HOTEL TRES CALIFORNIA

Swathed in 2,000 yards of white sheer curtains, the glass lobby of the newly remodeled Mondrian on the Sunset Strip looks like something out of a dream. Which is exactly what its iconoclastic designer, Philippe Starck, had in mind. “I want the hotel to be luminescent, surreal, like inside a cloud,” he says. From the entrance, three elevators are encased in a glass cube that gives off a glamorous glow, and a lightbox mounted on one wall seems to reflect the subtly shifting colors of the Los Angeles sky. “This hotel is about light and bringing the outside in. That’s what California is all about,” adds owner Ian Schrager, who counts the Mondrian as the latest in his roster of chic boutique hotels.

By turning undistinguished addresses into palaces of style, most notably the Paramount and Royalton in New York and the Delano in Miami, Schrager and Starck are the reigning impresarios of hotel hip. Schrager delights in upsetting the hotel-design apple cart and describes the Mondrian as a “new urban resort.” The centerpiece of the lobby is a 40-foot alabaster table that’s lit from below and appears to float on curvy gilt legs. Around it are a hodgepodge of barstools by Alvar Aalto, Thonet and other designers, as well as pieces found at Paris flea markets. “Instead of facing a counter, you look at another guest,” Schrager says. “Isn’t that want you want to do in a resort--meet people?”

The Mondrian--built as an apartment complex in 1952 and converted to a hotel in 1984--has been renovated for the 21st century, but it’s reminiscent of an earlier era, when a hotellobby was more than a place to pass through on the way to your room. Schrager hopes one corner, outfitted with a synthesizer and congo drums, will attract musicians from the House of Blues next door or guests who want to jam. Loitering is also encouraged: While a whimsical mix of seating--from slipcovered Queen Anne chairs to stools that resemble giant eggs--invites conversation, other chairs with attached game tables beckon backgammon and checkers enthusiasts.

Outside are more witty touches. Gargantuan flower pots, custom-made in Italy, march down one side of the teak deck, supporting an arbor of flowering mandevilla vines. Classical music is piped into a chemical-free pool for underwater listening. And an open-air bar, made of logs and a tin roof, brings to mind a tropical hut. But the real star is the sweeping panorama of the city. “We can’t take credit for creating the view,” laughs design director Anda Andrei.

The 245 guest rooms are designed to be intimate. Each is painted in pale shades and features a kitchen (a holdover from the apartment days) stocked with, among other things, fresh oranges, a Starck-designed juicer, a pop-up toaster and baskets of teas, coffees and lemon drops. Desks are supplied with paper clips and sharpened pencils. Scented candles, wool lap blankets and vintage Screen magazines complete the list of homey comforts. Instead of reproduction prints, you’ll find original details such as decals of an eye on chairs and in the bathroom. Elsewhere, words appear on walls like subliminal messages: “Together” by the dining table, “Think” behind the desk, “Dream” above the bed. Switch on the makeup mirror, and “Me” lights up under your face.

As for furniture and accessories, imagine the generic sofas, tables and lamps that a child might draw and you have the “simple chic” or “no design” look that has become Starck’s signature. And, of course, everything is upholstered in white. Says Starck: “You’re inside a cloud, remember?”