from Harriet Walter, Cumberbatch, West, Damian Lewis, Louise Brealey (who, like Cumberbatch, has been a long-time contributor), Toby Jones, Meera Syal and James Corden. Music was performed by Laura Mvula and Bea and her Business. The next event is at the Royal Albert Hall on April 22, and on May 14, Letters Live returns to New York City.

Having attended a few shows, what always stands out to me is the power of the written word. It would be easy to be overawed by the presence of the A-list performers, but the real stars were, are, and always will be the letters themselves. In a digital world, nothing captivates quite like correspondence.

Were you surprised by the popularity?

Yes, very much so. Letters Live was never conceived as a long-term project. That first show was simply a launch event, an experiment, and we all assumed it would end there. What surprised me wasn’t just that people came, but how they listened. People were willing to sit still and give their full attention to someone else’s words, written in another time, for another person. The response since has been consistently humbling. Audiences return, performers ask to be involved, and the format continues to find new rooms and new contexts. The recent show with Cunard was a good example of that: letters shaped by long journeys and time at sea finding their way back into a shared, live space, and being met with the same quiet attentiveness.

What are some of your favourite letters that have been read out at an event?

That’s always a difficult question, because favourites tend to shift with time and context. Letters read recently often linger longest. At our most recent show, Dame Harriet Walter read a wonderful letter by the American poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, written at sea, full of wit, physicality, and delight in the experience of travel. Damian Lewis, meanwhile, transformed himself entirely in a letter written by the pirate Henry Every, bringing a surprising mixture of menace and theatrical flair to the stage. One of the pleasures of Letters Live is the sheer variety of performances, and not knowing which as-yet-unused letter, or which upcoming reading, will soon become a favourite. We’ve barely scratched the surface.

How do you find the letters?

They come from everywhere. I spend a lot of time in archives, libraries, museums, and buried inside published collections of correspondence. I also have thousands of letters in my own library at home, which I dip into constantly. We’re also often given access to private or institutional archives held by our partners, which can open up whole worlds of previously unseen correspondence. For our most recent show, Cunard shared material from their own maritime archives, which was a real gift. Often it’s a footnote or passing reference that leads somewhere unexpected.

Obviously one of the great pulls of the show are the celebrities. How do you choose them? Do they reach out to you?

It’s a mixture. Sometimes we approach people we admire, and sometimes performers come to us after seeing a show. The best readings are the ones where the performer almost disappears and becomes a conduit for the voice on the page. When that happens, the room leans in.

Do you have a favourite performer?

I genuinely don’t. We’ve been incredibly lucky. Different performers bring different energies, and part of the pleasure is never quite knowing how a letter will sound until it’s read aloud for the first time.

What does the success of the programme tell us about the art of letter writing? Is it a dying art?

Letter writing is certainly less common in everyday life. But the success of Letters Live suggests the appetite for slowness, depth, and sincerity hasn’t gone anywhere. People still want words that have been thought through. Writing shaped by time rather than speed. Letters may be written less often now, but when we encounter them, they still carry enormous weight.

Any exciting plans for the future? You’ve done the UK, New York, Los Angeles, Glastonbury. Anywhere else?

There are always conversations bubbling away. One of the pleasures of Letters Live is how well it travels, both geographically and emotionally. I can’t say too much yet, but there are certainly places we’d love to take it next.

Do you write a lot of letters yourself?

Everyone presumes, understandably, that I write letters on a daily basis. The truth is, I spend far more time reading and listening to other people’s letters than writing my own. That said, sailing on the Queen Mary 2 recently did something I hadn’t expected. While staying in the ship’s Grill Suite, the pace slowed, distractions fell away, and I found myself reaching for a pen. It was a reminder of why letters existed in the first place.

What do you think makes a great letter?

Honesty. A great letter isn’t trying to perform. It’s trying to say what needs to be said. Whether it’s funny, furious, tender, or mundane, the best letters feel necessary, as though the writer couldn’t not write them. That urgency, that truthfulness, is what allows a letter to last.

The Letters Live in association with Cunard show was a celebration of sea voyages and the exclusive sanctuaries of Cunard's Grill Suites.

The particular edition of Letters Live drew inspiration from the calmness of sea travel, and the human need to stay connected across oceans during crossings. As experienced by Shaun Usher on his recent voyage aboard 'Queen Mary 2', the experience is shaped by spaces designed for reflection, such as the Grill Suites, where generous living areas, private balconies, and attentive concierge and butler services create an atmosphere of calm and elegance.

For more information, click here.

I first visited Fouquet’s New York in late 2022, when it had just opened and memories of the havoc wreaked by the Pandemic were starting to fade. The mood in New York felt cautiously optimistic and I was buoyed by the fact that a) the hotel was busy and b) native New Yorkers were already congregating around the speakeasy-style bar. I didn’t know it then, but the launch would kickstart a tsunami-size wave of new hotel openings around the globe.

The hotel is on a cobbled street in downtown Greenwich, but feels decidedly French: from the Cannes-inspired cinema room (above), to the spa that echoes the small chain’s St Barths property.

The man behind the interiors isn’t French at all, but Swedish-born and London-based designer-of-the-last decade Martin Brudnizki. The rooms are all slightly different: sugary pink walls and a pistachio sofa in one; a French navy roll-top bath in a second; custom wallpaper covered in sketches of popular Manhattan and Parisian landmarks in a third.

I stayed for a second time in late 2025 and was delighted to find that little had changed, including the superb bespoke scent — Fugue a Paris — perfuming the lobby. An often overlooked way to make the best first impression.

The rooms

If, for whatever reason, you’ve ever wondered what it would feel like to live inside a macaroon, then look no further than Fouquet’s. I love the decidedly feminine, pastel-coloured bedrooms, but I expect they’re not for everyone. And that’s fine. They’re delicate and comfortable — but never childlike thanks to clever design decisions such as Art Deco inspired furniture and decor, and parquet flooring — and a welcome juxtaposition from the skyscrapers and harsh architecture lingering outside.

Some rooms overlook the Hudson River, and others, on the building’s corners, offer panoramic views of the city. All have marble bathrooms filled with Diptyque amenities.

Eating and drinking

There are three restaurants and a bar, including Brasserie Fouquet’s, a ground-floor-level outpost of the Fouquet’s in Paris (described by Country Life as ‘the Champs Élysées’ silver-screen canteen’, because it hosts the annual César Awards’ dinner and is regularly visited by A-list Hollywood celebrities).

In 2022, beret-wearing staff welcomed diners with greetings of ‘bonjour’ — a gimmick that they have, I’m happy to report, disposed of. It doesn’t need it; it’s popular as is, especially on the weekend, for brunch, with local Tribeca families and groups of friends. The onion soup is particularly popular, served with a pleasingly solid cheese lid.

The other options are Élysée's, which is open all day, and Le Vaux Rooftop, which is located atop the eight-story hotel and only open in the spring and summer months. They make a mean cocktail and the view is rather good too — especially framed by twinkling lights on a balmy New York summer evening.

How they’ll keep you busy

The spa is impressively comprehensive for a hotel of this size and place (there is a sauna, hammam and hydrotherapy pool). It’s well worth a visit and feels light and airy despite being underground. And it would be remiss of me not to mention the gym, which was designed in partnership with DOGPOUND, a cult New York and LA fitness brand that famously prepared Taylor Swift for her record-breaking ‘Eras’ tour. Go it alone with the top-of-the-line Technogym equipment or request a private training session with one of DOGPOUND’s specialist trainers. It is open 24 hours.

What else to do while you’re there

The West Side Highway, a 5.42-mile scenic road running alongside the Hudson River, is two blocks away; The Whitney Museum, with its impressive collection of 20th- and 21st-century American art, is a 25 minute walk.

Click here to read our complete guide to Manhattan, New York.

Who is it for?

I’ve always thought that the hotel’s soft glamour is best suited to small groups of girlfriends; when I was last there New York content creator Audrey Peters was enjoying a solo staycation, accompanied only by her sausage dog.

However, the massive penthouse and adjoining suites might appeal to families, though I’ve never seen any children in the lifts or outside of the restaurant.

What gives it the ‘wow’ factor

Fouquet’s has 97 bedrooms and suites, but it feels like an intimate, boutique-size hotel. There are always guests lingering in the lobby — key for atmosphere, I think — but I’ve never had to queue at the check-in desk or ever felt on top of anyone.

The one thing we’d change

The chocolate Arc de Triomphe waiting for you in your room when you first arrive. I eat the whole thing every single time because I have no willpower, and as lovely as they are, it doesn’t do my waistband any favours…

Room cost from $1,000 per night, based on two people sharing. Visit the Fouquet's website for more information and to book.

‘Bye bye, Blue Boy,’ at least one alliterative art lover must have said — one imagines through tears — while staring up at the iconic Thomas Gainsborough painting when it was hung in London’s National Gallery in January 1922. The portrait of an unknown youth dressed in blue finery, owned by the Duke of Westminster and ensconced in Britain's cultural heritage, had been bought — by an American. Prior to being shipped to California, it was displayed publicly so Britons could bid farewell. Some 90,000 did so over three weeks.

The purchase of The Blue Boy, by railroad magnate Henry E. Huntington, was, in today’s terms, ‘a flex’. It signalled that things were going well enough in the former colonies across the Atlantic that the nation’s wealthy could pay the British prices they couldn’t refuse for their own treasures. Huntington paid 728,000 of those days’ dollars for The Blue Boy, making it the most expensive painting in the world.

Until then, the American attitude toward Gainsborough (1727–88), who in Britain was the most sought-after society portraitist of his day, might best be described as indifferent. As for contemporaneous interest, recall that America’s birth year is 1776, and you’ll grant the business of founding a nation to have been a reasonable distraction. Indeed, through most of the century that followed, America was more preoccupied with finding its footing than it was with overseas oil paintings; during the Civil War, it was Gettysburg, not Gainsborough.

That all changed with the Gilded Age and the turn of the 20th century, when America’s newly wealthy industrialists began acquiring Georgian paintings as a means of connecting to their British past. The Huntingtons on the West Coast and the Vanderbilts and Fricks on the East homed in on Gainsborough in particular. Even across the Midwest, in places like St. Louis and Kansas City, collectors clamoured for his portraits to hang in their homes.

Now, a century later, the artist is back in the spotlight in the USA with Gainsborough: The Fashion of Portraiture, on view through May 25 at The Frick Collection in New York City (above). While Henry Clay Frick bought eight Gainsborough works in his lifetime, and the museum acquired others after his death, the exhibition is the first devoted to the artist at The Frick, and in New York more broadly, it’s the first of his portraiture, ever. Bringing together The Frick’s holdings as well as loans from collections across North America and the UK, the show explores the fashions depicted in Gainsborough’s portraits — all that brocade and silk and lace, rendered in the artist’s webby, illusionistic brushwork — as well as fashions around portraiture itself (the act of having a portrait made, and how).

The 25-work transatlantic grouping is the initiative of Aimee Ng. The Frick chief curator began working on it a decade ago, and with the museum’s highly publicised renovation complete and the place reopened, the show is on.

I asked Aimee about the Gilded Age enthusiasm for Gainsborough. ‘Suddenly, it's within the realm of possibility for these American collectors to get these treasured objects across the Atlantic’, she says. ‘The dust has settled, and America figures out, “Okay — we're okay — and there is a more historic and stately past to celebrate”. Americans see that their British origin is something they actually do want to aspire to recreate in some way.’

Across two rooms, The Fashion of Portraiture traces the arc of Gainsborough’s career, from the Suffolk native’s time working in the countryside, to his move to fashionable Bath and ultimately to London. Starting with a few of his early ‘conversation pieces’ — group portraits of small-scale figures, including the unforgettable Mr. and Mrs. Andrews (about 1750) — it moves through the full-length and bust portraits he made at his peak. For the era’s ‘people of fashion’ — a term connoting a rank below nobility, but above ‘the vulgar’ — what one wore in their portrait was as important as who painted it, or its execution. While Gainsborough sometimes depicted his sitters in period ‘Van Dyck dress’, he generally insisted on contemporary fashion, considering it integral to the likeness. He’d even alter a portrait years after he made it, painting over whatever clothes were originally shown to update the sitter’s look.

Speaking to the difference between Gainsborough’s place in Britain and in America, Aimee says that in negotiating loans from American collections, she was typically borrowing from a museum, where the work is an object with an inventory number. In the UK, she was sometimes asking to borrow a family portrait hung in a stately home, as was the case in petitioning the Duke of Norfolk’s estate for Bernard Howard, 12th Duke of Norfolk (1788).

With next year the 300th anniversary of Gainsborough’s birth, Aimee was relieved to pull off The Fashion of Portraiture ahead of the celebratory exhibitions being planned in the UK. ‘It's like a fistfight out there right now for Gainsboroughs,’ she says, ‘so I’m very happy to be clear of that.’

When The Surrey hotel reopened under the Corinthia umbrella, there was an air of confusion over its choice of interior designer.

Martin Brudnizki, lauded for his use of colour, texture and pattern — normally all in one go — didn’t seem like a natural fit for a hotel group that tended to skew towards the beige end of the paint chart.

The result is stupendous: richly decorated bedrooms, in delectable shades of lemon, vanilla and honey, that seemingly invite you to touch everything. Think raspy boucle and silk seagrass wallpapers, smooth-as-butter leather drawer liners and reeded-glass light fittings.

There’s an outpost of Casa Tua on the ground floor (the popular American chain regularly has people tearing their hair out over a reservation) and a bijou, but sensational spa featuring excellent Sisley treatments, an outdoor yoga deck and my new favourite hotel amenity, a salt room.

The rooms

The Surrey sits in close proximity to two Upper East Side hotel doyennes, The Carlyle, A Rosewood Hotel, and The Mark Hotel; together they cup East 76th Street and East 77th Street in a sort of horse shoe shape.

All three are fantastic in their own right, but despite looking very similar at first glance, there are in fact subtle differences that will appeal to, or repel, different travellers.

The Carlyle is New York’s ageing beauty — recently renovated, but most definitely still wedded, pleasingly, to its Art Deco roots. The Mark is all restrained elegance with streaks of quirky character (for example: the hot dog cart outside the front door) occasionally peeking through. The Surrey — the new kid on the block — is more overtly contemporary and flashier and nowhere is this more evident than in the jewel box-like rooms.

The textured bedrooms, described above, are beautiful, but given the chance you should really ask for one of the four signature suites. They’re called Pine Bank Bridge Suite, Bethesda Grandeur Suite, Greywacke Heritage Suite, and The Surrey Suite and each one pays homage to one of Central Park’s iconic sites.

Greywacke, close to The Metropolitan Museum of Art, is a Sarecenic-style bridge with a central pointed arch and lined in a type of sandstone of the same name and red brick. The one-bedroom suite uses terracotta tones to mimic those materials and geometric details inspired by the carvings and patterns that are a core component of Sarecenic style.

My favourite is the Bethesda Grandeur Suite — whose silky walls remind me of lemon posset pudding. There’s a marble bathroom with double vanity and marble bath, a butler’s pantry and glass-enclosed fireplace.

Eating and drinking

Casa Tua means ‘your home’ in Italian and it has wildly popular outposts in Miami, Aspen, Paris and, of course, New York. The food is, unsurprisingly, inspired by traditional Italian fare, and though I do whip up a lot of pastas, risotto and roast chickens in my own home,I can assure you that they do it to a better standard and much more elegantly here (on pretty heart motif china). I’d argue that it’s probably better than whatever you’re cooking in your own home, too.

Snagging a reservation can be tricky — when I stayed, we didn’t sit down at our table until 9pm (anyone who knows will can confirm that I’m normally in bed by then) — so ask the hotel to make a booking for you when you confirm your room.

Breakfast — a highlight — is served in the Casa Tua restaurant, too; there’s a separate ‘Lounge’ (above), open all day, for daytime coffees, light lunches and late night martinis.

How they’ll keep you busy

The spa is The Surrey’s hidden gem — and though it's tiny it knows how to pack a punch where it matters.

As well as a fitness centre, two treatment rooms, a steam room, sauna, salt relaxation room and sensorial shower, there’s a wooden terrace that seemingly appears out of nowhere with a bird’s eye view of the handsome neighbourhood. In the warmer months, the hotel organises yoga classes on it — and there was talk of a smoothie bar.

What else to do while you’re here

The Surrey is less than ten minutes on foot from The Frick which reopened earlier this year, following an extensive programme of refurbishment works, to raptuous applause. Owen Holmes, our man on the ground in New York, described it as ‘momentousness’.

For more inspiration, take a look at our guide to Manhattan.

Who’s it for?

Couples.

What gives it the ‘wow’ factor?

The use of pattern and texture in the bedrooms. Martin has outdone himself.

The one thing we’d change

The art on display in the bedrooms and communal areas — there didn’t appear to be a strong curatorial direction.

Rooms from $1,200 (about £900) a night, excluding taxes and fees. Visit The Surrey website for more information and to book.

‘The Waldorf at 7’, I texted my romantic interest, advancing the arrangements for our drinks date. I’d recently moved to New York City, and to my mind, suggesting Manhattan’s grandest hotel for cocktails signalled refinement. We settled into its ‘Peacock Alley’ lounge, the Art Deco marvel that drew international high society for most of the 20th century. ‘Frank Sinatra had his birthday parties here’, I said. ‘Did I mention Grace Kelly?’

I had a vague hope one of the hotel’s rooms might be required that night; one wasn’t. But I’m glad to have seen the public spaces, if only to better appreciate the results of the nearly decade-long renovation that was to come.

Back at the reopened Waldorf Astoria on a recent evening, I see that Peacock Alley (above) has been reconfigured — the check-in desk moved out of it — and gloriously taken back to its 1931 aesthetics, based on archive research. The finishes dazzle — the walls panelled with maple burl, the fluted columns black marble. At the center of it all, achingly restored, is Queen Victoria’s over-the-top 1893 World’s Fair clock. Also: longtime resident Cole Porter’s piano.

The house martini now costs $35. It’s perfect.

Much like the recently unveiled renovation of another cultural landmark further uptown, The Frick Collection, the mind-boggling, multibillion-dollar Waldorf project was a matter of bringing the place back to its former glory — restoring untold amounts of metalwork, stonework, artwork — while making necessary concessions to modernity.

That former glory, as it happens, is best glimpsed in the hotel’s event spaces, chiefly the three-story, opera-inspired Grand Ballroom. With its curtained, silver-leafed balcony boxes, it was home to the early Met Galas and the first Tony Awards. Have your wedding here.

The guest rooms, meanwhile, have been thoroughly redesigned and modernised. Before its closing, the hotel, which takes up an entire block — Park to Lexington Avenues, 49th to 50th Streets — had 1,400 guest rooms. It now has 375 (plus 372 residences). As a result, the rooms feel positively expansive by Manhattan standards. The interiors, by Pierre-Yves Rochon, are all muted neutrals; this hotel has not gone all-in on the maximalist approach being embraced elsewhere across the hospitality landscape.

A Guerlain Wellness Spa will soon open — all 20,000 sq ft of it.

For dining, the hotel’s Park Avenue lobby is given over in the evenings to Yoshoku, a high-concept, kaiseki-ish affair. (I’d as soon have taken in the surrounding Louis Regal mosaic and murals, another focus of the restoration, during the day, and for dinner, had a burger at P.J. Clarke’s.) The signature restaurant, Lex Yard, is led by Michael Anthony, of Gramercy Tavern fame. You almost have to order the Waldorf salad; the fruit-and-nut curiosity was invented at the hotel. Lex Yard’s Waldorf plays up the key components of the original, with smart tweaks for modern tastes. Perhaps there’s a metaphor there.

Rooms at the Waldorf Astoria New York cost from about £1,100 a night. Visit the hotel’s website for more information and to book.

There have been private clubs in New York City for as long as there have been well-heeled and well-connected New Yorkers seeking separation from ordinary ones, which is to say, all along. Hallowed institutions, heavy on wood panelling and Chesterfield sofas, with names such as the Knickerbocker Club, the Racquet & Tennis Club, the Explorers Club, the Doubles Club. The occasion for my having visited the last in that list, a few years ago as a member’s guest, was a ‘Fish & Fowl’ night. The tweed and Tattersall dress code was an unveiled nod to a simpler time.

There is a new wave, however, of private members’ clubs taking over Manhattan and they do not have Fish & Fowl nights. What they do have are things such as interiors designed by Rose Uniacke or Ken Fulk, a ‘culinary concierge’ service, Taylor Swift, myriad other celebrities, stickers they put over your iPhone camera so that you cannot take photographs of Taylor and the other celebrities, hyperbaric oxygen chambers, IV drips and red-light therapy, an original Warhol hung behind a welcome desk and a policy dictating your martini be served at less than 4°C.

New York has gone private and, in so doing, has become more like London, where private clubs have continuously been integral to social life — the stratification a feature, not a bug. In fact, several of New York’s new clubs are descendants of London’s finest. A New York location of The Twenty Two has opened in Union Square. Maxime’s, on the Upper East Side, comes courtesy of Britain’s ‘King of Clubs’, Robin Birley, with backing by the Reuben Brothers. Next year, a New York iteration of Annabel’s will open—owned by Richard Caring and designed by Martin Brudnizki, in the Meatpacking District as in Mayfair.

Would you believe it’s all more expensive in the US? In New York, annual dues for the clubs start at about a few thousand dollars and reach into the tens of thousands — and initiation fees run up to a notorious $200,000 at Aman on Fifth Avenue. In London, the barrier to membership has always been more social — who you know on the inside — than financial, with prospective members sometimes waiting years merely to get on a waiting list. Connections are certainly helpful in New York, but a lack of social capital can often be made up for with enough capital-capital, a cultural difference that will shock no keen observer.

Why the boom? Post-pandemic, many professionals no longer go to an office, of course, and, as for nightlife, they’re less eager to sardine into a dance club. The new members’ clubs, taking advantage of the resulting glut of office space to site their sprawling complexes, have stepped in to offer New Yorkers a new way to connect, day or night.

Zachary Weiss, New Yorker and man-about-Instagram, sees the phenomenon through a hospitality lens: ‘I think the battle for a dinner or drinks reservation was the initial driver for this, in addition to the fact that you’re not guaranteed a great experience once you score this reservation. Restaurants in so many cities, but particularly New York, fell into this game of limiting reservations and gamifying the process of scoring one. I realise it helps them allocate inventory and such, but it also ensures that when you score this reservation, you are likely to spend more. The new clubs are the alleged antidote to that, as if to say: “You always have a home here.” ’

Warning: your home may be frequented by celebrities. They value the clubs’ strict no-photographs policies, because privacy is, after all, the ultimate luxury. More ordinary members also say they appreciate this discretion as they yearn for the days of being able to let loose without fear of their inhibitions landing on social media.

Soho Houses these new clubs are not (although with three locations currently in the City, that British import is doing just fine). Although many of New York’s new clubs do offer co-working and private meeting spaces (and infrared saunas and cold plunges), the emphasis among the new guard is on the food — historically an afterthought at private clubs — and the nightlife.

Here are five at the fore. Apply wisely.

ZZ’s

Location

Hudson Yards—25,000sq ft of it.

Atmosphere

‘Medici opulence’ is a phrase being used to describe this Ken Fulk-designed club — and not always disapprovingly. It is the latest from Major Food Group (MFG), the banal-sounding outfit behind the celebrity-favourite Greenwich Village red-sauce joint Carbone (which recently opened in London, inside the former American Embassy).

At ZZ’s, there’s a Japanese restaurant — its seafood flown in from Tokyo, Japan, daily — and a clam bar, as well as a cigar terrace and live-music venue. This is the place with the culinary concierge service — for founding members only — which with a little heads-up will create a bespoke feast of dishes from any or all of MFG’s restaurants or your favourite childhood meal — whatever that might say about you psychologically.

You should join if

You require uninterrupted access to the spicy rigatoni from Carbone — an elusive reservation for almost anyone.

Zero Bond

Location

NoHo, at 0, Bond Street (get it?).

Atmosphere

Outside: paparazzi; inside: Taylor, the Kardashians, Tom Brady, Dua Lipa and too many other celebrity guests to name, although perhaps the most devoted patron is New York City’s mayor Eric Adams, who can’t seem to stay out of the place.

Its founder is Scott Sartiano, whose 1Oak defined City nightlife in the 2010s. You’ve seen inside, actually — in the finale of Succession, with Kieran Culkin’s character sipping a martini at one of the bars.

You should join if

You’re just out of a meeting with other city power brokers frantically discussing how to stop Democratic-socialist Zohran Mamdani from becoming mayor in November.

San Vicente

Location

The edge of the West Village, where it meets the Westside Highway.

Atmosphere

San Vicente is the East Coast outpost of Los Angeles’s San Vicente Bungalows, whose members are board-vetted and rumoured to include the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.

When I was invited to the New York location as a guest earlier this summer, the place didn’t really have a location on Google Maps; it looked as if I was being directed to the adjacent Jane Hotel.

Upon arrival, stickers were stuck over my phone’s front and back camera lenses. Actors were indeed spotted on the ginkgo-tree-lined roof deck, although I would not have photographed them. Obviously. Serenely designed by London-based Rose Uniacke, San Vicente is less glitzy than the other clubs, perhaps making it the club for Never-Clubbers.

You should join if

You secretly want to live in Los Angeles.

Casa Cipriani

Location

Financial District, in a 115-year-old ferry terminal.

Atmosphere

Casa Cipriani, located in the landmarked Battery Maritime building, with its Beaux-Arts façade of stamped zinc and copper, is one of the older new clubs, having opened in 2021.

As for the people inside, on one end of the spectrum there’s Andrew Tate, who stayed earlier this year (and posted a video from his room, against rules), and, on the sunnier end, current New York City media darling Emily Sundberg, who works out of the ‘Chip’ several days a week.

Interestingly, the annual dues here represent the lower end of the scale for the new clubs: $3,900 annually or $2,500 for those aged under 30.

You should join if

You prefer your cashmere to be Loro Piana, which is what some of the walls are reportedly lined with.

Chez Margaux

Location

Meatpacking District, near the Whitney and High Line.

Atmosphere

Chez Margauz is proof that the new crop of clubs is all about the dining and nightlife vs laptop time. This one — arguably the hippest of the lot — houses a Jean-Georges restaurant, but the place really comes alive at 11pm, when its caviar-and-cocktails bar transforms into a nightclub called Gaux Gaux.

Design-wise, think acres-of-velvet Parisian boudoir; Jacques Garcia at his sultriest. Rest assured the monkey-print wallcovering has not been skimped on, for it is de Gournay.

You should join if

You are Zoë Kravitz. Or Leonardo DiCaprio.

A decade of planning. Five years of heavy work. $220 million spent. The Frick Collection’s recently completed ‘renovation and enhancement project’ is the most comprehensive refresh in its 90-year history, and it’s being unveiled to the public this month. As Country Life’s New York correspondent, I’ve been given a preview, and can say that well-enough has been left alone, and, well, not well-enough has been made right. Spectacularly so.

To grasp the momentousness of the reopening, one must understand the place The Frick holds in the hearts of New Yorkers, and, indeed, art-lovers around the world. The Frick is based in an Upper East Side Gilded Age mansion, built for industrialist Henry Clay Frick in 1914; in 1935, it opened as a museum for his family’s art holdings, which comprise one of the great private collections of Old Masters and decorative arts. So while The Frick is clearly among America’s premier art institutions, its compact size and the fact that you’re essentially in someone’s house makes it feel like you’re in on a secret. Further up Fifth Avenue, The Met dazzles with its sheer scale; you will never get through it all, no matter how many visits. The Frick, meanwhile, is of an afternoon. You pop in to see a special exhibit of European works on paper, to check in on Bellini’s St. Francis in the Desert. You take your in-laws when they’re in town. In short, it’s a gem, and that gem has been polished.

Call me a Frick partisan; I have visited often. Bury me between the two monumental Turners hung opposite each other in the West Gallery, the luminescent portscapes Dieppe and Cologne. I’ve been to The Frick on dates (‘Want to see a Meissen porcelain exhibit?’ being a good filter). I’ve paid visits specifically to a piece of its furniture, the Jean-Henri Riesener commode in the South Hall, for a paper I wrote on it in interior design school. During the pandemic, I held to its ‘Cocktails with a Curator’ series as a cultural lifeline in the otherwise artless bleakness. I went more than once to see the collection when it was moved, during the renovation, to the Breuer-designed former Whitney building on Madison Avenue; viewing the Gainsboroughs, Titians and Whistlers against the cold Brutalist walls was revelatory.

At the new Frick, some things are different — thrillingly so. But first, what’s the same. Think of the moments in The Frick you know and love — standing between those Turners, or staring up at the terracotta Diana the Huntress in the Portico Gallery — and rest assured they remain the same. (Just-retired director Ian Wardropper says you might even wonder, Well, what did they change?) That’s not to say those parts of the museum haven’t been improved — in fact virtually nothing in them has been left untouched. The silk wall hangings have been replaced, the ceiling carvings meticulously restored. (Less glamorously, the heating and cooling, lighting and electrical systems updated.) The number of best-in-their-field artisans, craftspeople, designers and engineers involved in the effort boggles the mind; see the excellent Renovation Stories for a look at how, say, the museum had its passementerie recreated by the same French firm that produced the originals over a century ago.

But enough about the renovating piece of the project; onto the enhancing. Here are three major upgrades to look forward to during your next visit:

You can now access the upper floor

The Frick family’s former private rooms on the (American) second floor have been converted to galleries for smaller-scale paintings, sculptures and objects that previously would have been shown in the larger rooms on the main floor — the scale of the smaller upstairs rooms is more sympathetic — or not shown at all.

When limited to the main floor, you lacked a complete sense of how the house functioned; rather, you stood at the foot of the original Grand Staircase, behind a velvet rope, wondering what was up there. (Staff offices.) Now, ascend to see the Breakfast Room hung as it was for the family, with the contemporary Barbizon landscapes Frick collected before he moved onto Old Masters.

In Frick’s walnut-panelled bedroom, George Romney’s Lady Hamilton, which had been on display downstairs, is back over the mantel; the picture is presumed to be the last artwork Frick viewed, having died in bed across from it. The bedroom of Frick’s daughter, Helen Clay Frick, features Renaissance gold-ground panels, a testament to her role in shaping the family’s collection. The Boucher Room (above), named for its painted panels and filled with 18th century French furniture, has been moved from its prior location on the main floor back to its original setting upstairs. The Impressionist Room shows works by Manet, Monet and Degas, while other rooms are given over to French faience, Du Paquier porcelain, rare portrait medals, and important clocks and watches.

The result of the expansion? The number of works on view has doubled.

Special exhibition spaces on the main floor

In addition to its permanent holdings, The Frick is prized for its tightly focused, intellectually rigorous special exhibitions. Now there’s a dedicated space for them. (Before, the museum had to put away pieces from its collection to make room for the temporary hang — not ideal.)

Inaugurating the new suite of galleries is the three-work exhibit Vermeer’s Love Letters, opening in June, which explores Vermeer’s treatment of the theme of letters and his depiction of women of different social classes.

Additionally, the intimate Cabinet Gallery has been newly dedicated to special shows. Coinciding with the reopening is Highlights of Drawings, featuring Degas, Goya and Rubens. In the autumn, there’s work by the contemporary British painter Flora Yukhnovich, who’s creating site-specific murals inspired by The Frick’s Boucher masterpiece Four Seasons.

New amenities dazzle

The showstopping moment of the reopening comes early in your visit: Step in from East 70th Street into a greatly expanded Entrance Hall (above) that’s now airy and bright, positively Milanese in its sleekness. At the preview, many a finger was pointed and jaw dropped at the new cantilevered stairway in the back, all brass and glass and Breccia Aurora marble. The new amenities collectively speak to The Frick’s commitment to go on showing its collection for another 90 years, and to playing a revitalised role in New York cultural life more broadly.

There’s a bright new conservation room, and The Frick now has its first education centre. A new auditorium (above) has been built underground, which required digging up the 70th Street Garden (designed by Russell Page in 1977) and replanting it. With seating for 220, the circular, white-walled auditorium is another modern counterpoint to the robber-baron chic of the main galleries.

A Spring Music Festival kicks off the reopening and includes the world premiere of a work by Nico Muhly, performed by the Jupiter Ensemble and current alt-opera darling Anthony Roth Costanzo.

The highly regarded Frick Art Research Library has been connected to the museum via passageway — before you had to walk around the block to get to it, if you even knew it was there. On the exterior, the construction allowing for this and other additions has been clad with the same Indiana limestone, in the same block pattern, as the original Beaux-Arts buildings, highlighting the renovation’s painstaking historical sensitivity. The project was designed by Selldorf Architects (who at the National Gallery, London, has been leading the renovation of the Sainsbury Wing), with Beyer Blinder Belle as executive architect.

And finally, The Frick now has what it perhaps was most sorely missing: a café.

The Frick Collection reopens to the public on April 17, 2025. Visit the website for more information.

New York is a ‘a beautiful city’, according to my friend Ellen, who has lived in the Big Apple for a few years.

Truth be told, I found New York too big, brash and bold when I first visited eight years ago. The grid-like streets can be oddly tricky to navigate — when does East 77th Street become West 77th Street? — I once got stuck trying to exit the subway for a good 15 minutes, and its hulking, brown and grey edifices of buildings have a tendency to loom overhead, somewhat menacingly.

But New York has some kind of gravitational pull over me — and plenty of other people. It was determined to get me to like it. And so I returned. Time and time again. I came to appreciate that it isn’t big at all. Skyscrapers aside, it is in fact very walkable. It’s not brash, it’s confident; it’s not overly bold, it’s the epicentre of ideas, entertainment and getting stuff done.

And then there are the bagels…

You just have to know where to look and how to get around. Which you can now do with our handy guide.

(For the purposes of brevity, this guide focuses solely on Manhattan — just one of New York's five boroughs.)

Where to stay

The Surrey, A Corinthia Hotel, Upper East Side

When The Surrey hotel reopened under the Corinthia umbrella, there was an air of confusion over its choice of interior designer. Martin Brudnizki, lauded for his use of colour, texture and pattern — normally all in one go — didn’t seem like a natural fit for a hotel group that tended to skew towards the beige end of the paint chart. The result is stupendous: richly decorated bedrooms, in delectable shades of lemon, vanilla and honey, that seemingly invite you to touch everything. Think raspy boucle and silk seagrass wallpapers, smooth-as-butter leather drawer liners and reeded-glass light fittings.

There’s an outpost of Casa Tua on the ground floor (the popular American chain regularly has people tearing their hair out over a reservation) and a bijou, but sensational spa featuring excellent Sisley treatments, an outdoor yoga deck and my new favourite hotel amenity, a salt room.

The Manner, SoHo

When The Manner opened last year, on a quiet and rare, tree-lined SoHo street, it did so in a riot of colour. Think ochre, emerald green and lapis lazuli in the 97 rooms and suites — and dramatic crimson red in the Duplex Penthouse, the design of which was inspired by American fashion designer Halton’s Olympic Tower offices. The colour scheme is so all consuming — like being cocooned inside a richly decorated jewellery box — that I didn’t step out onto my Juliet balcony until the second day, only to discover One World Trade Center to my left and the Empire State Building to my right.

The hotel’s name refers to the ‘manner’ of hospitality that executive chairman Amar Lalvani favours on his own travels, so there’s also The Apartment, a guests-only living space that’s open 24 hours a day. You can eat breakfast here, read the papers, work or welcome friends for an aperitivo and snack. It’s splendidly clever, seemingly so obvious and a world away from your identikit hotel lobby.

Click here to read our full review of The Manner

The Mark, Upper East Side

The Mark, a single block away from Central Park, is all old-school glamour with bags of personality.

It starts at the front desk — in the rather impressive, Art Deco-inspired, monochrome marble lobby — which is manned by genuinely friendly, rather than fawning, staff. The 141 rooms and suites, including The Mark Penthouse, are more understated than the communal areas, a calming cocoon to retreat to after a busy day in New York's busiest borough.

There are two restaurants, The Mark Restaurant By Jean-Georges, which is as sophisticated as it sounds, and Caviar Kaspia at The Mark, New York's version of the Paris institution (there's something undeniably French about the bowl of branded cigarette lighters at the front desk).

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the key ingredient used here is...caviar. And it's on everything from blinis and jacket potatoes, to tuna tartare.

Fun touches include the branded stationery and toiletries, the Assouline book shop on the ground floor (or first floor in the US) and wonderful Mark 'Haute Dog Cart' that's open daily, weather permitting. Think gourmet, organic chicken and grass-fed beef hot dogs, exclusive to guests of the hotel and neighbourhood friends.

Click here to read our full review of The Mark

Fouquet’s New York, Tribeca

Hotel Barrière Fouquet’s opened in 2023, but native New Yorkers in-the-know already congregate around the speakeasy-style bar.

It’s on a cobbled street in Tribeca, but feels decidedly French: from the Cannes-inspired cinema room and subterranean spa that echoes the chain’s St Barths property, to the greetings of ‘Bonjour’ by beret-wearing staff in the restaurant (which they pull off with aplomb, by the way).

The man behind the interiors isn’t French at all, but Swedish-born and London-based designer-of-the-moment Martin Brudnizki.

The rooms are all slightly different: pastel-pink walls and a pistachio sofa in one; a French navy roll-top bath in a second; custom wallpaper covered in sketches of popular Manhattan and Parisian landmarks in a third.

The Fifth Avenue Hotel, NoMad

Fifth Avenue is another one of Martin's masterpieces — this one inspired by the city's Gilded Age mansions (of which Fifth Avenue was originally one) and current owner Alex Ohebshalom's global travels.

It's a riot of colour, pattern, texture and art. In fact there's more art than there are walls.

The five-story limestone and brick building was once owned by socialite Charlotte Goodridge. My favourite rooms — the corner suites — are in this part of the hotel. Triple-paned glass ensures a good night's sleep. But it would be remiss to overlook the other rooms, in a newly-built glass tower that punches high into the sky on the footprint of the mansion's carriage house.

Somewhere in between the Goodridge and Ohebshalom eras, Fifth Avenue was used as an office space and bank. That bank is now Café Carmellini (above), a theatrical-style space with Michelin-worthy food. The space is dominated by two trees in the middle of the room. If you can, book one of the opera box-style tables on the restaurant's upper level.

The Ludlow, Lower East Side

Situated in the former tenement district of the Lower East Side, The Ludlow is our top pick if you want to experience some of New York’s characteristic gritty glamour.

Its proximity to Williamsburg Bridge, music venues and independent shops and restaurants should delight families travelling with even the most hard-to-impress teenager.

The rooms — some of which are, admittedly, pint-sized — have factory casement-style windows, quirky vintage furniture and photo album-worthy bathrooms — think muted mosaic floors, brass fittings and bare bulb vanity light bars.

Go for the ‘Ludlow Double Loft’ or ‘Penthouse’ rooms if you’re travelling with children, are in a group, or just want more space.

The Greenwich, Greenwich Village

There are more than 75,000 hotels rooms in New York City, but my favourites can be found at The Greenwich Hotel in Tribeca. A red, hand-moulded brick building on a cobbled and green (by New York’s standards) street, décor is understated, slightly masculine in that clubby kind of way, and overwhelmingly comfortable. It’s also just very cool.

The rooms vary in size — the ‘Superior’ rooms are good value for a five-star hotel and come with a complimentary snack basket that quite frankly is worth a stay alone. I’ve discovered most of my favourite American snacks at The Greenwich, including the now hallowed — in my mind at least — Junior Mints.

The ensuite bathrooms are all Carrara marble and Moroccan tiles, and it would be criminal of me not to mention the deep bathtubs which fill up in 60 seconds. Not a joke or an exaggeration because I duly timed it.

There’s a very swish gym and spa, which I usually forgo for more time at Locanda Verde. Order the casarecce pasta and lemon tart, or live to regret it.

The Lowell, Upper East Side

Uptown, you’ll find The Lowell — that bastion of old-school American manners and restrained elegance.

Can any other hotel in Manhattan claim to have so many working fireplaces? (Spoiler: there are 33 spread across various rooms and suites and the impeccable staff are always on hand to help you light one.)

If The Lowell had an official song, it would be Frank Sinatra’s Theme from New York, New York.

Guests — three-quarters of whom are repeat visitors, which tells you everything you need to know — have exclusive access to the ground floor Club Room, 10am–5pm.

Assouline was invited to curate the enviable selection of weighty tomes that line the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

There’s also Jacques Bar and Majorelle restaurant (if you can’t quite make room for pudding, ask for a box of freshly baked, still-warm madeleines to take up to bed).

The Carlyle, Upper East Side 

Designed by Dorothy Draper and stayed in by Kennedys, royalty and Michael Jackson, The Carlyle is a New York institution that cannot be bettered.

In 1960, the Kennedys took up residence in a specially converted suite a few floors beneath a campanile modelled on the bell tower of Westminster Cathedral. The hotel became known as the New York White House and the stardust started falling thicker and faster than ever.

One of the things that contributes to The Carlyle’s unique atmosphere is the way it’s run as both a hotel and a cooperative with privately owned apartments. First-timers often comment on how homely it feels — oddly, considering its fancy reputation.

There was widespread consternation when Rosewood, The Carlyle’s owners since 2001, announced a sweeping refurbishment of a large proportion of the hotel’s rooms in 2018.

This turned out much better than many (myself included) feared it might. The Greek key patterns in the carpet are an elegant tribute to Dorothy Draper; the extra Bemelmens panels are fantastic.

And in any case a small but significant number of old, unreconstructed. Ask for 2108.

Click here to read our full review of The Carlyle

Where to eat

Emmett’s on Grove, Greenwich Village

No trip to New York is complete without a slice — or two — of pizza. Although this pizza is tavern-style, rather than Italian.

Tavern-style pizza — by way of Chicago, alongside deep-dish — has a thin crust and is sliced into small squares. It emerged in the 1930s, in the Midwest, in taverns who served it for free in an attempt to keep customers on their seats and buying drinks for longer.

Soothr Thai Noodle Bar, East Village

Soothr, pronounced ‘sood’, is the Thai word for ‘recipe’. And the menu is packed with a myriad family and traditional recipes — all expertly seasoned and flavourful.

The inside is small and quaint and fills up first — so don’t dally.

The Odeon, Tribeca 

The Odeon is so synonymous with good, classic food and drinks — steak tartare, martinis and multi-storey burgers — that it’s rumoured to be behind media company Condé Nast’s decision to relocate offices to the nearby One World Trade Centre.

Shmoné, Greenwich Village

The concept kitchen at Shmoné turns out beautifully innovative plates of neo-Levantine food, but it’s tricky to recommend a singular one because few appear on the menu more than once.

Just go. You won’t regret it.

Minetta Tavern, Washington Park/Greenwich Village

Minetta Tavern was frequented by the likes of Ernest Hemingway and Dylan Thomas before it reopened in 2009 at the hands of the headline-making restaurateur Keith McNally.

The checkerboard tiled floor, red banquette seating and caricature-lined walls are complemented by French bistro-style food including the very necessary filet mignon.

Cervo’s, Lower East Side

A must if you’re into your seafood — Cervo’s is continually inspired by the coastal towns and traditions of Spain and Portugal.

Regardless of where you sit — inside, at the bar or outside — it’s tightly packed (which feels more New York than the Iberian Peninsula) so go with a cool demeanour...and a pair of sharp elbows for making sure you’re first in your group to the sharing plates.

Atla, NoHo

This everyday Mexican has a sister restaurant in California.

The monochrome-tiled space spills out onto the pavement in warmer months. Order the ‘mushrooms en salsa verde’ which comes with corn tortillas and a lobster burrito. Don’t miss the mezcal menu along the way.

Russ & Daughters, multiple locations

There’s no shortage of good bagels in Manhattan, but Russ & Daughters is probably the best-known supplier of the lot.

Don’t over complicate things — just order a classic open-faced sandwich comprising smoked salmon and cream cheese. Tomato, onion and capers come as standard.

Via Carota, West Village

Low-lit Via Carota looks like your humble neighbourhood restaurant, but reservations can be tricky to come by.

Assuming you're lucky enough to score one, don't skip the well-crafted cocktails and classic pastas.

Dante, multiple locations

Dante is arguably one of New York's best bars — in fact it's won multiple Best Bar awards — and a fail-safe spot for a great martini. It also serves Italian-inspired small plates and sizeable hunks of carrot cake — with a generous side helping of great service.

What to do

Art

New York has no shortage of great museums: my favourites include The Whitney — a pantheon to American art, in the Meatpacking District — and The Frick — which recently reopened on the Upper East Side, following extensive renovations.

The High Line

If you do find yourself at The Whitney, follow it up with a walk north along The High Line, a 1.5 mile elevated linear park, created on the former New York Central Railroad spur.

It offers filmic views down parallel-running streets and excellent house- and apartment-spotting opportunities.

Viewing platforms

Towards the northern end of The High Line, you’ll find the newly opened Hudson Yards development, featuring plenty of shops and Edge NYC, the highest outdoor sky deck in the Western Hemisphere.

New York isn’t short of high, high up viewing platforms. SUMMIT One Vanderbilt, in Midtown (above in blue), is also now open. Its 360-degree view of Manhattan and beyond is staggering — all of the city’s skyscrapers laid out in front of you, 91 floors up, soaring skywards in a sort of vertical arms race.

Find some green space

As well as 843-acre Central Park — the most visited urban park in the US — there’s Little Island at Pier 55, an artificial island and public park suspended on stilts above the Hudson River.

As well as the cleverly-planted, ever changing beds, there’s a roster of dance, music and theatre productions that are staged on the island’s own amphitheatre.

Go shopping

New York has all the usual suspects that you can find in any major city, but special highlights include: Canal Street (the road has a reputation for being a designer fake hotspot, but the 'proper' shops make it well worth a visit), Elyse Walker, Nili Lotan and 180 the Store boutiques in Tribeca, jeweller Lizzie Fortunato and La Ligne (for stripe jumpers).

How to get there

If you’re flying to New York, Blade can chopper you from JFK or Newark into Manhattan from a very reasonable $195.

Click here for more of our top travel tips for making your journey better.