The New York Edition hotel: The Big Apple hotel with attitude

The famous hotelier Ian Schrager introduced the world to "boutique lifestyle hotels" in 1984, when he opened Morgans in New York. The concept – few rooms, elegantly furnished with upscale decor – quickly went frankenstein as lesser hands tried to replicate his success, splashing money around and overdecorating. Today, "boutique" has became cliche, virtually as meaningless as "luxury" or "unique." Which is why Schrager shunned his invention for something new.

Several years ago, Schrager teamed up with Marriott International to build a brand he called "Edition." None of the Edition hotels would look particularly alike, but their "attitude," or feel, would be unified: sophisticated and intimate. The hotels would also be destinations within themselves, filled with nightclubs and world-class restaurants. Each would be tailored with Schrager's personal style.

There are now Editions in Istanbul, London and Miami. The newest Edition, in New York, opened this past May, occupying the converted Metropolitan Life Insurance Company Tower. Modelled on St Mark's Basilica in Venice, the tower was the tallest building in the world until 1913, and it remains a formidable silhouette, its giant clock faces glowing over the bustling neighbourhood of NoMad.

In the first week of the New York Edition opening, I stopped by to stay for a night. I wanted to understand what was meant by this idea of a designed "attitude".

The lobby features a colour palette of whites, oatmeal, and silver, with loads of Venetian plaster and white oak panelling. Schrager recently told the New York Times that he was aiming for the ambience of "an upscale New York apartment building in the 1920s," which he certainly achieved.

My "apartment," on the ninth floor, was accessible via a strange touch-screen elevator interface that was by turns baffling and brilliant. The room faced west over the park, and illuminated with natural light as the sun sets through the canyons of New York high-rises. Indeed, the view is sublime from almost all of the rooms: windows are deeply recessed, and I had to resist the urge to curl up in the alcove and watch yellow cabs crawling down below. Here is the kind of silence usually reserved for isolation tanks. Perhaps picking up on this idea, a photograph by Melvin Sokolsky​ was hanging on my wall – a fashion model perched inside a giant bubble.

My room also contained a "love letter to New York" in the form of a 16-page newspaper stuffed full of so many insider tips and offbeat recommendations that even this jaded local found it charming. In some ways the New York Edition feels like a sprawling mansion; you get the extensive amenities that come with a Marriott property, but none of the impersonal disconnect of chain hotels. Imagine staying in the Upper East Side townhouse of a generous and extremely wealthy benefactor.