Australia’s Hidden Islands
The continent down under is surrounded by dozens of rugged outliers, many of which now offer luxury accommodations
By Marion Hume
The notion that fashionable shopping takes place only in cities is outmoded, thanks to the Internet. And so when Lise Strathdee—who grew up in Italy and New Zealand and then worked in Milan with Romeo Gigli for many years before establishing her own design studio in London—stopped off at a tiny, rural community in New Zealand in search of a lunchtime snack during a vacation, she knew she’d found the perfect place to set up shop. Outpost Hokianga outposthokianga.com is a hip concept store that mixes fashion, books, art and fine food, and happens to be located in Rawene, a village clustered around a harbor on the mighty Hokianga estuary. Four years on, Outpost Hokianga, which Strathdee calls “a general store for the 21st century,” is situated in a converted post office, and it’s thriving. Products include her own designs, such as cargo pants reimagined in opulent Chinese silks, innovative jewelry, and gourmet food, like pesto made by local producers and balsamic vinegar imported from a former fashion manufacturer in Italy. While price is no concern to shoppers who have driven some two hours over switchback roads from The Lodge at Kauri Cliffs, the nearest five-star accommodation, Strathdee makes sure not to exclude the local community. “Prices start at 50¢,” she says, “so a young girl can come in here and buy a pretty hair elastic or just sit in my fashion library.”
TIME | November 2008
Fashion on the Fly- Belinda Seper
By Marion Hume
Were you to glance across the front row at any fashion show and spot a striking 6-ft.-tall (1.8 m) Australian clad in Marni, you would not be surprised to learn that Belinda Seper — whose two-nation, 13-store retail empire makes her one of the most-important independent fashion entrepreneurs in the southern hemisphere — was once one of Sydney’s top models. Less expected, however, would be the discovery that Seper was formerly Captain Seper, having spent 12 years rising through the ranks in the Army Reserve (the equivalent of the U.S. National Guard). She now spends much of her time traveling the globe, spotting the latest trends and placing seasonal orders for her stores, some of which are aptly named Belinda. The navigational skills that in the army earned Seper the nickname “the human compass” have proved useful while wending her way through the fashion capitals.
Favorite hotel: “The Peninsula Hong Kong — a harbor-view room.”
Travel tip: “Pack light.”
Jet-lag remedy: “Melatonin, red wine and lots of sleep on board.”
Airport pastime: “Comparison shopping for new makeup.”
Packing tip: “Keep clothes on hangers, place in dry-cleaning bags, roll up and then put items in luggage.”
Favorite city: “Paris.”
Favorite country: “Italy.”
Items I can’t travel without: “A picture of my daughter Sophie, a gray cashmere wrap and a Diptyque candle.”
Escape destination: “Bali.”
Place I’ve never been but would like to visit: “India — I have had my visa issued twice and still have not made it.”
Place I will never go again: “Taiwan.”
Favorite travel companion: “I prefer to travel alone and make the most of other people’s company when I arrive.”
Best off-the-beaten-path spot: “On safari in South Africa.”
Best shopping: “Hong Kong.”
Favorite luggage: “Tumi.”
Worst travel experience: “A full-scale emergency landing in the U.S. Enough said.”
Anatomy of a 5-Star Hotel
By MARION HUME
TIME | 22 October 2008
Size matters, says Sir Rocco Forte, especially when it comes to a hotel bathroom. Forte, 63, should know. Knighted by the Queen of England in 1994 for outstanding service to the U.K. tourism industry, he has spent a lifetime in hospitality: he is the former chairman and ceo of Forte Group PLC, which had more than 800 hotels when it was sold in 1996. In 1997, Sir Rocco acquired the Balmoral in Edinburgh, Scotland, as the cornerstone of what is currently an 11-strong five-star-hotel group called the Rocco Forte Collection, which emphasizes contemporary luxury — no gold taps here. Indeed, the only other job he has ever had was playing a waiter on TV when he was a teenager. Sir Rocco, who collaborates with his sister, interior-design director Olga Polizzi, works on both new constructions and refurbishment projects. 2009 will see the opening of properties in Sicily and Prague, and 2010, expansion beyond Europe into the Middle East and North Africa. His most ambitious renovation has been the reminting of the 1837 London hotel gem Brown’s — where the Roosevelts once stayed and where Rudyard Kipling wrote The Jungle Book — which reopened in 2005 after a $24 million remodeling. Walking through Brown’s, he discusses the many aspects that combine to make a great hotel experience.
Meet and Greet
A first-class hotel stay begins long before you lay eyes on your room, Sir Rocco says. Although many prospective guests visit the company’s website, only about 10% book entirely online, the rest preferring to discuss their plans by phone. This gives a friendly staffer the chance to mention the benefits of upgrading to a suite. For convenience, confirmations are sent by e-mail, at guests’ preference, despite Sir Rocco’s favorite — “a beautiful letter on nice paper.”
To ensure that a guest feels like No. 1, the optimum number of rooms is 150, the point at which economies of scale really work. With fewer, the ratio of guests to staff at the five-star level requires very high prices; with more, personal service may suffer. (The Rocco Forte hotel in Abu Dhabi will have 270 rooms, made feasible by lower staffing costs in the Middle East.) “You don’t want to get much above 200 rooms in Europe,” says Sir Rocco, “unless you are the Four Seasons, a company I hugely admire.”
Transatlantic arrivals to Europe tend to be in the early morning, requiring an administrative juggling act when check-in isn’t until 2 p.m. Asking guests to reserve a room starting the night before may seem profitable for a hotel, but in fact it results in losses in potential spending on services, restaurant and bar. The better option is to find out guests’ departure and arrival times and schedule housekeeping staff accordingly.
No Cookie-Cutter Design
At the five-star level, rooms should not be identical yet should be in tune with brand identity. Sir Rocco is opposed to “dècor that wows, because it palls just as fast.” He favors instead an equation of contemporary comfort plus details such as well-chosen books to add warmth, attractive art and flourishes of frivolity. “But I leave decoration to my sister and the designers she chooses,” he says. “I will look at the prototype room from a practical view: Is the bedroom reading light well placed and bright enough? Do the windows open? If that is possible, guests like it.”
Old buildings present unique space challenges. The solution is to make one room as big as possible, favoring the bathroom over the bedroom. Double basins appeal, as does a huge bathtub (even if left unused). The travel-size toiletries are gifts to take if you wish. But leave that robe. The practice of chambermaids’ removing robes from departing guests’ luggage has been replaced by the appearance of an extra charge on one’s bill, often before the guest has left the building. (Housekeeping informs the front desk right after you’ve left your room.)
Spacious walk-in closets might have to be wedged into corners in old buildings, yet they signal opulence. A housekeeper to unpack and press when a guest arrives and repack when he or she departs reinforces five-star service, which some guests welcome because “they have people pack for them at home,” Sir Rocco says. “Others are sensitive about someone poking about in their things, so we always ask first.” The optimum number of mahogany hangers is 10: five trouser and five coat hangers.
Hypnose beds — the biggest queen size is 61⁄2 ft. by 61⁄2 ft. (2 m by 2 m) — make for idyllic repose. A choice of 16 different pillows is offered at Brown’s, where the sheets are 300-thread-count Egyptian cotton by the Italian brand Gastaldi. Forget that chocolate on the pillow; turndown means pampering bath oils placed by the tub and a choice of still or sparkling water on a silver tray.
“Achieving a good hotel restaurant is perhaps the most difficult challenge of all,” says Sir Rocco. Success requires a balancing act — or several at once: appropriate grandeur vs. too much formality, service that is attentive yet not intrusive, the needs of hotel guests who may want an off-menu item like a plain omelette after a long journey vs. those of local clientele who want a special feast.
Décor must be rich and warm to work by night but not so gloomy as to depress the lunchtime crowd. Lighting is “most difficult on summer evenings, when it is light outside,” Sir Rocco says. To create the right atmosphere, “you start with the light bright inside and then lower it as the light fades outside — you would think it would be the other way round.” Since many people prefer the security of having their back to a wall, there’s a central column of banquettes at the Albemarle at Brown’s, creating the illusion of a cocooned space in the restaurant’s most open area. And while the art in a hotel’s rooms should be appealing but not bland, restaurant art can be more controversial. “It’s fine if some people dislike it intensely,” says Sir Rocco.
The Lounge Factor
Hotels need cozy spaces, and Sir Rocco likes to add “naughty corners.” At Brown’s, for example, a nook that seats 12 in the Donovan Bar — named for the late photographer Terence Donovan — features his sauciest nudes.
Keeping it Fresh
A hotel needs to look as fresh as the flowers at the front desk, yet the mark of spectacular success — 90% occupancy year-round — necessarily means the premises take “a hell of a beating” and thus require constant refurbs done in a manner the guests won’t notice. Soft-furnishing updates generate little noise, but since polishing marble can be disruptive, “you do it in the middle of the day,” Sir Rocco says, “when most people are out having lunch or haven’t arrived yet.”
Pursuits Modern Classics | June 26th 2008
The Bird Man
By Marion Hume
Although the marvelously named Oiva Toikka is respected as one of the world’s pre-eminent artists working in glass, he is also loved by people who don’t give a hoot about such stuff. They love him because of his little birds.
Since 1972, Toikka, 77, a Finn with a walrus mustache and deep belly laugh, has created a flock of more than 300 small masterpieces, all handblown at Nuutajärvi glassworks, two hours by car from Helsinki.
Some look like real birds; Toikka’s pulu, or pigeon, has the humble features of its down-to-earth cousins in the town square, while his nest of baby barn owls have the anxious eyes of real baby owls waiting for their mother to return. Toikka’s willow grouse appears plump enough for a festive table, and his muscular barnacle goose looks as if it might actually take flight. But these creations are no mere imitations. Instead, Toikka’s birds, which are issued in annual limited editions by the Finnish design company Iittala, show what can be achieved when imagination and technical prowess take flight.
In fact, some of his birds do not exist outside the mind of Toikka, who has stayed closely connected to his childhood. The youngest of 10, Toikka grew up in a Karelian farmhouse that’s now on the Russian side of the border. “I’m in a lucky period, because I’m a child again. At my age I have the right to be childish,” he says, admitting that he often changes the color of a wing or a tail just because he feels like it. After 35 years, he says, “people trust me too much. I’m lying all the time!”
This jolly exterior belies a serious artist of immense talent. Toikka is one of the most distinguished art designers to have emerged from a nation that leads the world in glassworks. He has also created elaborate and monumental installations, but he shrugs off that work by saying he started with birds because cows were too difficult to craft.
Toikka does not blow glass himself but relies instead on master blowers of whom he says, “I can ask impossible things, and they are so kind, they try — and sometimes they succeed.” With his collaborators, Toikka pioneered the ingenious technique of first shaping the body of the bird and then sealing the aperture made by the rod with a blob of molten glass, which forms the head and the beak.
There are some birds that even Toikka hasn’t mastered yet. “The flamingo is not so easy in glass, with those tiny legs, so I will leave it till last,” he says, noting that an attempt at creating the American eagle looked more like a seagull. With Toikka now semiretired, Iittala’s flock is growing in new directions, thanks to the creativity of Italian glass artist Giorgio Vigna and a young Finn, Anu Penttinen. Still, Toikka has no plans to leave Nuutajä]rvi glassworks, where he has worked since 1963, anytime soon.
“People love birds because we have a dream of flight,” he says. “People envy birds — but of course not flies, and they fly also.” At that, Toikka chortles. Does he share a dream of flying away? “I want to fly, but not in the shape of a bird, because they have no hands. An angel is a better combination. Wings and hands together is more practical,” he says with glee.