Concept: More or less the same deal as at the nearby Modern a hallway of seven minimalist cubicles outfitted with glass tiles. The kickers: Teardrop mirrors and a Calacatta-marble mosaic floor that resembles a deconstructed Copacabana boardwalk.
Privacy: Plenty of rooms to go around; we pictured ourselves drawing a $5,000 Evian bath in the first and largest one.
Amenities: On your way out, a button slowly fades the room to pitch black. An opening in the counter for paper-towel disposal eliminates unsightly waste bins. The nondrying, mildly scented liquid soap is by Floris of London, a 275-year-old brand once favored by Florence Nightingale and Mary Shelley.
Flaws: The opaque, nickel-trimmed glass doors are luminous and chic but bank-vault heavy.
Strategy: Pop open the glass panels beneath the sink and you'll find stacks of embroidered Egyptian-cotton dinner napkins. We're not saying you should steal them, but this is a hotel bathroom.
— Daniel Maurer