The Ludlow
If you've never strolled into The Ludlow on a Friday night around 9 or 10, let's just say, it's quite the spectacle. Groups and groups of people all well matched to the gritty glam of the interiors.
So, when a night of dinner at Dirty French turns into apres-dinner drinks in the garden, turns into apres-apres-dinner drinks slid into the tufts of a leather banquette in the lounge, turns into calling it a night by just getting a room upstairs and throwing on a robe - you're living luxuriously, our friend. Shearling throws tossed over chairs, floor to ceiling light-filled, factory-esque windows that slap you in the face with the coolness of Manhattan's Lower East Side skyline. Mornings don't get much better than this.
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