Eloise, the fictional little girl lucky enough to have the Plaza Hotel as her playground, always fascinated me, a real little girl who dwelled in an ordinary suburban home. Walking into the luxe new Dior Suite, on the 12th floor of that other fabled Fifth Avenue property, the St. Regis, was a collision with my childhood fantasies of fashionable rooms decked out with brandy decanters and fireplaces.
Like Dior’s Paris ateliers, the elegant 1,700-square-foot suite is awash in ‘whispering’ gray. Throughout the space there are subtle nods to haute couture: Dior’s signature bows adorning wall sconces in the entryway, a dining room chair with a back of ruffled roses that look as if they were plucked from an evening gown,Lady Dior’s iconic cannage pattern atop the TV media unit, and a painting by Bil
Donovan that shows off silhouetted women donning Dior designs.
The dining room, with an old-fashioned map of Paris on the wall, had me plotting an imaginary dinner party, and I would never tire of falling asleep in the bedroom, silky and velvety with an exquisite mirror above the headboard.
Despite its grandeur, what struck me most about the space was how homey it felt, like a refined abode that could be the reality for many a neighboring socialite. Sadly, since staying at the Dior Suite means shelling out $8,500, not mine for even a night. — Alia Akkam