If I could be in love anywhere and spend a night with said beloved in a hotel room anywhere, I’d choose Hotel du Petit Moulin in Paris. The cozy hotel, once a bakery where Victor Hugo picked up his baguette, is a far cry from the 50 shades of greige epidemic that hotels have recently been afflicted with.
Tucked away in the heart of le Marais – the oldest district in Paris – Hotel du Petit Moulin comes with top shelf pedigree as a member of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World group. Totalling 17 rooms and suites, each one is individually designed with the exuberance of a Pantone color book, from baroque wallpaper to antiques, pitched ceilings, exposed beams, and shag and more shag carpets in sexy red or blue that vibe with the general tacticility of the decor.
The interior with its dazzling and eloquent counterpoint of styles is what one might expect from designer Christian Louboutin. Yes, the same man who gave us red soled shoes in much the Diana Vreeland manner, as when it came to fashion her famous pitch was: “Give them what they never knew they wanted.” And if the editor will let me sneak in a historic factoid: in Louis XIV’s court, only aristocrats could wear shoes with red heels, no mention of red soles though.
As for special touches, there’s a bottle of Bollinger champagne at arrival, particularly luxe and fragrant flower arrangements from Violetta Florist, Codage toiletries, breakfast served in your room if you so choose, with the fluffiest of croissants and the kind of decadent spread that will entice you to linger a pain au chocolat or two longer. And during breakfast (the whole stay, for that matter), I never, not once, heard a raised voice or an elevator creak or even a vacuum cleaner or cart bang in the hallway. It was the sound of silence: the hush and plush of Parisian luxury.