Luxury Briefing.

WE are are about to embark on our once-a-year journey through luxury. Traditionally it begins with what’s new and next in Paris, thence to La Colombe d’Or – that enclave of great food, and even better paintings, skirting the medieval walls of St Paul de Vence – and ends with the release of our much-awaited Luxury Futures Report, a wealthy, weighty, costly tome in which we sum up our thinking on luxury for the upcoming year – in this case 2011-12. This year our journey has been delayed: our much-loved labrador retriever and company mascot, Jasper, is seriously ill. Which means all plans are put on hold. He is as old as The Future Laboratory itself, and known to many of the maître d’s at J Sheekey, The Wapping Project, Scott’s, The Ivy and Claridge’s as ‘the Future Lab’, a dog as familiar around town for his unfailing manners and sagacious ways as his masters are for their love of luxury and fine times. It was through Jasper’s eyes that we encountered some of our earliest definitions of luxury.

Before Jasper, a walk down Bond Street was a truly frightening and nerve-wracking experience. Those thick blocks of fat called doormen, and the thin, sticks of silicone called shop assistants, were there, as we believed, to give you either the air-con smile or the scorched earth stare. After Jasper, it was a sun-filled walk of smiling doormen, shrieking shop girls, garrulous gays, and managers in Hermès (known for their coolness under pressure) losing all decorum and romping up and down the shop foor chased by a dog, to the rattle of tumbling rails. Such is luxury when it lets its hair down – fun, irreverent, giving, indulgent and always willing to have a go. Especially if there is a dog involved.

And so it was that we formed our first opinion about luxury – that it only appeared square and stuffy if you yourself were square and stuffy. But adopt a less formal personality (or, for that matter, a big, black, beautiful dog) and all is a lot different. Good luxury, we discovered through Jasper, is also about improvisation.

We were reminded of this once when we rocked up to the Groucho Club (many moons ago, when it was under Mary Lou’s and Gordana’s sway and worth rocking up to), with Jasper in tow, only to be told that no dogs were allowed. Period. But on seeing him, Jasper (due to his strange coat and docile manner) was rede?ned as a ‘dog-eared trunk’, his owners were handed a cloakroom ticket, and the trunk was allowed to join the team behind the reception desk, with water and occasional steaks sent up from the kitchen.

This has happened again and again – maître d’s variously making him a token carpet, guide dog or mobile foot rest so that he could sit next to his masters. This was luxury for him and us, and also a reminder that luxury can and should be about breaking rules, and about allowing the team that works with you and for you the freedom to make decisions based on their knowledge of the customer, and not on the rules of the brand.

Luxury is also about paying attention to the little things and the smaller details. We discovered this during a recent stay at Claridge’s with Jasper. From the time we arrived, he was recognised by the doormen, the foyer staff, the receptionist, the liftman, housekeeping and the butler. All greeted him by name, made him welcome and made sure he was well amused during his stay. They also knew when he was in and out of the building, or when we were in and out of the bar! So it was that we returned to the room to find that Nigel, the night concierge, had walked him (or taken him ‘around the block’ as he put it), or that the butler had left some treats in while we were walking him, and so on. Periodically, staff we did not know came to introduce themselves, usually to him first, offering to walk him, sit with him, take him around the block, if we were in need of half an hour or so to ourselves. (Lest you think the hotel is full of obsessive dog lovers, I noted the same attitude and deference being shown towards parents with small children, or girlfriends with overly needy boyfriends or husbands!)

In all cases the Claridge’s team seemed to understand and appreciate that the best way to a guest’s heart is via the detail you know about them, and how you use this discreetly, diligently and diplomatically – like checking to see if ‘Jasper needed a walk’ after his owners were seen to be a bit late at the bar.

Again and again, the Future Lab’s many friends made over the years – doormen, club owners, maître d’s, store managers, hoteliers – remind us of what true luxury is, and how it should behave: with a certain formality, and decorum, certainly, but with a formality and a decorum that is never intimidating or frosty. It is luxury that contains pedigree, and speaks of heritage, and one that is able to improvise and be spontaneous because it knows its true value and worth long term. It is, like the best kind of dogs, amusing, diligent, consistent and fair.

It is also a luxury that is unfailing in its attentiveness, ever vigilant in its ability to please and be pleasing, a stickler for detail. Yet it is without obsequiousness, never subservient or self-serving, and always there to help. And amuse. And occasionally there – as the Future Lab is there – to make you laugh. Happy holidays.

www.thefuturelaboratory.com

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