Hotels have long been associated with sex, whether it’s Johnny Depp and Kate Moss allegedly getting intimate in each of Chateau Marmont’s 63 chambres, or Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracey’s extra-marital residence at The Beverly Hills Hotel. Yet few wear their sensuality so boldly as At Sloane, London’s answer to Paris’s Hotel Costes, with its dim lighting, mood music, heavy perfume and sumptuous interiors — it has more curtains than I’ve ever counted inside one hotel.
Even the location feels illicit: there’s only a doorman to signal that a hotel lies behind the doors of 1 Sloane Gardens, a residential enclave tucked behind Sloane Square tube, and according to staffers, several of its neighbours weren’t even aware that it was a hotel for some time.
