For American kids, the allure of a swimmable body of water never really dissipates, even as we age. Nowhere is this more evident than in New York City, where, as the summer heat arrives, adults are beginning to fight tooth and nail for access to a commodity more precious than gold: a hotel pool pass.
This year, the need began to present itself in the last weekends of May, when temperatures in the 90s drove city-dwellers to the Far Rockaways and Jacob Riis Park in droves. I myself made the hour-and-a-half journey on a Saturday to lay out on the sand and read Empire of Pain, flipping over every once in a while to procure an even tan, but by the long subway ride home, I was thoroughly exhausted. There had to be a better way.
Diligent pool research is a necessity at present, particularly due to a national lifeguard shortage that could render one-third of U.S. community pools unusable this summer. In New York City, where temperatures frequently rocket into the region of unbearable, this could lead to a tenuous and deeply uncool state of affairs.
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In May, NYC Parks spokesperson Crystal Howard told the New York Post that “at this time we plan to have all pools open,” but an insider added to the Post that New York City won’t have a genuinely clear sense of its pool workforce until Fourth of July weekend, when lifeguard training is complete.
Scouring the internet, I found that several luxury hotels in Manhattan and Brooklyn, including Williamsburg’s William Vale, Dream Downtown in Chelsea, Ravel Hotel in Long Island City, ModernHaus SoHo and Margaritaville Resort in Times Square all offered day passes, easily accessible via an app called ResortPass, for around $100 apiece. The next weekend, I spent hours trying to secure such a pass, but they had all been snatched up. The weekend after that, I managed to secure a Memorial Day afternoon pass for the William Vale’s pool.
“Because of the unpredictable behavior in travel this summer (e.g. rising gas and airfare prices), hotels open up availability week-by-week according to their occupancy levels and spots sell out fast,” ResortPass told The Daily Beast, also explaining that Memorial Day is usually the start date for the summer season. ResortPass is also working on onboarding several more NYC hotels to their platform, meaning more options should open up soon.
Locales like the Williamsburg Hotel and the James are synonymous with a certain type of louche, downtown glamour that connotes youthful style and sophistication; this isn’t your grandmother’s Park Hyatt. The Times Square Margaritaville pool, meanwhile, is a coveted destination if you’re an ex-blogger with a mile-wide ironic streak who loves to have a good time.
Soho House is perhaps the club that’s easiest to sneer at and the most privately coveted; you don’t want to admit you want a Soho House membership, but you do. An annual membership at Soho DUMBO House would run you around $2,500 if you’re over 27, and $1,250 if you’re under 27, which is a whole other can of worms.
The Meatpacking District Soho House pool is ringed by preppy striped lounge chairs and lovely skyline views, but like the best exclusive spaces, the vibe is largely determined by the exclusivity of its clientele. “The club’s very specific 1-percent-hipster vibe is kind of hilarious in its hypocrisy: bohemian… but make it rich,” a helpful Betches.com post explains. “Starving artist, but like, starving because it’s fashion week and I’m on a diet.”
Truly dyed-in-the-wool blue bloods head to to venues like the Maidstone Club in East Hampton, the coolly sleek Beach Club, or the trendy Crow’s Nest in Montauk; all these places connote the kind of insider status that knows better than to draw attention to itself.
Writer James Dennin has a friend who shares treasured access to the North Flushing Pool Club. “And it’s a perfect pool,” Dennin said. “Huge, cold, lots of shaded seating. Catskill/Russian resort vibes, it’s like a window into mid century vacation life. I love going there for how old it feels, but also [for] empanadas in the snack shack. And it’s the only good pool I’ve been to in the city. Actually cold and deep.”
I was, perhaps unfairly, expecting a perfect oasis at the William Vale, but, like the beach, there are upsides and downsides to hotel pool experiences. At the Vale, for example, non-hotel-guest day pass holders aren’t allotted a poolside spot, but are instead assigned chaises longues around the corner in a cordoned-off area steeped in shade. Snacks and cocktails are laughably expensive, and forget strolling around the concrete roof without sandals; I almost burned the soles of my feet clean off.
But the company was boisterous, the weather was perfect and the pool’s temperature was brisk and refreshing. I didn’t even mind that one toddler kept throwing her Barbie into the pool and swimming out to retrieve it, essentially playing fetch with herself.
This reporter reached Kwame Nash, the Pool General Manager at the William Vale, by phone on Thursday, but he wasn’t available to return my call in time to answer questions. The same was the case for many luxury pool gatekeepers around the country, few of whom responded to interview requests beyond politely declining to comment. New Yorkers, however, are teeming with tips when it comes to obtaining sweet, sweet pool relief.
“I would say that at the peak of those extreme heat waves, an invite to a pool is the perfect salve,” Happy Hour author Marlowe Granados told The Daily Beast. “But you always need to make sure you’re packing a bikini in tow because when [people] say meet you at the pool, they always mean NOW.”
“I snuck into William Vale a few times last summer,” painter Scout Zabinski told The Daily Beast. “I purposefully went on a weekday since I don’t have a 9-5. And it was pretty busy because it was one of those terrible rare 100 degree days, so I couldn’t be in the studio where I have no AC. So I just went in and acted like I was on the phone. Then when the woman in the lobby asked me what I was doing, I motioned and pointed that I was meeting other people.”
“Then I thought the coast was clear, but after I sat down by myself, the pool guys outside came over to me and asked if I checked in,” Zabinski said. “I told them I checked in with the woman inside and thank God, she said I did as well. I was scared the whole time they were gonna kick me out but THEN these guys came over to me anyway, and invited me to join their cabana. I got free tequila because they were working for a tequila mezcal brand and it just worked out perfectly.”
If Zabinksi wanted to share anonymously, this reporter would have understood, but she attached her name to the scam gladly. “I’m pretty proud of this,” she said. “I called my mom after and was like, ‘Guess what your daughter did today!’”
Around the country, there are certain private pools that earn Holy Grail status. Perhaps the most fabulous one was built for Hearst Castle, the former private residence of newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst; it’s rentable, but one almost doesn’t want to spoil the waters with one’s northern California-induced B.O.
Membership at the Bel-Air Bay Club will run you $85,000, plus monthly feeds. And Vogue touts Troutbeck in Amenia, upstate New York as possessing one of the finest hotel pools in the Hudson Valley.
Back in New York, the allure of Soho House remains undimmed, even if—truth be told—their pools in Meatpacking and DUMBO locations are not exactly massive; they are more six-pack poser paradises, rather than relaxing oases, or places to swim lengths.
Indeed, Soho House is the most fabled of swanky pools, thanks to a scene in a Sex and the City episode (“Boy Interrupted,” S6E10) in which Samantha—predictably, ultimately unsuccessfully—tries to secure a poolside pass for her, Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda, while faking being an English socialite called Annabelle Bronstein.
The episode may be almost 20 years old, but the cachet remains.
“The thing about the Soho House pool is that booking there is backwards as hell at every location,” said “a writer who works from home who thought that she could work from Soho House but some locations actually shut your computer for you at 5 p.m.”
“To go to the pool you have to book 24 hours in advance on their buggy-as-hell little app which hides the rooftop pool booking option,” the writer continued, adding that you have to continually rebook for different timed sessions at the pool throughout the day.
“If you are hot/cool enough, which luckily depending on the day sometimes I am, you have to go all the way down to the check-in desk—I mean champagne problems but it is really annoying because it’s a whole elevator trip—and sweet talk your way into them giving you another wristband for the next session.”
Soho House didn’t respond to The Daily Beast’s requests for comment.
“Both pools are pretty small, for what it’s worth, but the DUMBO House one has the sound of fans and building machinery,” the writer continued. “And there is always always always someone making out in the pool very obnoxiously and someone else in a PBR bikini. Also the food, generally, sucks.”
