Subtle Magic. This Chelsea, London hotel is unmarked from the outside. With no signage, it could easily be mistaken for a private mansion. Within? What feels like the home of Dorian Gray — or perhaps his creator, Oscar Wilde. At Sloane viscerally summons the intricacy, opulence, curiosity, and wit of the illustrious 19th century writer, a famed proponent of layered, expressive romanticism and aestheticism. 

The property’s detail is extraordinary: Loro Piana cashmere drapes reside alongside antique Benson lamps — their namesake designer, W.A.S. Benson, played a key role in the invention of the gas lamp and in the Arts and Crafts movement, which inspires At Sloane’s furniture. There’s also a fascination with symmetry here. Everything is seemingly a mirror image of itself, to the point of trickery. Trompe-l'œil doorways are carved into walls to match their twins. This playful ruse runs throughout the hotel: There’s a second, secret doorway through a walk-in closet and little hidden booths behind curtains in the lavish downstairs bar. Look closely enough and you may spy a naughty orgiastic scene on the antiquity-inspired ceramics. 

The project was ultimately a restoration labor of love, no expense spared. The original glossy wooden lift in the heart of the property cost £2 million alone to restore, and the mirror-maker was the same craftsperson who worked on the Versailles refurb. Suffice to say, At Sloane’s design details could fill their own book, but its sensorial considerations are also worth noting: The music button on the bedside panel ushers in groovy Parisian tunes and, in addition to presenting standard lighting options like “sheer” or “blackout,” guest rooms also offer a “love” option — a romantically dim setting that wraps the space in a honey-hued blanket.

Save Face. I’m in a super fun, new era wherein my face spontaneously breaks out into angry, ruddy allergic patches. It’s sensitive, dry, and hard to make sense of. Who doesn’t love a mystery? One moisturizer has become an unexpected ally in this sad little battle: Gel Crème Lejand by Furcy Botanik. Made with djon djon mushroom and guava leaves, it’s light enough for reactive skin yet incredibly hydrating. It also has a neutralizing effect, settling out redness and bringing a nice glow to pallid areas. I’ve just finished my jar, scooping out the last bits (a substance not dissimilar to the custard found inside a donut) with desperate, clawing fingers. 

What Lies Beneath. There is a hotel in midtown called The Prince Kitano. Its lobby is hushed and dignified, lined in deep plum carpeting, and lit by crinkled paper lanterns. It feels like a relic of the ’90s — the nostalgic yet timelessly elegant apartment of Frasier coming to mind. But below is the real treat: Hakubai, the Japanese fine-dining restaurant underneath the hotel. The space is a modernist, amber-glowing stunner with red-brown lacquered wood walls, Bauhaus chairs, and black marble tables — a supernatural, sculptural floral display punctuates the space, juxtaposing snow-white petals against all that glossy darkness. Hakubai’s 11-course menu takes inspiration from shun philosophy, in which every ingredient is enjoyed at its peak flavor. From Japanese artist-designed vessels, one enjoys dishes such as warm, creamy uni chawanmushi; cold green-tea soba noodles topped with tempura; and dessert-like gems from outer space: my hakkaisan sake kasu ice cream was topped with a golden tissue of sweetness — torn and placed like a drifting chiffon scarf. My favorite cocktail was the tagetes patula, featuring marigold liquor, apricot honey, grape water, orange, and clarified milk.

The Long Stretch. I live for new discoveries in my own neighborhood. One particularly special one is a yoga studio called New Vibe Yoga, located on the top floor of a historic mansion on St. Mark's Place. It’s a real oasis — hard to reconcile with its location on one of Manhattan’s most frenetic streets. The studio is up a white-plastered spiral staircase, on which one feels like they’re ascending to heaven. The studio itself, sweeping and soaked in light, is covered in art from a Catskills-based artist — gestural floral works that glow and move like the body. There’s a rooftop garden overflowing with flowers and fruit, and everything smells sweet and herbaceous. The type of yoga practiced is Ashtanga, an intimidating form for many that founder Alex Schatzberg has worked to translate into more accessible movements. As the session began winding down, during Savasana, I actually started tearing up below my little eye mask. I think they call that catharsis? Consider one jaded New Yorker a convert. 

Better Than Ever. Bar Contra recently opened and, like with anything the New York-based chef duo Fabián von Hauske and Jeremiah Stone touch, it’s sexy-fun-irreverent-cool-delicious. The space used to be their famed tasting-menu restaurant, Contra, which has since transformed into a cheekier cocktail bar with small plates. They tapped expert Dave Arnold for the drinks, which are batshit phenomenal. Favorites for low ABV: The Purple Cab (made with red wine, milk syrup, and champagne acid) — oddly nostalgic of berry Go-gurt, which sounds gross but this certainly is not. It’s singular and sublime. Favorites for somewhere in the middle: The Saltair (umeboshi tequila, lime, served with a tiny beer — tastes like toes in the sands of Puerto Escondido: salty, salty waves crashing ahead) and the Passion Fruit Lowball (an effervescent collab between passion fruit and champagne). Favorite for boozy: The Banana Justino (described as “the holy marriage of bananas and rum”), a rich, caramel-coated tongue hug.

Winona Forever. I’m not sure why carajillos aren’t more available in New York. It’s a city where one can get literally anything — except, inexplicably, one of the best cocktails in the world. This Mexican post-meal drink is made with Licor 43 and espresso or coffee poured over ice. It’s the espresso martini’s lighter, better twin. Less syrupy, more velvety. I found my carajillo (a damn perfect one) at beloved Bed Stuy restaurant Winona’s — a perfect summer eatery. The drink, garnished with black lava salt, embodies the restaurant itself: fresh classics, made with style and love. Two more standouts for a joyful meal in the high-ceilinged, industrial space, which is strung with sexy plants and lined in white brick: scallop crudo, sweetened with slices of luscious stone fruit, imbued with the nutty richness of sesame oil; and cavatelli verde with summer squash and pecorino — chewy little snails of deeply satisfying savory dough. 

Naked and Abroad. I had my first German sauna experience this year, at the Soho House in Berlin, which is to say: a completely nude, mixed-gender experience. I foolishly arrived wearing my bathing suit. Was I allowed to keep it on? I asked. No, the attendant solemnly shook his head. In Germany, he explained with a placid smile, you “schwitzen in zee nude.” So, let’s start with the hardware and then get to the … software? The space itself was everything you’d expect from the sleek hospitality and lifestyle brand. A steam room, sauna, spacious tiled area to take a breather, ample showers to cool down in between, and ante chambers with cushioned seating areas to rest and hydrate. Now within: I’d never been in a room with so many swinging parts. And honestly? Being completely naked amidst so much nakedness was pretty transcendent. It embodied what travel should be: a way to get closer to yourself. 

My Space. In the process of refreshing my home for a number of reasons, I’ve procured new bedding from a brand I've been loyal to for a while now: Bella Notte Linens. I’ve traded their white linen sheets (gorgeous for the warmer months) for cotton sateen (ideal for cooler temperatures). The shade? Aptly, it’s called Autumn. And feels like it. Rich and lustrous, it’s the hue of a turning leaf, somewhere between saffron and terracotta. Their buttery and cooling feel and weight, substantial yet still light (whipped, almost), has a true sedative effect. My other update is a new rug from Jaipur Living, a shimmering, handwoven swath of blush tones anchoring my living room in cozy warmth. One-hundred percent wool with a gradient effect, darker on the edges and lighter in the middle, it’s like a sunrise over reflective water, with a perfect pile — and easy to remove stains from (according to an ex-Domino editor who has been in possession of a similar style for many years).

Bottle Shock. You know those places where you feel like the protagonist in your own life? The ones with a buttery glow, fairy lights, dewy air. There’s a Beach House song playing, maybe just in your mind, but there nonetheless. That’s With Others, a new wine bar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Most importantly: The food is way better than it needs to be. If I were to run a wine bar, I’d violently upcharge a tin of anchovies and chuck it from the kitchen. But With Others offers the platonic ideal of thoughtful, wine-complementing dishes: the fresh, salty, fancy olive oil-soaked ones made for eating alfresco in balmy weather. Think warm, hearty sausage over lentils; sweet, chilled melon draped with tissue-thin prosciutto; big, fluffy salads. And best of all? Fifty percent of its wine list is from female producers. That’s what I call style and substance. 

In Good Taste. The Chef’s Table at Brooklyn Fare is a New York restaurant of mythic status. I’d heard its very long, two-part (misnomered) name — the restaurant is now located in Manhattan, not Brooklyn — for some time. And after dining there, I wholly understand why icons are heralded as such. The Chef’s Table is located inside a Hell’s Kitchen grocery store. Roaming through its fluorescently lit aisles of produce until you find the restaurant’s door is much fun indeed. Newly co-piloted by chefs Max Natmessnig and Marco Prins, the concept runs on surgical precision. A glossy counter cuts through the hushed, glowing room; an open kitchen is the crystalline focal point. Japanese and French inspired, the dizzying tasting menu features morsels so dialed, so sumptuous, they feel at once holy and sinful: creamy, nutty foie gras wrapped in salty Jamon Ibérico; uni under a soft pile of black truffle, like dark confetti, all lobbed over a plush log of buttery toast; golden eye snapper in a pool of rich saffron bouillabaisse. Course after course was shockingly stunning. There’s also a suggested dress code, which I love. A meal this superb should require a damn jacket.

Worth Celebrating. There’s nothing more versatile, food-complimenting, or life-affirming than a glass of champagne. One particular bottle I’m loving is Telmont’s Réserve de la Terre, which I paired with a home-cooked bowl of Indian curry on my couch a few weeks ago. With notes of honeysuckle, fresh minerality, and the crisp sparkle of a green apple, the bottle’s as dynamic as its history: It was the first sustainable luxury champagne on the market. Founded in 1912 during the champagne riots, Telmont was relaunched in 2021 with a commitment to becoming climate positive by 2030. To date, it has stayed true to this mission — from remaining dedicated to 100% certified organic agriculture to developing the lightest champagne bottle in the world. It’s a conscious, renegade brand turning any occasion into an affirmation of good morals, and good taste.