As seasoned travellers will know, too much hyping of an experience sometimes leads to disappointment. Mimosas? A fancy name for watered-down champagne. Macarons? Egg whites with notions above their station. Butlers? A looming, buttoned-up presence quietly judging your way of life — unless, of course, you’ve checked in at Parisian icon, the Hôtel de Crillon, a Rosewood Hotel. Here, your butler masters small talk to perfection, will happily pack or unpack your suitcase on request, and, without missing a beat, source a wireless charger to revive your waterlogged phone, should you accidentally drop it in the delicately scented waters of your palatial bath tub. Oops.
This storied stay looms large in the collective French consciousness. For many who grew up on tales of its glitzy débutante balls and Hemingway-approved bar, it’s the hôtel de luxe par excellence — and synonymous with the very best things in life.
The Duc de Crillon’s sumptuous pad started life as a pet project for Louis XV. Its much lauded neoclassical façade was built first, in 1755, then retro-fitted with a home worthy of royalty. Having outlived several revolutions, restorations and renovations, the Crillon now has all the trappings of a palace hotel — top of the list, many argue, of the 12 to reach this official ultra-luxe distinction in Paris.
The hotel’s grand entrance works a special kind of magic. Step away from the adrenaline-pumping traffic of Place de la Concorde and you’ll find yourself inside a serene, lofty lobby where you can flop at your leisure. Marble staircases lead to hushed hallways, sprawling suites, a Michelin-star restaurant and a tranquil spa.
This is no ordinary hotel. Here, names are dropped with rhythmic frequency. In the jewel-box Jardin d’Hiver dining room, a famous in-joke between Henri IV and the Duc de Crillon casually hangs, etched in stone, over a Baccarat crystal elephant gifted by the Taittinger family. No prizes for guessing who the Marie-Antoinette suite is named after: the unfortunate queen took piano lessons in these gilded rooms, mere steps from the site of her fatal meeting with Madame Guillotine. Karl Lagerfeld designed two grand apartments and one tiny annexe, the Choupette room, in honour of his celebrity cat who still celebrates her birthdays there. Leonard Bernstein wrote much of West Side Story in the vast, terraced top-floor suite that’s now named after him; Justin Bieber streamed a lockdown concert live from the roof. Just last year, the Crillon hosted Taylor Swift for restorative post-concert naps (the beds are so divine, guests have been known to order them for their own home), and the infamous Brockway-LaGrone wedding that took TikTok by storm, with a price tag even more scandalous than the Affair of the Diamond Necklace.
Don’t fret if your inner imposter finds itself triggered by this illustrious guest list. Refreshingly, service isn’t stuffy or pompous, but rather laidback and warm — a rare feat given the weight of history the hotel carries. Whether you’re checking in for a night or several months (regulars are known to book suites for lengthy visits), what remains with you are the small, thoughtful touches to sweeten your stay.
Candies and pâtes de fruits are dotted around the lounges, where no surface is left without a delicate flower arrangement to draw the eye. Frilled shower caps are pretty enough to take home; fluffy bathrobes are offered with or without hoods. In the subterranean spa, loungers are heated and a well-lit makeup station means you can touch up with ease. The in-house pâtisserie houses a glass case filled with rows of vanilla-flecked flans; top chef Paul Pairet can often be glimpsed, in bad-boy stubble and impeccable chef whites, on his way to his bistro Nonos. Cocktails are seasonal at Bar Les Ambassadeurs (Hemingway, no doubt, would still approve), and the lights are dimmed just so; look up to admire the ethereal painted ceiling that has cast an elegant veil over centuries of whispered deals and secret trysts. It’s no wonder Smith have dubbed it one of Paris’s best hotel bars.
In short, expect nothing less than perfection from the Hôtel de Crillon — a true and timeless icon doing what it does best.
NEIGHBOURHOOD ICONS
Hermès
24 Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré
You’ll find Hermès stores all around the world, but none can rival the sadler’s shop that started it all. The labyrinthine maison mère still houses master leatherworkers under the eaves, a museum of inspiring objects, and fragrant rooftop gardens. These hidden treasures are staff-only, though, off limits to the hoi polloi, so casual visitors will have to make do with the whimsical, seasonal window displays and a street-level glimpse of the jaunty horseman perched on top of the building.
Cadolle
4 Rue Cambon
Everyone who’s anyone gets their lingerie custom-made at Cadolle. Founder Herminie is credited with inventing the modern bra in 1889; her great-great-great granddaughter Patricia still runs the show. Couture houses are fans, as are Rihanna and Beyoncé; if your budget doesn’t quite stretch to bespoke pieces, this old-school, boudoir-like boutique stocks spirit- and bust-lifting ready-to-wear.
La Maison Maille
6 Place de la Madeleine
Condiment connoisseurs head to this wood-panelled boutique for all manner of bottled bounty. Sure, you could pick up a jar of French mustard at the nearest supermarket, but Maille’s Mustard Sommelier (yes, really) will happily let you sample one of the unusual flavours on tap. Poured into an earthenware pot and topped with cork, a jar of truffle-flecked or cumin-infused mustard makes a chic and delicious gift.
Spoil yourself with a stay at the Rosewood Hôtel de Crillon, or see our full collection of luxury hotels in Paris