Suddenly Last Summer

The vintage hits from my InTandem Magazine blog just keep on coming. Posting from August 8, 2009 after having stayed at the Andaz and then had brunch at SLS' Bazaar:

Driving down Pico towards the Sunset Strip in my husband’s grandfather’s (aka Pop Bergman) 1984 Chrysler La Baron, I finally felt relaxed. Sure, the car was on its last legs and we were forced to completely avoid any freeway since the blinkers were shot, but who cares–we’re out of New York for a month. To recycle Angela Chase’s take on High School to sum up New York City, living in the city that never sleeps can feel like a “battlefield for your heart.” But L.A is cool and in our fucked-up hoopie, I didn’t give a shit about anything.

So when we turned into the valet stand at the Andaz Hotel in West Hollywood, giving the parking guy the keys to our ride, oblivious to the contrast of our decrepit lemon against the beautiful bevy of Ferraris, Mercedes and Ducatis, we immediately fell right at home. For despite the fact that L.A is all about flash (on the road, we spotted a motorcyclist rocking an impeccably tailored Zegna suit, channeling an international playboy), it’s also about irony. So for a town jam packed with flash-tastic pomp and circumstance, L.A. is stuffed to the gills with implied discrepancies–and the Andaz Hotel perfectly captures the spirit of hollyweird in spades.

Located on Sunset Blvd, there are no check-in desks in sight, just a couple of trendsters standing in front of a large communal table, typing into laptops as if they are at the MAC store checking e-mail. I asked an attractive actress-type where the check-in desk was.

Attractive actress-type: “It’s right here.”

Turns out she worked there. She took her cell out from her black clutch (apparently all part of the uniform) and called Oscar who assisted us with our stay.

Andaz is a modern art enthusiast’s wet dream. After Oscar personally escorted us to our rooms (they are all about personal service there), he invited us to enjoy complementary wine in the front lobby that’s open to everyone visiting the hotel. (In the morning, there’s free coffee, pastries and clementines.) While sipping on Pinot Noir, flipping through coffee table books on L.A architecture, my eyes settled on the super sleek lighting fixtures and art installations adorning the front room. We then wandered upstairs to 2nd floor lounge where we found sculptures from a local high school juxtaposed against art pieces that I couldn’t identify but thought were fucking awesome.

Once upon a time, Andaz was the Continental Hyatt, preferred accommodations for 70’s rock stars and their groupies a la “Almost Famous.” The hotel was soon dubbed “Riot House” on account of the wild antics carried out by the rockers staying there.

Now, the balconies overlooking the Strip where people like Jimmy Page and Jim Morrison used to disrespect woman and snort coke, have been converted into luxurious “sun rooms”, extra spaces providing in each street side guest quarter where people can see or be seen as they attempt to light their nights on fire.

In short, the Andaz in West Hollywood is a reminder to those that can truly appreciate L.A. for it’s accommodating nature. The staff is welcoming, the hotel bar and restaurant called Riot Hyatt is well-stocked and serves up delicious appetizers and desserts if you are not looking to spend the night but love to chill in hotels just as much as I do.