The first and least flashy of the Viceroy Hotel Group's hotels, the 84-room Avalon has a classic main building that epitomized the California Dream of the '50s and '60s. Marilyn Monroe once lived here briefly, and the sun-splashed terraces and balconies overlooked a shimmering pool where beautiful young things lounged in bikinis. These days, the Avalon also includes two newer buildings, and the property's style is a hip homage to mid-century-modern style. Plush beds and modern amenities like CD and DVD players mix with original and reproduction pieces from that era's best-known designers (George Nelson, Noguchi, Eames). The young and fabulous can still be found here around the hourglass-shaped pool—these days, dining and sipping cocktails at the Blue on Blue restaurant.

The legendary "Pink Palace" opened in 1912, and the city of Beverly Hills literally grew around it. Today, the landmark Spanish Colonial building, still painted a garish Pepto-Bismol pink, sits on 12 acres of landscaped grounds filled with palms, banana plants, azaleas, and bougainvillea. Discreetly dotted about are the bungalows where stars like Elizabeth Taylor have from time to time taken up residence (she honeymooned with six of her husbands here). Phones are no longer carried by staffers to the booths of the Polo Lounge—sadly, cell phones have replaced that glamorous practice. Still, the chaise-surrounded pool, where Hollywood hopefuls once paid to have themselves paged in hopes of being noticed, still looks like the place where a young Marlene Dietrich used to lounge. (She would have liked the modern-day private treatment cabanas of the La Prairie spa.) Another sign of the times? The hotel's time-honored tearoom has recently been revamped into the swank Bar Nineteen 12, a stylish watering hole filled with beautiful people and young industry types. The 204 rooms, which differ in size and shape, are all furnished in plush, classic style, many with four-poster beds and marble-and-granite bathrooms with TVs. The 21 bungalows have fireplaces, separate living rooms, and dining rooms; some have pianos or treadmills. The one to book, though, is Bungalow 5, with its own private lap pool.

This historic landmark at the foot of Rodeo Drive has recently reverted to its original name (for the past 21 years, it was known as the "Regent Beverly Wilshire"). It was given a massive transformation a couple of years back, adding a spa with blue glass sinks and dramatic light effects (even the steam room has electric "stars" on the ceiling), six poolside cabanas with plasma TVs and iPods, and two stunning see-and-be-seen spots—CUT, a Wolfgang Puck steak restaurant designed by Richard Meier (where celebs like Jennifer Aniston, Vince Vaughn, and Brangelina have dropped in—though probably not at the same time), and Sidebar, the lounge across the entry-way. Facing Wilshire Boulevard, with a few outdoor tables on the sidewalk, is Blvd, the chic-casual dining restaurant with a 180-foot-long onyx bar. The 395 luxurious hotel rooms have butterscotch-colored leather headboards on the beds, and dark-wood furniture.

Jean Harlow carried on an affair with Clark Gable while honeymooning here with her husband, Harold Rosson—that's just one of many rendezvous the Chateau has supposedly played host to. Built in the late '20s in the style of a Loire Valley mansion, it was falling into disrepair by the time John Belushi overdosed and died there in 1982. In the early '90s, though, haute hotelier André Balazs took over, and it's been a hot spot ever since. Although it sits at the eastern end of the Sunset Strip, it's set so high up from the road and surrounded by such dense vegetation that it feels like a secret oasis. You never know who you'll spy sitting in the garden or lounging in a chair amid the Gothic arches of the colonnade. The 50 rooms and suites, four cottages, and nine bungalows are all unique. Suites in the main building have dressing rooms, kitchens, and dining areas; a few have working fireplaces. The decor is a mix of eras: Stickley coffee tables and Deco headboards share space with wicker chairs and Oriental rugs. The infamous Room 64, the two-bedroom penthouse in the main building, has a 1,500-square-foot terrace, where Colin Farrell was once caught making out with Britney Spears by the paparazzi. Over-the-top amenities include chauffeur-driven cars, personal trainers, 24-hour shoeshine service, and Frette baby linens.

You won't find actual farmers here, but the famous Farmers Market is just a short walk from this cute, family-owned hotel. It's also across the street from CBS Television City, where The Price Is Right is taped—lots of contestants stay here, and there's an altarlike photo display of recent prize-winning guests in the lobby. Sixty-six rooms and suites are done up in country-chic style: denim bedspreads, exposed wood floors, and small farm-themed paintings. The pool is merely adequate (don't expect lush landscaping or a view of anything, and watch out for a floating leaf or two), but the staff's helpfulness, the great location, and the price more than make up for it. Assuming, of course, you're the game-show type. Breakfast at Tart, the hotel's restaurant, doesn't hurt, either: Try the French toast stuffed with mascarpone and berries.

The Figueroa is one of the best deals in L.A. Where else can you get a one-bedroom suite with a wet bar, a silk-canopied ceiling, and handwoven Afghani kilims for under $200 per night? The downtown hotel—which began its life in 1925 as a YWCA—was decaying and depressing when the current owner, Uno Thimansson, began renovating the Andalusian-style architecture in 1976. Now, the 285 guest rooms have walls and cement floors painted in jewel tones, with handpainted tiles and Persian rugs scattered about. Some have conventional chairs and couches, others simply have pillows on the floor; the whimsical art on the walls might come from Iraq or India (or someone's idea of them). Enough with the  iPod docking stations—your room here is more likely to have a record player and a stack of 33s. The walled-in pool area is surrounded by a cactus garden and has a beautifully tiled bar.

A straw-yellow, 16-story high-rise accented with white balconies, the Four Seasons looks less like a hotel and more like one of the apartment buildings that surround it. Inside, though, it's all luxury. Rooms are decorated traditional Four Seasons–style, with rich fabrics in florals and stripes; sunlight pours through French doors that open onto Juliet balconies. The views from the fifth floor on up are spectacular, ranging from the jewel-box lights of the Hollywood Hills to panoramic city views. The fourth-floor spa and pool area is one of L.A.'s prettiest: The tiered pool is ringed by shrubs and flowers, and the blue-and-white-striped cabanas are outfitted with plasma TVs, Wi-Fi, and mini-refrigerators. Downstairs, the lobby opens onto a lush garden, where the hotel's restaurant has a discreet patio set among the greenery. During awards season, the bar overflows with recognizable faces, but star sightings (yes, that is John Malkovich having dinner) are common year-round.

The buzz was considerable in 2005 when Thompson Hotels took over this landmark Mediterranean-style hotel, where the first Academy Awards ceremony was held in 1929. One reason: The 300 rooms and suites were redesigned by Dodd Mitchell—L.A.'s pet designer for the last decade. The other reason: The poolside Tropicana Bar and interior club Teddy's were taken over by nightlife impresario Amanda Demme, and quickly became the hottest spots in town. But though the marriage with Demme ended in a high-profile divorce in spring of 2006, the hotel still has plenty to recommend it. Mitchell's decor in the main hotel, as well as in a newer, separate building that surrounds the pool, is undeniably chic: Beds have draped-fabric headboards that look like Roman shades; the streamlined furnishings in shades of taupe and black seem both brand-new and retro; framed photographs of celebrities hang on the walls; and cement showers (a Mitchell trademark) are in some of the bathrooms. Lower-floor units have patios that open onto the pool, while upper floors have balconies with tables and chairs. The nightlife scene has cooled; while Teddy's is still filled with young Hollywood starlets, the Tropicana has quieted into a romantic, relaxed place for drinks.

An extreme makeover has turned an aging Los Angeles icon, the 1971 circular tower at the 405 freeway's Sunset Boulevard off-ramp, into a sleek 209-room property, the first SoCal foray for Bay Area–based Joie de Vivre hotels. A thick steel-and-glass barrier minimizes the endless whoosh of traffic, and even during rush hour the intimate pool area with its outdoor fireplace feels as private as a Bel Air estate. Low ceilings and ice machines in the hallways recall the building's previous incarnation as a Holiday Inn, but the overhauled rooms pick up considerable height, and the masculine-toned space is softened by pillowtop beds and lots of sunshine. There's free Wi-Fi, and chauffeured Cadillac Escalades offer guests free lifts to the immediate surroundings, including the hilltop Getty Center. Staff are unfailingly friendly, including at the top-floor West restaurant.

After a $50 million renovation, the Hotel Casa del Mar opened in 1999 next to its sister hotel, Shutters on the Beach. But while Shutters has a beach-house aesthetic, the 129-room Casa, which was a private beach club in the 1920s, is done up in grand Mediterranean style. There's a stately marble lobby and a pool suspended above the sand on a wide terrace; rooms have overstuffed toile sofas and bamboo-and-wood headboards, and each has a plush chaise at the end of the bed. The white marble bathrooms with big whirlpool tubs have frosted-glass windows that can be opened onto the bedrooms (each room's "Chill Bar" includes toiletries like gel masques and bath crystals—although they'll cost you extra). The three duplex penthouse suites all have fireplaces; one has its own exercise room. On the fourth floor is the Murad Spa—although massages can also be had in poolside cabanas—and the 75-seat, first-floor restaurant, Oceanfront, has spectacular sunset views. The hotel's once mediocre service, like the decor, seems to have undergone an overhaul—staffers are now attentive and solicitous.

The reincarnated Huntley is one of those rare Southern California hotels that provide both eye candy and genuine savoir faire. An arty, sea-inspired lobby has coral motifs and a stingray-hide front desk, and the outdoor seating area with its roaring fireplace is an urbane take on the beachside bonfire. Guest rooms, reminiscent of late 1940s Japanese Deco, are equipped with 42-inch flat-screen TVs, DVD players, safes wide enough to hold a laptop, and wireless Internet access. The view from the penthouse restaurant and lounge—soon to be relaunched with a pan-Asian menu—is a 360-degree panorama of nearly everything that locals hold sacred: the Malibu coast, Venice Beach, and far-off Hollywood. There's no pool, but the Santa Monica strand is a block away—ask for a towel at the concierge desk.

Located in the high-rise Century City complex, built in the 1960s on the west side of L.A, the Hyatt Regency isn't only well priced and well placed, it also has enough charm to lift it way above your average business hotel. (Perhaps that also helped endear it to the National Trust for Historic Preservation, which recognized the hotel's importance by adding it to the 2009 list of Most Endangered Places in America.) Yes, there's the fully equipped business center and on-site Hertz desk, but there are also resortlike amenities, including X bar, a hip watering hole frequented by the CAA agents who work across the street; an in-house restaurant with a surprisingly good sushi bar; and a new infinity pool located in the hotel gardens, surrounded by six cabanas with ceiling fans, free Wi-Fi, sound system, and plasma TV ($75 per weekday, $150 on weekends). The fitness chain Equinox runs the hotel's full-service spa and fitness center, and the Century City Mall, a favorite local shopping haunt, is just across the street. The boutiques and restaurants of Beverly Hills aren't far, either, but the reasonable prices at this urban retreat make it seem worlds away from the $500-a-night minimums in 90210. The 726 generously sized rooms outdo the typical business hotel with warm hues and big closets, complete with plush robes. And if you have kids in tow, a trio of wading pools in the outdoor gardens will keep toddlers happy for hours.

Once the home of an owner of the Chicago Cubs, this green-roofed, hilltop Georgian colonial looks out on Avalon harbor—"the views leave you breathless." Rooms come with floral prints and four-poster beds, and some have fireplaces and balconies. Only breakfast and lunch are served; in the evenings, guests enjoy snacks, fruit, and wine.

(6 rooms)

The Bel Age Hotel has recently been refurbished into the coolly sophisticated London West Hollywood, courtesy of Irish designer David Collins, the man behind such lauded interiors as London's Wolseley restaurant and the Connaught Bar. Even the entry-level options among the 200 all-suite accommodations are nicely sized, and many come with terraces that overlook the Sunset Strip, while the One-Bedroom Suites—complete with a fully stocked wet bar, lounge, and dining area—seem tailor-made for civilized cocktail parties. Mod furnishings include velvet chaise sectionals and a breezy palette of bleached oak, pale greens, and whites. Not from the Noël Coward era, however, are the amenities: All rooms are equipped with flat-screen TVs, iHome players, free Wi-Fi, and complimentary phone calls to London—a subtle nod to the hotel's British origins. While it's certainly not a theme hotel (don't expect to find any Beefeaters manning the door), there's a heavy Anglophile vibe to the place, similar to its East Coast counterpart London NYC. Tea is served every afternoon in your suite or by the rooftop pool; twice a week, the hotel's English bulldog, Garbanzo, greets guests in the lobby.

Stretching out on a chaise by the Luxe's pool gives you a perfect view of the white travertine Getty Center just up the hill; the leafy hillside property is peaceful enough to make you forget that the hotel's actually just a stone's throw from the massive 405 Freeway. The 161 rooms are similarly serene, with a minimalist aesthetic outfitted in shades of chocolate, taupe, and cream. All have iPod docking stations, flat-screen TVs, and Wi-Fi, and many rooms have private terraces (although some abut the hotel's parking lot, visible through the shrubbery). The Café Bel-Air is inviting, with an outdoor seating area soothed by the sound of a wall cascade and shaded by a rollaway canvas. The spa offers Naturopathica facials and 16 types of massage.

Set in a neighborhood of striking architectural landmarks (including MOCA and the Walt Disney Concert Hall), the 1923 Biltmore is a sprawling hodgepodge of Mediterranean, Spanish, and Italianate influences—designed to elicit awe rather than to represent any one style. What's truly awesome, though, are the hotel's dramatic interior common spaces. The lobby has golden travertine walls, soaring ceilings of gold leaf and coffered wood, ornate rococo bas-reliefs, and an enormous fountain (surrounded by tables where high tea is served in the afternoons). The Gallery Bar and Cognac Room, with their wood-and-brown-leather decor and faintly erotic murals, resemble an exclusive gentlemen's club; and the basement health club manages to evoke both a majolica-tiled Egyptian temple and a cruise ship. Unfortunately, the 635 guest rooms and 48 suites are relatively uninspired. Though generous in size, with seating areas and large closets, they're furnished a bit frumpily, with overly ornate antique reproductions and heavy swagged drapes. Bathrooms are on the small side, and the art on the walls is hopelessly cheesy. Still, if old-school grandeur is what moves you, you'll get a lot of bang for your buck here.

A small fortune was spent trying to give Beverly Hills' newest luxury hotel a stately, Old Hollywood luster—but the terra-cotta roof and Mediterranean facade give it more of a McMansion-y feel than a glamorous Spanish Colonial look. The interiors, however, with their rich fruitwood floors and copper ceilings, are at once intimate and elegant. The 201 guest rooms are spacious and understated, and while the traditional dark woods and gold-and-white palette are meant to evoke bygone days, the proprietors haven't forgotten about high-tech musts like LCD screens in the marble bathrooms. Here, at Beverly Hills' first new luxury playground in nearly two decades, it's the little things that count: VIPs get their initials monogrammed into their pillowcases; cabana boys come around to clean your sunglasses at the pool; and there's a chauffeured Maybach at your disposal for dashing over to Neiman's. There's also a trio of top-notch dining options including the informal Parq, as well as the higher-end, tasting-menu dining room Muse. All food is overseen by John Cuevas, who comes from swanky sister property the Montage in Laguna Beach. And what would a 90210 hotel be without a hopping rooftop pool, cabana scene, and the 20,000-square-foot Spa Montage? This is the hotel for Peninsula and Regent Beverly Wilshire faithfuls looking for a something new, with the added benefit of a sprawling spa. It's all very "Mister" this and "Sir" that, which can feel a tad stuffy, but if it's an old-school kind of place you're after, perfect for traditional afternoon tea, you've come to the right spot.

Just down the street from busy Wilshire Boulevard, the 49-room Mosaic is a refreshingly relaxed, low-key oasis in a neighborhood of trendy self-consciousness. There's a peaceful garden courtyard with a small heated pool, and an airy restaurant-bar area that's romantically candlelit at night. The mosaic motif is used subtly in the decor, which is otherwise of the streamlined cream-and-earth-toned school. Rooms have super-comfy beds with down comforters and Fili D'oro linens, iPod docking stations, and—why don't more hotels have this?—safes that can accommodate laptops. Bathrooms have rainfall showerheads and Bulgari toiletries. The four one-bedroom suites have 42-inch plasma TVs. In short, the property has all the amenities of trendier hotels, but none of the attitude.

Snuck in among the posh apartment buildings on the north end of Santa Monica's beachfront boulevard, the revamped Oceana looks and feels more like a home. This palm-shaded complex—set around a heart-shaped pool—is an unassuming 70-room seaside retreat that attracts a mix of couples, families, and showbiz execs. Stuffed with brightly colored sofas and offbeat artwork, no two rooms are exactly alike, and most are fairly roomy. While all the usual mod cons are there (flat-screen TV, Wi-Fi), someone has also taken the time to outfit each room with books that one might actually pick up. Guests can relax alfresco around a fireplace beside the pool or in an Ocean Lounge that does triple duty as library, restaurant (the menu is a blend of traditional steak and lobster, and New Age bites like hamachi tuna carpaccio), and bar (whose trademark milk shakes are infused with vodka or rum). But Oceana's trump card is location: Palisades Park and the beach are across the street; Santa Monica Pier and the shop-filled Third Street Promenade are within walking distance.

Tucked away amid quiet gardens just west of Beverly Hills' main drag, this hotel has the impeccable and invisible service you'd expect from a Peninsula outpost—everything is anticipated and attended to. Many a power breakfast has taken place in the dining room, and the open-air rooftop restaurant and lounge, with its huge open fireplace, is a fantastic place to be at sunset. In addition to 144 opulent rooms decorated with a tasteful mix of floral and striped upholstery and pale-yellow walls, there are 16 private garden villas with fireplaces and terraces. Suites have hardwood floors and expansive balconies. The lavish new spa has striking textured-glass-covered walls, lavender sachets in each locker, and French doors that open off the treatment rooms to views of the hills.

A favorite of fashion designers during awards season, L'Ermitage is tucked discreetly away at the edge of downtown Beverly Hills (where celebrities and designers can agonize over what to wear in private). The 119 rooms are serenely modern, with blond sycamore paneling and minimalist platform beds covered in down duvets. All have 40-inch flat-screen TVs, complimentary Wi-Fi, bedside climate and lighting controls, and (slightly creepily) an in-room motion sensor that allows the front desk to know when you're in your room but don't want to be disturbed. The rooftop pool area has glorious 360-degree views of the city and mountains, as well as cabanas and lounge chairs; the equally relaxing Living Room lounge is a perfect place for drinks and canapés in front of the fire. A major plus here is that the hotel refrains from the usual nickel-and-diming; local and 800 calls are complimentary, and there's no big markup on room service.

Shade is a sun-drenched blend of by-gone beach scene and daring West Coast design aesthetic in a habitual L.A.-area hot spot. The 38 rooms are both ultracomfy and intriguing, with goose-down duvets, two-person hydrotherapy bathtubs, and state-of-the-art margarita blenders; some have tubular fireplaces for those chilly winter nights at the beach. The lobby and Zinc Lounge offer a modern take on maritime decor, with seafoam-green fabrics and chandeliers fashioned from sea urchin shells. There is no restaurant per se, but Shade's kitchen turns out tasty small plates like Brie-and-artichoke fondue. Head up to the rooftop Skydeck, where a tiny pool affords views that extend from Catalina Island to the Malibu mountains.

Shutters feels like a rambling seaside villa that's been plucked from Martha's Vineyard and dropped onto the boardwalk below Santa Monica Pier. Though the beachfront location is matched by that of its next-door sister, Hotel Casa del Mar, Shutters has a much breezier, more casual vibe. The lobby is like an oversized living room, with comfy couches around a fireplace for evening drinks, reading, and sunset-watching. The 186 rooms, while certainly plush—all have Oriental carpets; high, pillow-top beds; flat-screen TVs; and iPod docking stations—also have a sort of beachy aesthetic, with blue-and-white upholstery and white shuttered French doors you can open to the salt air. Some of the dozen one-bedroom suites have their own fireplaces. The bathrooms are large, with whirlpool tubs and a fun assortment of toiletries (available for a price), including rubber duckies. The downsides: Some ocean-view rooms actually look over an ugly rooftop before the Pacific comes into focus; a few others overlook the street or a parking lot. And the small, charming pool area on the third floor is always crowded. A better bet: Head to the beach and people-watch at Pedals Café instead.

Sam Nazarian, the nightlife wunderkind behind some of L.A.'s buzziest venues (Katsuya, Area) has splashed onto the hotel scene with SLS, his 297-room shrine to high design and high jinks. Nazarian tapped design god Philippe Starck to give the former Le Méridien a $230-million gussying up that's both whimsical and clever. Love it or hate it, there's no denying that the details are impressive. The lobby is decked out with hundreds of mismatched chairs and chandeliers, quirky artwork, and acrylic-glass deer heads above the fireplaces. In addition to seven fitness suites (each with its own personal fitness center), there are 32 allergen-resistant rooms that come with air purifiers and charcoal-filter showerheads. The standard rooms are generously sized and (compared with the boisterous public areas) nicely restrained, with a muted green-gray palette. If you find the 40-inch Sony plasma TV is getting in the way of your room's aesthetic, it can be folded away behind a sleek mirrored wall. A communal pool table on every floor is the perfect place for party people to mingle. SLS guests—a mix of high-end scenesters and creative types—have their own private lobby entrance and dining room, safely tucked away from the hoi polloi. The public lobby is a bustling party space anchored by the hotel's restaurant (helmed by El Bulli alum José Andrés) and a retail space curated by Moss. The Bazaar—as this retail/dining point is called—is frequented by The Hills cast members and the people who can afford to buy them drinks. If sipping on liquid nitrogen cocktails and nibbling cotton-candy foie gras dispensed from custom-designed street carts isn't your scene, you can always hit the town. Guest status at the hotel means you get preferential ressies at Nazarian's other hot spots, including S Bar, Foxtail, and Hyde.

One look at the platoon of valets in black berets, the barely lit lobby, and the bouncer stationed at the cocktail lounge and you'd be forgiven for thinking that the $40 million renovation did little more than turn this 17-year-old former faux-château into yet another slick and soulless hostelry. But once you leave the ground floor, the hotel's entire character changes. The 295 rooms are flooded with light, and the decor—buttery yellow walls, blond wood accents, ivory lacquered chests—is a grown-up take on California style. The service is just as polished. The decor at the restaurant, Simon LA, may border on over-the-top—tented cabanas and chartreuse leather banquettes—but the food doesn’t disappoint. All the more proof that though the hotel's address may officially be Beverly Hills, it's all Hollywood.

An affordable bastion of cool aimed at the business traveler, the Standard is nothing if not amusing. Once headquarters of Superior Oil, the 12-story, 207-room hotel starts its room categories with "Cheap" (for the future mogul) and works through "Humongous" to "Wow!" and so on. All rooms have platform beds with down comforters and minimalist decor offset by wildly swooping op-art stripes, and many have baths fit for exhibitionists—with tubs in the rooms or showers walled in clear glass. Down in the marble lobby, a 150-foot-long, Schiaparelli-pink couch has different sections set at different heights—and, of course, a photo booth. These days the bar scene on the roof is mostly downtown professionals working out the kinks of a day at the office, but there's also a smattering of artists and other cool types.

This landmark 1929 art deco apartment tower was the on-and-off home of everyone from Howard Hughes to John Wayne to Truman Capote. After narrowly escaping demolition, it was revived in the late '80s as a hotel with kitschy Deco reproductions—until Jeff Klein of New York's City Club saved it again in 2006. Now, the hotel has brand-new modern interiors that quietly compliment the building’s great bones, and a low-key glamour that appeals to the discreetly rather than flamboyantly fashionable. Most of the 74 restful rooms in shades of cream and soft brown have floor-to-ceiling casement windows and fantastic views of the strip, while some suites have balconies hidden behind the building's gargoyles. A bit sceney in the early evening, the walnut-paneled Tower Bar (in what was once Bugsy Siegel’s apartment) is straight out of old Hollywood with private nooks, old-school service, and a jazz pianist. The terrace restaurant, overlooking the small but pretty pool, has wicker furniture, limestone floors, and lots of light—and Capote would definitely have approved of the bustling spa with its white marble hammam and plush, private treatment rooms.

This 162-room hotel was so hot when it opened in 2002 that it immediately became the Viceroy Group's flagship hotel. (To capitalize on its popularity, they even rebranded their Palm Springs property a Viceroy.) The hotel lobby and pool area, where renting one of the striped cabanas for the evening is a major investment, became the only place to be during weekends on the West Side; getting in required being a guest at the hotel or being on the exclusive V.I.P. list. These days, although the hotel is still a see-and-be-seen spot, it's no longer the circus it was. Throughout, Viceroy Group designer Kelly Wearstler's fresh, sophisticated decor is white and black, with bright-green accents (both of the plant and upholstery variety); even the slightly kitschy details in the guest rooms (basket-weave-print wallpaper; porcelain dog-shaped lamps) are somehow tastefully incorporated. The best rooms are on the upper floors, with views of the ocean a couple of blocks away—but all have glass coffee tables and chairs, high beds with Italian linens, flat-screen TVs, and CD and DVD players. There's no spa, but in-room treatments are offered from trendy Fred Segal Beauty; the restaurant, Whist, is excellent though needlessly pricey.