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At a press conference at the opening of the latest property in the Edition hotel empire—the Riviera Maya Edition at Kanai just outside Cancún, Mexico—documentarian Matt Tyrnauer recounted a revealing anecdote about Studio 54 impresario Ian Schrager. Schrager, who co-founded Edition Hotels in 2013 with backing from Marriott and serves as the creative force behind the brand, is a notorious perfectionist. And once, while giving Tyrnauer a tour of a soon-to-be-opened location, he noticed that a little light strip beneath an escalator was just an inch or two below where it was supposed to be, making it visible to guests. It was an error most wouldn’t notice. But Schrager was upset. “Now that,” he said, “is a fantasy killer.” And he is in the business of making fantasies come to life.
Schrager, who is oft-credited with inventing the boutique hotel category, loves the words “theater” and “magic” (he is also fond of “secret sauce”) when it comes to describing his properties. He knows how to make a desirable product like the back of his hand—entrance to Studio 54 was so coveted that someone quite literally died while trying to sneak in. And he says, correctly, that that experience in creating “the excitement in the air” around a nightclub gives him a leg up against others in the hotel business. “They’re just selling beds,” he says, “And I’m selling immersion.” He may not be selling the beds per se, but they are immensely comfy.
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The Edition Riviera Maya does immediately immerse you in Schrager’s aesthetic for the brand, which is soothing, clean, and rendered in a “disciplined palette” with the most flattering lighting imaginable (Edition selfies are unmatched). Design should be “99% invisible,” Schrager says, and he prefers the term “simplicity” to “minimalism.”
The custom-made curvy furniture is sparse yet creamy and lush, all in service of details that harken back to nature: elegant reflecting pools with trees that appear to sprout from the water; an open-air lobby with mile-high ceilings that host a vertical garden, bountiful plants swaying in the breeze; a path to the white sand beach lined with a thicket of undulating palms; an ocean pier with nets attached that let you swing over crystal-clear water, home to starfish and schools of silvery fish. Thanks to a clever platform, lounge chairs at the main infinity pool (there are multiple) appear to float. This hotel—with its private “nest” areas and massive egg-like sculptures and signature black tea scent—is very, very sexy.
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But while the Edition Riviera Maya looks, feels, and smells like other hotels under the Edition umbrella, it’s also filled with thoughtful touches that remind guests they are in fact in Mexico, and not just at an anonymous resort. The lobby bar sits in front of huge wooden shelves filled with locally sourced sculptures; the structure of the spa is inspired by the circular structure of local cenotes, stunning natural pools inside caves (the Edition offers special expeditions where you can dive into the fresh water, in darkness broken by natural skylights). Native plants serve as decor—by the ocean, beach naupaka plants are planted so carefully that their shadows look like art installations, and greenery peaks through gauzy curtains in treatment rooms for massages and facials. The hotel’s culinary and beverage programs are run by award-winning Mexican chefs Tomás Bermudez and Francisco Ruano, serving modern variations of fresh local cuisine.
The hotel’s opening weekend (which I privately nicknamed in my head as influencer summer camp) was lovely. There was beach time and pool time and a party with fireworks DJ’d by Kaytranada. At a rooftop pool party in an obscenely lavish penthouse suite, supposedly the largest in North America, podcaster and DJ Jason Stewart (aka Them Jeans) played the music I personally wished to hear: i.e. Madonna, Björk, and Lily-Rose Depp’s seminal jam from HBO’s The Idol, “World Class Sinner,” better known as the “I’m just a freak yeah” song. I fell asleep during a heavenly facial, and used the spa’s incredible indoor series of pools, a jacuzzi, cold plunge, and hydro-massage situation. (Although I couldn’t figure out how to turn the powerful jets off and shrieked loudly as a movie director and her artist husband looked on in horror and disgust.)
Out of 182 guest rooms and suites, I managed to nab one with an enormous private lap pool, where I swam at least twice a day. I took phone calls while naked in that pool, drank smooth tequila out of a chocolate shot glass while naked in that pool, watched the sunrise and sunset while naked in that pool, and made travel arrangements for a family funeral while naked in that pool. The pool was perhaps the best thing that has ever happened to me, followed shortly by climbing into a cotton candy-fluffy hooded Edition robe. My one regret from the weekend is that I didn’t purchase it. I am sorry if anybody saw me being naked a lot. But I think that’s exactly the kind of carefree spirit Schrager would encourage.
