Hilton Punished By Fashion Police

I have a question that keeps me up at night.

With boutique hotels now going mainstream, what will the new boutique be? Will there be a new word for a small, independent, one-off design hotel?

Dash's line from Disney's Incredibles comes to mind: "If everybody's special, then no one really is."

I read in the Wall Street Journal this afternoon that Hilton paid an undisclosed amount to Starwood Hotels & Resorts for stealing super secret information about W Hotels, Starwood's boutique-chic brand. What is surprising is that  the court ordered Hilton to suspend planning, development and launch of its own boutique brand for the next two years. Sure, W's are great, but what proprietary information could Hilton have gleaned that is not open to anyone spending the night in a W?:

Hilton Worldwide Inc will be banned for two years from creating a luxury "lifestyle" hotel chain under an agreement to settle a corporate-espionage lawsuit. the settlement stems from a suit filed last year by rival Starwood Hotels & Resorts Worldwide, which accused Hilton officials of stealing confidential Starwood documents to develop a new boutique-style chain that would appeal to modern tastes.

Boutique is big biz; getting bigger all the time. It's a magic formula, really. Guests pay more money to romp about in verifiable cleanliness and style. And it's just not Helvetica lovers and "The Gays" any more. Who would have guessed that boutiques were on to something with those crisp white duvet covers and hard surfaces?

Starwood was the first mega chain to launch a mass-market boutique with its W brand back in 1998. It took Marriott until 2010 to come up with a comparable product in its Edition brand (pictured above), and  I suppose Andaz is Hyatt's brassy response to mass-boutique.

With all this boutique design vernacular open to the public, why punish Hilton? They are already the loser among the big chains for being so late to develop their own.

As I see it, the real loser here is Starwood Hotels & Resorts. They seem afraid; very, very afraid. They must be out of innovative ideas. Time to buy Hilton.

Betwixt the both of them an inferiority complex is brewing

Rachel: Asian, young, pencil skirt. Polished, but not excessively.

"We are about to make the transition from carpet to black marble." Her heals begin clomping. "Are you a golfer? Because you're wearing a golf shirt, you know."

We leave the low-pile carpet of the Hilton Bonnet Creek, and enter the gleaming floors of the Waldorf Astoria Orlando. Waldorf is Hilton's luxury brand.

The two hotels are connected.

The idea is that for a meeting of about 2,000, a planner could buy-out the Hilton's 1,000 rooms, and book 200 or so at the Waldorf Astoria for VIPs, executives and discerning travelers. Delegates are able to meet in ballrooms located between the two properties without fully committing to either side. 

We move into the lobby lounge, with iridescent peacock patterned carpet, and look out the window onto the pool deck.

"Guests are welcome to use either pool. But we find that parents and families are drawn to the Hilton's water slide and lazy river. So, really, why walk all the way over here?" 

In the soft-toned Presidential Suite 16 floors up: 

"The princess of Saudi Arabia was here just a few weeks ago. She used this whole room just for her jewelry. . ."

We examine the posh master bedroom, and continue into the bathroom. The shower is bigger than my kitchen.  

Back in the living room, after pointing out the flat panel TV that retracts into a cabinet so as not to obstruct the view of the golf course and freeway beyond, the subject returns to the Saudi princess.

". . .She would be the queen of Saudi Arabia, but she is the fourth wife. So she's just a princess.  The King of Saudi Arabia is 70 or something. She is only 23. I don't care what country you're from. That's just gross!"

We finish the tour by swinging by the chrome and marbled Guerlain Spa, pausing at a wall displaying photos of Ella Fitzgerald singing in the Waldorf in NYC (Where Rachel held her bachelorette party), and stopping in front of a tall clock under the guilt dome of the main lobby. It was exactly 4:00 p.m. 

The clock chimed. 

Rachel's cell phone buzzes for what must have be the tenth time. "The chime is an exact replica of the clock found in the original Waldorf Astoria. Ever heard the phrase, 'I'll meet you at the clock?' Well, that's where it came from." 

"So is the clock an exact replica?" 

"Um, not quite. But it is a modern version of the original."

We exchange cards. Rachel arranges for a driver to take me back to the Gaylord Palms. 

The Waldorf is an accessorized satellite shrine to the temple back in NYC. The Hilton, if nothing else, is new.

They are both very close to Disney World. 

The Grand Tatas Resort & Spa

The Grand Wailea Resort is a veritable maison d'exposition of bronze, onyx and wooden breasts. One contact told me the collection of Botero bosoms alone is worth 350 million. Impressive figures, but rather at odds with the resort's placement as a first tier family and meeting destination.

"What's that you say Junior!? Those are called 'breasts', not 'boobies'. And that, my son, is a 'vagina'. "

Not to miss at this property, however, is the spa. Enormous doesn't quite describe it. They have steam rooms, saunas, Hawaiian salt aromatherapy baths, hot and cold soaking tubs, waterfall cure-what-ails-ya treatment and "Swiss Showers" that pin prick you with water from all directions. The staff will even rub Maui sugar on your back and give you treatment sequence suggestions all while being comfortably chatty.

Perhaps the corpulent nude statuary is intended to lure clients into the spa where they are able to discretely throw off all their clothing for a luxurious soak. And if that is the case, well done Grand Wailea! I went twice.