A hotel robe is a robe is a robe: no, no, no!
Where we lament poor quality bathrobes and praise those that get this resort staple right.
Where we lament poor quality bathrobes and praise those that get this resort staple right.
In this line of work, every single day brings stories of lands afar and the new hotels that inhabit them. We’re told of “personal sanctuaries of peace and harmony” and of spaces designed to “lovingly revitalise your soul and mind”. And we love it. These press releases and announcements help us to paint pictures of what these properties are like without even having to leave the comfort of the bedroom-cum-office.
We then also learn more about the ethos behind the brands: how the hotel is connecting with the community to make it a better neighbourhood for future generations or what sustainable practices have been put in place to lessen the impact on Earth – truly magnificent stuff.
But along with the interior design, the location, the cuisine. Along with the local spa treatments and opportunities to lay poolside with a cocktail crafted from self-sustaining fruit and vegetables grown on-site with grey water from the guest bathrooms; along with all this, there’s something else that we’re keen to hear about. An oft-neglected yet truly pivotal piece of information that we’d argue needs to be as deeply considered as the rest of a property’s design… and that’s the robe situation.
After travelling for hours and waiting in queues for immigration and fumbling through check-in with passports (“I thought you had them?”) and credit cards (“I forgot to tell the bank we were in Nicaragua”) what I want is a shower. A shower and a bloody good robe to envelop my newly appointed vacay skin.
There is nothing, and I really have to reiterate this, NOTHING more infuriating than arriving at a sublime destination that has been worked on by some of the world’s best hotel designers and crafted by local artisans to be carbon positive than coming to find that the marble bathroom with eco-friendly hand-blended body wash is also home to a scratchy robe.
You know the robe I’m talking about. The one you pull out of the wardrobe only when you’re sick because you need something to answer the door to the delivery person because you’re wearing a mismatched outfit that can only loosely be referred to as pyjamas.
The one that you consider getting rid of twice a year during your seasonal declutters and always just leave in there because it’s too heavy to take to the second-hand store and what else will you wear when you’re sick anyway?
Those types of robes have no place in a luxury hotel. No place.
I get it (because I have asked a number of hoteliers about this in my time) humans are the worst and we pocket things, like said robes, so investing in the best is probably not financially sound. But don’t you already have our credit card details? Couldn’t you send awkward emails to those naughty people letting them know you’re charging them for the larceny? Why must good people suffer for the sins of robe snatchers?
And don’t get me started on those waffle robes (see main image) with the strangely short arms that I’ve found hanging behind the door of far too many supposedly luxe properties. That kind of robe is fine for a short time, I’m thinking a spa or workout robe (workout robe?! Is that even a robe genre?!) but it’s not a “let’s just stay in and order way-too-much room service and watch old episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” kind of robe.
It’s not the kind of gown that you look forward to getting into after you’ve been meeting with international clients all day and have had something stuck behind your left contact lens and you missed lunch but you’ve just had a shower in your gorgeous hotel and now smell like money and really do just want to slip into something a little more comfortable kind of robe. Is it?
Controversial opinion, but I’d go as far as to say that I’d prefer no robe at all to a scratchy towelling or waffle variety.
Soft feel against the skin + oversized design + pockets = robe goals.
In the interest of positivity and getting me out of the robe death spiral of my own creation, I must shout out some stellar robes I have had the pleasure of lounging in over the years. Many properties get robes right and we should all bow down to them.
The St. Regis Hotel Hong Kong for example has several different shapes and sizes of robes from Frette – delightful. When I stayed, I asked them to bring a selection for me to try before choosing my perfect one, which incidentally could have fitted both myself and my guest. Total comfort goals.
In a ryokan onsen in the heart of Tokyo back in the day, I remember checking in and receiving a beautifully designed Yukata graced with a blue wave motif and contrasting obi. This cotton delight was large enough for any body type and–unsurprisingly given the Japanese tradition of bathing–the ideal garment for lounging.
All I’m saying is, so much thought has gone into designing a once-in-a-lifetime holiday experience at these hotels, let’s not distract from the magic with a lacklustre robe.
But wait, there’s more…
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