![]() ![]() an insider speculated to me that it might be as low as 5,000, hedging that even he couldn’t be sure. There are rumored to be something like 20,000 Centurion cards in the U.S. For those who spend $250,000, or maybe $350,000, or quite possibly $500,000 a year on their cards - Amex will not confirm the exact number - the Centurion card, for a $10,000 initiation fee and a $5,000 annual membership, offers unparalleled concierge services, at the ready with anything from private-jet bookings to Renaissance tickets, and all the bragging rights come from clanging down a physical metonym of one percent status. the “black” card), a mythic status symbol in the expense-account community. It exists for the more or less exclusive enjoyment of owners of the American Express Centurion card (a.k.a. The Centurion is nominally bookable on Amex-owned Resy, although I have yet to see a reservation available. And now here comes the Centurion New York, a mostly private warren of dining rooms, bars, and a “salon” 55 floors up the midtown super-tall One Vanderbilt. The San Vicente Bungalows, soon to take over the former Jane Hotel, hails from L.A. Casa Cruz, in a Beaux-Arts manse on East 61st, is a London import. Casa Cipriani, on the waterfront, hosts Saudi princesses. The mayor parties at Zero Bond, mostly protected from prying eyes as he dances with Wendi Deng. ![]() New York is once again in a clubby moment, with private hospitality on the rise. Would the Centurion have me? Doctor, they would.Įntrée was not otherwise guaranteed. As ladies bid on auction lots like a cocktail party at the Chopard boutique and a four-night stay at a wellness retreat called the Ranch at Palazzo Fiuggi, the good doctor pulled out his phone and texted a well-placed friend. Andrew Jacono - the architect of faces including Marc Jacobs’s (I am betraying no confidences here: Jacobs is happy to acknowledge his work) - was telling me that the real power spot was Centurion New York. We found ourselves seatmates at a cancer benefit at Avra, the Madison Avenue estiatorio that serves Greek salads to what remains of the uptown power-lunch elite, and Dr. It was the celebrity plastic surgeon who clued me in. ![]()
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