The Fitzgerald
A corner suite for people who quote the books they haven’t finished. Champagne coupes arrive in a pyramid, unbidden, at six.
MDCCCCXXVIII · Corner of Fifth & Vermouth
Twenty-two storeys of brass and velvet above the avenue, built the year the market still believed in itself. The lift runs on time. The orchestra tunes at eight. No one has ever been asked to leave before dawn.
Ring the LiftFloor 2 · Accommodations
Three addresses upstairs, each with its own temperament. Ring twice for ice.
A corner suite for people who quote the books they haven’t finished. Champagne coupes arrive in a pyramid, unbidden, at six.
For the perpetually departing. A brass sextant on the writing desk, a wardrobe built for steamer trunks, and a view aimed due east.
The penthouse corner where the sun arrives first. Curtains open themselves at seven; the staff have learned not to ask why.
Floor 3 · After Eight O’Clock
Eleven hundred crystal drops, hand-strung, and not one of them has fallen since the night the market did. The band plays until somebody wealthier than the band asks them to stop.
The chandelier has outlasted four owners, two wars, and one very determined game of indoor croquet.
Floor P · Dinner is Served at Eight
The kitchen keeps its own counsel. The following is merely what we suggest you want.