The luxury hotel industry is undergoing a dramatic series of changes. The completion of Marriott’s acquisition of Starwood last month means that 30 brands, from very high to very low, are all under one roof. Can a luxury brand be run well when it has that many sisters and brothers? We’ll find out.
In these stressful times, when it appears that a class war is going to erupt at any moment and swallow America whole, let’s take a moment to celebrate that great equalizer across the boundaries of economic class: McDonald’s. What’s that, you say? Rich people don’t eat at McDonald’s? Dear reader, you could not be more wrong.
If you asked an elementary school-aged boy in the late 1960s or early ‘70s what he wanted to own when he grew up, if he could own anything in the world, he would very likely have had one or more of the following on his list: a rocket ship, his own car company, an airplane (or even better, an airline), maybe his local newspaper, and a sports team. Yes, these are clichés, and gross generalizations based on gender – but they’re also true.
OK, “war” is probably too strong a word. But as I reflect on last month’s New York Fashion Week, I’m stuck by the quiet struggle that has been going on for a while now in the American fashion world between four different types of designer brands: street, avenue, lane, and track.
When a certain kind of person dreams of luxury, and of New York, they dream of Broadway: neon-lit marquees, gorgeous gilded theaters, thick red velvet curtains, the best singing and acting in the world, the electricity of live performance, the intelligence and engagement of the audience members, the cacophony of sound emanating from Times Square and Restaurant Row. When I was a kid in Detroit, Broadway was emblematic of my hopes for the future: bright, bold, and irresistible.
