The entrance is at the far side of the hotel’s Jade Bar, which seemed to mostly full of the jaded barflys who had attempted entrance into the Rose Bar. Those red curtains are guarded by the most nattily dressed “bouncers” in existence, so do not even attempt entrance if you don’t look better than them (warning: this could be a difficult task). The fabled room itself? At the risk of sounding redundant, it really is a rose room. Andy Warhol is all over the walls, except for the wall that is a massive stone fireplace, which looks like it was purloined from a Gothic castle in the wilds of Romania. There is one very classy, polished pool table. Do not attempt to put your drink on it. The bar is familiar: dark wood; DJ; countless bottles of alcohol. In the Rose Bar, though, the bottles are artfully arranged and lit, the better to seduce you, my dear, into a $19 martini or $27 cocktail. Apparently, its exclusivity extends to economic status as well.
Remember how in the old days “good breeding” guaranteed or determined acceptable social behaviors? Well if you possess the elite status required for entrance, anything you do seems acceptable in the Rose Bar, if you pay enough. Yes, young socialites, stand on our couches! Sing karaoke while standing on an armchair! It is really fine! The people-watching is quite the entertainment.
It just so happens that we were reading Mark Twain the next day and came across this: “He (Tom) had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it-namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.” We’re not in any way comparing the Rose Bar to whitewashing a fence, but generally Tom, we concur.
The Rose Bar is located at 2 Lexington Avenue. They take pride in their exclusivity and you should be prepared for the price that comes with it.