Last week we were brainstorming for Upgrade, a new column in the magazine. Upgrade is one of those w

Last week we were brainstorming for Upgrade, a new column in the magazine. Upgrade is one of those words that induces an endorphin rush—at least, I imagine that’s the case. During louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites our meeting, I lamented that I had yet to hear that magical word uttered louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites anytime I was travelling—until last night. I was booked to fly from Toronto to Dubai on Emirates in business class. Spare me no tears; I know that’s hardly a tough assignment. I was showing my passport to the ticket agent before boarding and she smiled and said, “Oh, you’re being upgraded!” I wanted to do a victory dance, but I was travelling with my boss (who wasn’t being blessed with an upgrade) so I thought it might be a career-ending move. I was discreet. Kinda. I assured him that I’d meet him for a drink in the bar. (Yes, there’s a Mad Men -esque bar on the Emirates A380, where first- and business-class passengers mingle and sip fine scotch or, in my case, Cuvée Dom Pérignon 2003.
I had barely settled in my cozy suite when my host arrived to give me pyjamas, a Bvlgari care kit, some bubbles and some figs. Oh, and she also wanted to know when I wanted louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites to book my shower. Yes, shower. It’s the only passenger airline that offers such an OTT indulgence. Having louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites a shower at 35,000 feet hadn’t louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites been on my bucket list, but I quickly amended that oversight. Before heading back to the bar, I ordered my meal: I settled on a traditional Arabic mezze with moutabal, muhammara, tabbouleh and cheese sambousek, among other delicacies. The purser also insisted I try roasted halibut. After some more bubbles at the bar, I returned to the serenely lit first-class oasis for my meal. Drowsy—bubbles can do that do a girl—I eagerly accepted my host’s offer to turn down my bed. (They actually cover the flat bed with a linen-covered mattress and fluff it up with a cozy duvet. There’s also a miniature box of Godiva chocolates left within easy reach.) I climbed louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites into my little nest—and remotely closed the shuttered doors. It felt like I was sleeping in an adult bassinet with ultra-luxe gold and marble finishes. Totally private, totally serene, I was going to scan the gazillion channels on the on-board entertainment system, louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites but I actually fell asleep. I woke feeling rested—a first—and made my way to the shower. louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites The on-board spa area is the size of a small galley kitchen. The floors are heated—and there’s even a purple orchid in the shower stall. You have five minutes. (There’s a timer, so you know when it’s over.) It was a spectacular rock-star-like indulgence.
louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites I returned to my seat and had a lovely Woodland mushroom omelette and a cappuccino—two, actually. I then had less than an hour to sit quietly in my hidden little fort and dream about the days to come in Dubai. (There s an ELLE international conference starting tomorrow. Stay tuned for blogs on some of the 44 ELLE editors from around the world.) Meanwhile, I have been ruined for all future air travel. I may need to find a Saudi prince who’s interested in keeping me in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed.
Here’s how a fashion louisville kentucky hotel with jacuzzi suites and beauty fantasy day for me might unfold. First, I’d meet Alber Elbaz for an espresso and a croissant. Then Stella McCartney and I would go for a run to work off my bakery sins with Alber. At home, Guido Palau would be waiting to do my hair and then the charming Peter Philips would perform a makeup miracle. I’d then slip into a shift dress from Céline (it’s Look 10 from the fall collection, if you’re curious.) Because I’d be lunching with Haider Ackermann, I’d likely wear one of his long woven jackets. I’m thinking Look 14 would be perfect. Later that night, I’d have cocktails with Raf Simons wearing Look 5—or perhaps Look 3. And then—if I have the stamina—I’d join Karl at one of his swish afterparties. Yes, that’s pretty much my fantasy day.
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