Costes, Paris’ legendary hive of wealth and hip, has landed in London. What do we do with this haute monde paradise, just opposite Peter Jones, a bastion of sensible Britishness and the very opposite of chic?
Cadogan Estates announced its partnership with legendary hotelier Jean-Louis Costes in 2015. I must admit that I was still pale from the trauma of my first and only visit to the Rue Saint-Honoré hotel.
The year was 1996. I was in town to compile a hotel guide and was very used to the composure of impossibly chic Parisian receptionists. But nothing prepared me for Costes.
I rang the bell. The door was opened by a gorgeous receptionist who wore little more than a diamond stud in her belly button. His utter disdain for the Peter Jones Woman on his doorstep left me permanently scarred, but luckily the interior of Jacques Garcia’s opium Oscar Wilde was so dark that no one really noticed me.
Let’s fast forward to 2023. The collaboration with Costes eventually came to fruition on the six-storey (new at the top) fin de siecle former mansion block on the corner of Sloane Gardens. I can’t understand why the new hotel has been given such a boring name (originally called One Sloane, now renamed At Sloane); I guess it has something to do with wanting to be mysterious. M. Costes continues to be closely involved in the issue but prefers to remain in the background.
If my world has a center, it’s Sloane Square. I grew up in a street just behind Peter Jones (or Mothership as we geeks know it), where my father was a director. This is my neighborhood, a neighborhood that I have seen evolve from a boho and artist neighborhood in the 1960s, to the heart of the Swinging 60s, to the days when the Sloane Rangers ruled in the 1980s. It ends with Bond Street, where Tiffany, Cartier and Balenciaga stand shoulder to shoulder. Absolutely nothing could go wrong at the Costes hotel this time.
“You can’t come in,” the handsome (naturally) hotel doorman said to my adult son, who joined me for dinner. “We have a dress code here: Parisian chic.”
Have you ever been prosecuted and banned? What about on your own patch? It’s a terrible feeling. This said to my son, who is on the spectrum and only wears certain clothes, in this case a black sweatsuit, “You’re not good enough for us, so get out of here.” I explained this to the gracious staff (no bare belly) as all my Costes traumas came back. They were kind; We were there too, but it wasn’t a very good start.
For those stylish enough to gain entry, what will you find behind the red brick façade from 1889? Rarely have I found a hotel so elegantly designed, with such attention to detail, from the 21 specially ordered carpet patterns to the curated music, home perfume and “Love” button to dim the lights next to your bed. It is the work of the aesthete and art collector François-Joseph Graf, who worked as a decorator mostly for private clients and whose range of bags was as jeweled as his interiors.
The walls of the spiral staircase are adorned with black-and-white photographs of famous couples (and there’s one in each of the 30 rooms: Bogart and Bacall looked down on me). There are leaded and stained glass windows custom-made in Chartres, along with antiques, ornate finishes, lacquered surfaces, beautiful books, Benson lights, and furniture reminiscent of Mackintosh and Godwin.
On the ground floor, a long, beautifully appointed table dominates the neo-Greek lobby. This content was supposed to be shared by guests on their laptops with staff, but I felt awkward lingering there. The sensual, hedonistic basement bar, where waiters wear long black backless dresses, has already become a sensuous destination for London’s socialites.
The bedrooms, with off-white panels on the walls, are packed with details and arranged like miniature apartments with fake doors that appear to lead to another room. My Chambre Sloane (£1,500 a night) had an entrance lobby, dressing room, desk, sofa, armchairs and that beautiful Art Nouveau bathroom from Claridges – now gone. It was a simple and interesting place, but it looked messy and smaller than it was.
Most notable is the top-floor restaurant inspired by artist Whistler’s 1876 Peacock Room. Don’t wave your arms around here: Japonisme-style shelves are filled with more than 500 precisely positioned vases. Our modern French food was excellent, with French wines and charming service..
It is impossible not to admire At Sloane, and among London hotels it is possible to be grateful for her beauty, uniqueness and different personality, but her meticulousness, which deviates from ostentation, was not for me, and especially not “Costes”. After breakfast I walked home to the Mother Ship.
Fundamentals
The Sloane (020 3750 0750; onesloane.co.uk) offers double rooms from £600, room only.