I am probably the only person in the world who never fancied Eloise. Maybe it’s the mommy factor. I’ve always been bothered by the way she was dumped at The Plaza Hotel, along with her nanny, while her mom lived the good life in Paris, though admittedly it’s a parenting strategy I’ve contemplated.
Still, when Savannah got invited to an Eloise themed birthday party at the world famous hotel, I was excited. It was The Plaza, after all.
As I went to fetch her from the hotel’s steps yesterday, my enthusiasm was readily apparent.
“Did you have fun at the party?” I asked, hoping she would share details of the fancy lunch.
“Kinda,” she said, displaying typical kid boredom.
Savannah has always been a party girl. I’m convinced she’ll be the co-ed caught at Spring Break on a Girls Gone Wild Video, so was dismayed by her response.
“Wow, you got to party in the same place as the Beatles,” I pressed on.
“Yea, I saw a picture of them in the hall,” she said. Clearly, not impressed.
In 20-some years in NYC, I’ve been in The Plaza Hotel, a handful of times: once to use their bathrooms, another time for a client’s press event, and lastly to have the ultimate New York experience – a martini at the famous Oak Room. All these events happened well into my 30s. Savannah is 7.
Racing across 57th Street in the rain to catch the subway home I realized there’s something to be said about those cheesy birthday parties I had at home with my cousins growing up in Ohio.