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With the opening of the Trump International Hotel & Tower Las Vegas, New York developer Donald Trump is bringing another dose of bravado to a city that already swaggers with it.
Trump’s approach to luxury hospitality may be more gilded, exclusive and Manhattan-inspired, but it’s no less bold.
The nine-treatment-room spa advances the look and feel of spas by putting the hair dryers in private dressing rooms, using glossy wood paneling and assigning guests a spa attache.
The 1,500-square-foot fitness center offers a view of the pool, Technogym cardio machines and staff members who offer training tips and chilled water bottles.
Two months ago, the guy opened a $1 billion hotel in Vegas without a casino. Madness. He built the thing off a lonely stretch of road behind the Fashion Show Mall. Insanity. He created his 64-story condo-hotel tower by selling the residential-style units to deed-holding investors, who may or may not add them to the hotel’s rental pool. That’s possibly brilliant – or disastrous if sales of the units, priced from $700,000 to $5.6 million, continue to slow.
Indulgent features
But he’s added enough novel, indulgent features to warm jaded travelers and soothe frequently frazzled fliers. A white-gloved doorman ushers guests into a high-ceilinged lobby that shimmers with crystal, marble and golden trim and is continuously scented with a lightly floral fragrance.
Guests are immediately offered a chilled bottle of water and a heated hand towel on individual trays. In half a minute, the elevator whisks them to the uppermost floors, where cozy but contemporary rooms offer vast views of the neon Strip or the golden sunset.
Trump leaves no doubt about his ambitions. The hotel’s logo
Trump is omnipresent: His name appears nearly three dozen times within the guest room, whether on his namesake magazine, a catalog for daughter Ivanka’s jewelry collection or on the bath toiletries.
He named the main restaurant with his initials, DJT, and put his favorite dishes on the menu (Mr. Trump’s Butter Whipped Potato Puree, Mr. Trump’s Butter Lettuce Salad). He installed his personal chef, Joe Isidori, at the helm of DJT, a grand restaurant of chandeliers, giant half-moon banquettes and inscrutable menu items. (Frozen goat cheese? Evaporated carrots?)
His personal vision
Moreover, plastered across a mirrored wall in H2(eau), the poolside restaurant, Trump spelled out his personal vision in capital letters: “As long as you’re going to be thinking anyway, think big.”
He does. Viewed from the side, the tower looks like a giant upside-down T, one that Trump crowned with his name in lights. With 1,282 rooms, it’s not the largest hotel in Vegas, but it may be the biggest gamble.
Tranquillity isn’t usually what brings the big-spending throngs to Vegas, but this no-smoking hotel is a serene oasis apart from the action on the Strip. The building sits alone behind a dusty vacant lot where the New Frontier hotel once stood and where a second tower may someday be built. To leave the hotel, guests must travel by car, traverse a rocky path without sidewalks and street lights or navigate through Nordstrom, which offers the nearest entrance to Fashion Show Mall across the street.
With the Wynn and the Palazzo as its luxury hotel neighbors, the Trump helps form a new Golden Triangle at the increasingly upscale northern end of the Strip. He’s dressed the building to fit in with its rich friends – in 24-karat-gold glass, we’re told. He should have spent more on sound insulation: Sirens, freeway noise and train whistles came right into my 46th-floor room, loudly enough to wake me.
The studios, one-bedroom and penthouse suites, from 515 to 3,500 square feet, are outfitted with golden-hued, contemporary decor and brand-name kitchens. My studio came with a compact Sub-Zero refrigerator, a two-burner Wolf stove and enough tools and appliances to make breakfast or mix cocktails but not a full meal.
Rack rates for studios begin at $349, and penthouses top out at $5,000.
The hotel aims to lure travelers who demand luxury accommodations plus a high level of staff attention.
Toward that goal, an “attache” calls travelers before and during arrival to answer any requests.
During my mid-May visit, about 10 percent of the units were functioning as hotel rooms, while the rest remained unsold or were private condos.
The low occupancy should have meant abundant, swift service. Yet in two days, housekeeping failed to clean the room or perform the promised turn-down service, even after I complained.
Still, when staffers were on top of their duties, they excelled, anticipating needs and working hard.
Sometime in the future, I’m told, the hotel will offer travelers personalized business cards and in-room loaner computers. Also to come: a gift shop and air-conditioned pool cabanas. The pool is a long, shallow stretch of glory for lap swimmers or sunbathers, who can pop into H2(eau) for cocktails or La Quercia prosciutto panini or salads.
Things may be a little slow at Trump’s golden oasis right now, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. The traditional temptations of Sin City are, after all, exhausting. It’s nice to have a place to indulge in quieter pleasures, such as fine wine, hot baths and lazy days by the pool. Trump didn’t get to be Trump by being a bad judge of human nature.
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