SAN FRANCISCO - For generations, the Redwood Room at The Clift Hotel was a quiet refuge for the thirsty rich. No longer.
"When über-trendy hotelier reopened the venerable hotel just off Union Square last month after a $40 million renovation, its art deco barroom suddenly became the place to be seen.
Doors open at 5, and although any hipster worth his black Pradas usually wouldn't be caught dead in daylight, the rules appear to be different when it comes to this updated San Francisco institution. Most nights, a line forms outside before sundown. Unheard of.
Some friendly advice: Arrive early.
Schrager's hotels - the Delano in Miami Beach, the Paramount, Royalton and Hudson in New York and the Mondrian in Los Angeles, among them - have often been branded more theater than fine lodging. But to many that's just fine.
"Well, this is the theater district, so after you've been next door and seen Aida, you can come in here and see another show," says Tanya Griffith, 26, a music student in San Francisco, as she sipped her $10 Ketel One martini.
On any given night, The Clift's general manager, Timothy McEneny, can be seen out front handling crowd control. Hotel guests are given ID cards to present when trying to get through the lobby door after an evening out, or if they've exited the Redwood Room and attempt to return. The room only seats 87, with full occupancy at about 130, 150 tops.
"Everyone wants to come here," says McEneny, who for once is not speaking in the hyperbole often associated with hotel managers. The place is red-hot.
For the most part, the famed bar has survived intact. Its trademark redwood walls and art deco fixtures remain. A new and dramatic glass bar has been added, along with plasma-screen portraits whose eyes and lips move slowly, causing revelers to think they've had one drink too many. In short, it's fun.
Even the often-caustic Vanity Fair says: "The new Clift is everything it used to be - and then some."
New York Times architecture writer Pilar Viladas says, "It looks better than it has in decades. (Schrager) has not, as some feared, turned that 86-year-old local institution into an over-designed, under-civilized, velvet-roped hangout for 22-year-old fashion victims."
Well, yes and no. One only has to stand in the lobby at 9 at night to decide whether this is your kind of place. The lobby, by the way, is filled with whimsical mismatched furniture, dominated by a larger-than-life Louis Quinze chair, something that brings a smile to most visitors' faces.
Even Stanley Marcus, a founder of Neiman Marcus, recently wrote a letter praising Schrager for "bringing the old grand dame back to life."
Schrager is also happy with the results. "The people in the area were very sensitive to what we should or should not do with the Redwood Room," he says. "We were between a rock and a hard place. We had to be sensitive to the past, but look toward the future. I think we succeeded. We were able to satisify the dye-hard San Franciscans, and yet still make it a better place."
Schrager says it was a joy to work with "such a nice building."
Upstairs, the 373 rooms have the same bones they did before Schrager took charge. Many are small and even the larger rooms have small bathrooms. And we mean very small. Also, there is very little storage space for your Kate Spade bags, let alone your underwear.
And service, while very friendly, can be spotty. A recent guest found a dirty drinking glass in the bathroom upon checking in, a Tuesday message was not delivered until Wednesday, and service in the Redwood Room can be slow, but the poor waitresses should be given a break. Waiting on tables there would test the patience of Job. Think dozens of Type A personalities wanting their Cosmopolitans at exactly the same time, which means now!
It helps that the all-clad-in-gray men who work the front desk and lobby door look like they walked right out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, a now-familiar Schrager trademark. But the even better news is that not only are they pretty, they lack the attitude often associated with other Schrager properties. In fact, they're downright friendly.
"We hired our people for personality and sincerity," says McEneny, refusing to admit it didn't hurt that some of them look like Matthew McConaughey.
But some are convinced this new Clift is nothing more than some emperor wearing new clothes.
One older San Francisco couple who did not want to give their names wandered through the Philippe Starck-designed lobby recently. When asked what they thought of the new face lift compared with the old Clift, the woman simply replied, "Interesting."