You know when you enter a space and your spine gets a tad straighter, your walk more refined? The Roosevelt New Orleans – this would be the spot. Pure Grandeur. And a perfect place in which to access your mojo. So to speak. The lobby (opened in 1893) reminded me of the original Waldorf Astoria in New York City, with high ceilings, filigree detail and elaborate columns (The Roosevelt is now part of the Waldorf Astoria Collection). Brass elevators, a gracious front desk, and a shoe shine man.
The pool area was a huge highlight and any Urban Daddy should check it out. With a bar at one end, private cabanas, plush towels and a great vibe, you may forget that you’re not in Vegas. But there were children laughing and playing in the warm, clean water as well as beautiful people from our own generation. (Not that we were looking). We were also huge fans of the enormous carafes of lemon water on either side of the bar. After all, in NOLA, it’s good to stay hydrated.
The Roosevelt exudes masculinity. The luxurious toiletries, for instance, are orange, green and chocolate brown and smell of musk and spice. The men feel the strength of allowing themselves to just Be. (And the women quite like the confidence this inspires). In terms of assurance-boosting testosterone, the Sazerac Bar in the lobby is the icing on the cake. This sultry bar, with its special cocktails including the Ramos Gin Fizz, and of course, the Sazerac, exudes charm. With a long bar along the length of the mahogany room, you could easily wear a top hat and spats and be quite comfortable.
Even the Guerlian Spa was sleek and chic. There may have been more men there than women, and relaxation came easily in such a pure environment. (And there were plenty of GQ Magazines on the table). For massage? Ask for Dwayne. He’s an instructor at the local massage academy, and puts you into a comatose state while the Budda Bar-like music plays in the background. You could gulp water (always in stylish glasses), but we opted for the champagne.
Will we be back? Oh yes. Either for a stag, a 40th birthday or a romantic weekend away. Or.. maybe just by ourselves. Any excuse would work. Even better? What happens in New Orleans stays in New Orleans.