Editor’s Note: With the recent refresh of OPUS Vancouver’s suites, we’ve asked the fictional muses behind our five lifestyle décor schemes to write our next few posts. The second comes from New York doctor Mike, along with the above video showcasing the new design of his suite.

Mike gets upstaged

Okay, this is the last time I invite Anna Nicole on a trip. The little bitch has upstaged me at every turn, most recently with kee-ute Parisian guy I was checking out in the lobby while he was checking in. But he only had eyes for her, and she wasn’t exactly shy about returning the affection.

Look at her now, gnawing so innocently on that Milk Bone. Maybe it’s for the best that Steve and I are taking a break – I can only handle one princess at a time. Hmmm … wonder how he’s doing now?

Wait – my suite looks different. Feels bigger, brighter … the color is lighter. That big oak cabinet – gone! I’m liking this translucent divider. And what’s this – a king bed? Awesome.

Hey Anna Nicole, what do you say we shack up together tonight?

She doesn’t look enthusiastic. I think she’s pining for Pierre, the little tart.

At least I’m not stuck at the convention hotel this time. In Chicago I got pressured into having dinner with the other gynies, and it was so eye-stabbingly dull I faked sick and left early. An hour later, I’m heading out clubbing in a muscle shirt and tight jeans when I run smack into the guys in the lobby. “Feeling better are we, Mike?” one says, and they all crack up. Awkward.

Well, princess has to pee, so I’m going to fire up this Nespresso machine, brew a double shot, and take her down for a run – she just loves to see and be seen on the seawall. After that it’s a quick pre-party pump in the fitness room and then dancing at 560. Hey, maybe Pierre will be there …

What’s that, Anna Nicole? Sorry, sweetheart – no dogs allowed.

-Mike

I have just spent an evening at your trendy little address in Vancouver and felt I should convey my observations for the sake of fellow travelers, loungers and food lovers.

A little selective disclosure: I travel extensively, have enjoyed all manner of lodgings, from the piteous to the posh, and have come to appreciate good food and fine wine. In short, according to your Lifestyle Concierge quiz, I am “Pierre”, right down to my strong preference for all things French. That you were able to peg my profile so closely borders on privacy invasion – if it weren’t so flattering.

First impressions: If your staff were any more accommodating, I might believe they actually enjoy what they do (perhaps they get paid too much – you might want to look into that). “We’ll have our hotel car take you there.” “I’m sure we can launder your shirt for this evening.” “We’ll see what we can do about finding a replacement sock.” (Don’t ask.) It all got to be a bit tiresome, I must say. I take great pleasure in finding fault, and deeply resented being deprived of such.

A hotel reveals itself not all at once but in layers of nuanced and subtle detail, like a beautiful woman or, in culinary terms, an onion. Take your fitness room. Bright and well equipped indeed, but was that larger-than-life, nude mural near the entrance meant to motivate or mock me? The closest I will ever get to becoming this Adam of Eden was one of the complimentary apples, which at first seemed like a consolation prize, but as the evening progressed became more a symbol of temptation. Then again, I could have been reading too much into it.

As for my room, like Pierre, I approved of its “airy and fresh décor, a tad conservative, eclectic and cozy” reflecting my “tony and traditional lifestyle” (your words not mine, and if I may you’re trying just a bit too hard). However, I do have a quibble about the “intimacy kit” in the amenity drawer: thoughtful, yes, but only one prophylactic? A bit lacking for someone of my prowess. The last thing I want to worry about while in flagrante is whether supplies will run out, to say nothing of the awkward conversation with room service (you try tipping without pockets). And the oxygen dispenser? This is Vancouver for heaven’s sake, not Mexico City. Yet I had to confess it might come in handy and placed it next to the intimacy kit. As for the bathroom and its enormous window overlooking the room, I love the open concept – a little voyeuristic and naughty (parts of my profile your quiz missed) – but my 82-year-old grandmother might see it differently.

A word about your car service. The BMW 7 Series is built for speed and should to be driven as such. I was totally unimpressed with your driver’s insistence on going the speed limit and adamantly refusing my commands to cut other drivers off and jump meridians. Yes, there were small children in the area, but I was late for my fitting at Harry Rosen, and small children have never impeded my drivers in Paris. A small suggestion: send driving staff to the Grand Prix for training.

I had been looking forward to a drink at notorious hotspot Opus Bar, so was disappointed that it wasn’t busier. Yes, it was rather early, but it was cocktail hour somewhere in the world. Kristina, my sultry waitress, informed me that staff were setting up for a private party that evening, “when the real debauchery begins.” I took that thought with me to the loo, where the only thing that separates the boys from the girls, besides the obvious, is a window. My poor grandmother would have had to hold her bladder all night long. To my delight I found video screens mounted above the urinals, allowing me to spy on people in the lounge while relieving myself. Two were broken, however, and I was obliged to wait in line for one that worked, and then rejoin the line after others complained I was taking too long. Kindly repair.

Now, I’m no Anton Ego (the uber-critic from Ratatouille) but like him, I have a soft spot for simple dishes, perfectly prepared. The menu at Elixir was inventive and inviting, if a bit rich. Bypassing the lobster bisque and biodynamic risotto, I followed my inner “Ego” and chose the rib-eye, with pecorino and truffle oil pommes frites, all preceded by the poached pears, for balance of course. As I sipped an exquisite glass of Garry Oaks Fetish (you know me so well), I couldn’t help but be baffled by Elixir’s French-bistro décor and its contrast to the ultra chic Opus Bar only metres away. It was as if the two venues were competing. If they were, Opus Bar won, because as much as I love fine cuisine I love les jolies femmes even more. There, Kristina had been true to her word: by 11:00 pm the party had spilled into the lobby (ever hear of a retaining wall?) and the area resembled a mosh pit – granted, with the most beautiful and fragrant bodies one might ever be accidentally pushed against.

In the interest of discretion I feel obliged to wrap things up here. In conclusion, would I return to your hotel? Let me simply say this: If the devil is in the details, then she must have a room at Opus.

Yours truly,
“Pierre”

P.S. I’m only slightly exaggerating when I say the Tylenol and oxygen canister brought me back to life on Saturday morning. Whoever put them in the mini-bar deserves a promotion.

When I first heard that the hotel’s interior design team, led by the brilliant Robert Bailey (formerly of Architectura, now Stantec), was planning five guestroom décor schemes and 16 layouts, I thought they were crazy. With only 96 rooms, where was the economy of scale? They also planned to paint rooms red, blue, green and yellow. Colours? What about the official colour of every hotel room ever built: beige? They also casually mentioned that some rooms would have windows between the bathroom and bedroom – but no blinds, just a translucent sheer. I managed to win that battle by reminding them that some people travel with their grandmother. But the other design elements remained.

The hotel’s unique design features have made it fun to give tours. What I didn’t anticipate were the clever marketing opportunities the décor schemes presented. For inspiration, the design team created five fictional characters to represent the hotel’s typical guests, and then built rooms around them. Colours, fabrics and furnishings were selected to evoke the diverse lifestyles these personalities represented.

Think of these characters as a friend you’re coming to stay with. If you choose Susan, you’ll get a “stylish and sophisticated” blue room with curvy lamps and sexy fabrics. Susan’s a fashionista from Toronto who’s into the “see and be seen” scene. You’ll also find a selection of CDs and books to match her refined tastes (think opera, Dido and high fashion). After all, what do you do when you stay at a friend’s? You check out her CD collection and snoop through her bookshelf. Maybe you raid the fridge. But be forewarned, it’ll cost you at Opus. Just don’t steal anything like, say, towels or bathrobes or she might not invite you back.

If you’re feeling more uninhibited you’ll probably want to hang out with Billy. He’s a musician-filmmaker from London and his “artful & eclectic” room features lime green walls, whimsical art and faux rabbit-fur ottomans. Billy’s CD collection reflects his love of classic rock (think Kravitz and U2), whereas his books reflect his spiritual side (Ommm). Billy’s a party boy, so be prepared for a long night. Just don’t disturb Bob & Carol; they go to bed early. Bob’s a high tech exec and Carol’s journalist and they’re from San Francisco. Their “tony & traditional” yellow room leans toward comfort and conservative design. They’re not boring, they’re simply more mature and cultured. Oh, and Bob gets a lot of headaches. The CDs and books in this room reflect their fondness for jazz, classical music and higher learning.

Just down the hall you’ll find Mike, a doctor from New York who represents the convention traveler who breaks away from the crowd. His “modern and minimalist” room features cranberry-red walls, contemporary furnishings and edgy photography. Mike likes to dance to the divas and his leisure reading is decidedly non-medical, so be prepared for a blessedly superficial stay. But don’t get the wrong idea, ladies – sometimes Mike travels with his “friend” Steve. Upstairs in the penthouse suite you’ll find Dede, a method actress from Los Angeles and our resident drama queen. Her “daring & dramatic” suite features taupe walls, faux-fur fabrics and provocative art. Her taste in music is diverse but leans toward hip hop. She’s not much of a reader, but occasionally flips through books if there are lots of pictures. If you choose to hang out with Dede, be prepared to binge and splurge.

When Opus opened in 2002 we sent out a casting call for these characters and featured them in a photo shoot (see Billy above) and at our opening party. We’ve since tried to retire them, but people won’t let us. The concept of choosing a room to match your personality (or mood) captures the imagination. The media has written loads of stories about Mike and his friends. Currently, the characters are moonlighting as concierges in our Lifestyle Concierge program: you choose the personality that best suits your lifestyle and they tell you their favourite places to shop, dine and play in Vancouver.

What does the future hold for the Opus personalities? After almost five years, a few nips and tucks are in order. As we introduce new colours, fabrics and furnishings in our guestrooms we’ll update their profiles. Maybe Billy’s evolved into a Bono-like character who uses his fame for charitable causes. Maybe Susan’s career in fashion has taken off and she’s now alarmingly similar to Anna Wintour. As for Bob & Carol, rumour has it that Carol filed for divorce after catching Bob in Mike’s room. And Dede? Undoubtedly she shaved her head, did a stint in rehab and is building an orphanage in Malawi. We’re also planning to bring the characters out of the bedroom and into Opus Bar, where we’ll be featuring a martini inspired by each personality.

The possibilities are endless. One thing I know for sure, the Opus personalities have checked in for the long term, and they’re looking forward to welcoming lots more guests. I’d love to hear which personality you identify with most. And check out CBC’s recent story on the Opus personalities.