XV Beacon

Hotel description

Boston needs to grow young, in the same way many of us need to grow up. Somber, red bricked, brown stoned, the keystone of New England dignity — it's almost as though the Puritans are still in residence. Enter XV Beacon (pronounced Fifteen Beacon, for those who forgot their Roman numerals), the new sign of the youthful (and moneyed) times. In the heart of the blue-blooded Beacon Hill neighborhood, XV Beacon is a forward-thinking hotel—and the first major “boutique” hotel in Boston—for those entrepreneurs to whom fashion, cutting edge design and technology are actual concerns.

There's a fax and three telephones in every room, and 24-hour room service for refugees from faraway time zones. In your bathroom, there's every sort of beauty product imaginable: not the Chanel creams that you would imagine in the dressing tables of Boston grand dames, but cheerfully luxe, animal friendly products for both sexes — buckwheat eye pillows, peppermint foot lotion, vegetable oil soaps, and even an aromatherapy jet lag package. But XV Beacon, despite its hipness, remains a Boston hotel. Call it snobbish New England with a twist. The restaurant, appropriately nameded The Federalist, serves up clam bakes and beef Wellington alongside its sauteed abalone. Its wine cellar of over thirty-one thousand bottles would please any old school palate. And the sixty dignified and private rooms give the hotel a feeling of a rather elite club. The building—original Beaux Arts, all cast iron and limestone—fits effortlessly into the la-di-dah old fashioned architecture of the neighborhood.

But nothing says Boston Modern more than the décor. Throughout is the coffee palette of old New England — silver, mocha, tan, cream. The original cast iron elevator takes you to your floor. The bedrooms are gentlemanly, outfitted in dark wood and velvet bedspreads, with four-poster canopy beds and fireplaces, adding a homely touch but fully functional (and welcome) when it's snowing. Nonetheless, it's not your mother's hotel (she'll be having tea across the street at the Four Seasons). The fireplaces are floating stainless steel, and the candlesticks on your coffee table are two feet tall.

While marble busts are usually forbidding, at the Beacon they are oversized and jammed into the most unusual spots, lending a playful touch. The same goes for the broken columns scattered about on the floor at The Federalist. XV Beacon is no hyper-modern industrial design fantasy. Rather its style is reminiscent of turn of the century surrealism, using familiar objects in an offbeat manner that's more René Magritte than Karim Rashid. Boston isn't ready for Barbarella sofas, nor should it ever be, as its old-fashioned Yankee aesthetic is integral to its charm. You don't love Boston for its edge, you love it for its history, and in some small part, you love it for its stodginess. Despite its stylishness, at this hotel, you'll still feel very much part of this bean town.