The Standard hotel
Louis, his crib and the ESB
Actually, who needs a crib?
Manhattan? With a seven month old? Were we nuts? Possibly, but having the Big Apple just three hours away by train was too tantalising to ignore. Granted we could have attempted a slightly more baby-friendly weekend than splurging on The Standard, the new Andre Balazs hotel in the Meatpacking District, but, hey, that might have been dull.
Besides, what's a diaper budget for if not for blowing on a hot new hotel? Especially one dubbed "intimidatingly modish" by Vanity Fair. How better for new parents to kid themselves that having a kid doesn't have to mean not having a life?
We were excited to see The Standard because it takes the big glass box style of architecture that has become DJ's post-Chicago passion to the next level. Plus it straddles the High Line, an elevated railway line, defunct since 1980, being given a new lease of life from this spring as a park. Our room was amazing. On the shoebox side, to be fair, but brilliantly designed to squeeze in everything including a "peekaboo" bath and shower. (Q: How many other guests actually played peekaboo in their's?) There was even room for Louis' crib, a minimalist grey number. (Although he decided the bed was more comfortable....)
Louis lapped it all up, from his cribside view of the Empire State Building and Saturday night dinner out at BLT Burger in Greenwich Village, to drinks in a Meatpacking wine bar on Sunday and a late lunch on Monday at Pastis, his first stab at sharing "proper food" - Mommy's salad nicoise. He even came away with new togs: some needlecord overalls ("dungarees" in English) and sleeveless puffy gilet from a Eurochic children's shop. In fact, the only negative in his eyes was the temperature, several eye-watering degrees below freezing, which meant he couldn't check out the swings in the Bleecker Street playground. Next time. Provided we win the lottery first.