Although it was built in 1968, the Camino Real still has the feel of a modern grand hotel—maybe because of all the priceless works of art, such as a mural by Rufino Tamayo in the lobby. Located in a quiet, privileged neighborhood, steps from Chapultepec, the hotel's 712 rooms are divided into six "missions" (actually separate wings of the hotel); all have clean lines and sharp corners, and some have sliding-glass windows that open onto balconies. (Avoid low floors with interior views, unless you want to spend all your time in the dark.) Amenities include a gym, a pool, and nine restaurants, including a local branch of Le Cirque.

The modest name—which literally means "old house"—doesn't do justice to this ten-suite boutique hotel near Bosque de Chapultepec. There's no subdued mustiness here: The mansion is painted in bold shades of tangerine and persimmon, and the decor in the common areas, which includes flamboyant folk art from all over the country, is over the top (sometimes literally—don't miss the elaborate tiles on the lobby's vaulted ceiling). In the guest suites, which are inspired by the works of Mexican artists, every possible space is filled with hand-carved furnishings and well-chosen antiques. You might not be able to stay in Frida Kahlo's house in Coyoacán, but you can stay in the fantasy version here, done up in the colorful fabrics that she often liked to wear.

Jonathan Morr, the restaurateur (New York's BONDST) and hotelier (Miami Beach's Townhouse), knows what's hip. So it's no wonder that he was drawn to the neighborhood of La Condesa, a spot so hot that he borrowed its name for this hotel. The 1920s neoclassical building is the first—and for the time being only—hotel in La Condesa. Instead of ho-hum minimalism, interior designer India Mahdavi chose a playful mix of styles that combines everything from cowhide-covered banquettes to claw-foot tubs. The hotel—run by the same folks as the Habita—has 40 rooms, some with glass walls opening onto petite terraces. Outside there's a wedge-shaped courtyard, which is the heart of the hotel in every sense. The roof terrace (with a hole for that courtyard) was a hot spot as soon as the place opened in January 2005.

Distrito Capital is the latest venture from the team behind two of Mexico City's hottest hotels, Habita and Condesa DF. Set in the emerging commercial district of Santa Fe, near the Toluca domestic airport, it's ideal for business travelers looking to avoid the traffic of city center, but also for leisure travelers who are passing through the capital on their way to other points in Mexico. The 30-room hotel takes its inspiration from the Park Hyatt Tokyo and other hotels that float above their cities: Rooms occupy the top four floors of an office building, with reception, restaurant, and gym at the bottom. And like the Park Hyatt, Distrito has an international, cosmopolitan swagger. With the exception of the large selection of mezcals at the bar, the sleek and spare hotel wouldn't be out of place in Berlin or London. Rooms are studies in unadorned black (hallways and bathrooms) and white (sleeping areas), with soaring ceilings and large windows with views of Santa Fe and, on the occasional clear day, the volcano Popocatépetl. Ask for a corner room to double the number of views (corner accommodations are suites on higher floors and standard doubles on lower ones). We have only two complaints: First, the black walls and dressers combined with less-than-generous lighting can make it hard to find any dark items, especially if your wardrobe is also a study in basic black. Second, while this hotel could physically pass for, say, a chic Park Hyatt, the service is more warm and well intentioned than it is five-star-flawless. Distrito Capital's restaurant, from chef Enrique Olvera, founder of Pujol, is a big draw: Widely acknowledged as one of the leaders of alta cocina mexicana, Olvera here tries his hand at simpler fare—appropriate for the mood of the eclectic crowd, a mix of businessmen and fixtures of the Mexico City nightlife scene, who party until early in the morning under the glow of the Alvar Aalto lamps.

Resembling an old-fashioned hacienda—if haciendas had soared to eight stories—this hotel wraps around a central courtyard with a fountain that could have been plucked from the zócalo of any Mexican town. The fortresslike walls mean that when you're dining under umbrellas on the shaded terrace or enjoying the view from your own private balcony, there's no noise at all from traffic-clogged Paseo de la Reforma (which runs past the front door). Bosque de Chapultepec, a sprawling park dotted with museums, is within easy walking distance. The 240 rooms and suites are tasteful and elegant, with color schemes of peach, gold, or green; bold fabrics; and dark woods. The service, as you would guess, is polished and professional.

In an Art Deco building that would look right at home in South Beach, the Hippodrome has a streamlined facade that turns heads. But the beauty here is more than skin deep, as you'll notice in details such as the cage elevator that once graced the Castillo de Chapultepec. The 16 generously sized guest rooms are decorated in warm hues, with chocolate walls and shag throw rugs. The best part may be the bathrooms, which have sinks and shower surrounds fashioned from the same cream-colored stone. Most eye-catching is one of the bathrooms in the penthouse suite, which includes a porcelain whirlpool tub facing a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking a terrace running the length of the building. Stroll outside and you get a great view of the trees in nearby Parque Mexico. The hotel opened in early 2007, a few months after the Hip Kitchen. The restaurant, with a new guest chef serving up a tasting menu every two months, quickly developed a following among the locals in the fashionable La Condesa neighborhood.

Enrique Norten of TEN Architectos wrapped a '60s-era low-rise in cloudy glass and pared down the 36 rooms to the basic necessities of Dwell readers: smooth gray carpets, a glass shelf the length of one wall, stainless-steel sink, good down and linens on the platform bed, and not much in the way of storage. Off the lobby is Aura, where the food and decor share an Asian sensibility; on the sixth floor is the indoor-outdoor (mostly outdoor) bar Area. The fifth floor houses a small, glass-walled indoor-outdoor gym, plus a pretty pool that nobody uses. Beware: The weekend partying of the fresas (the young, wealthy elite) on said rooftop can leak into the surrounding rooms. The hotel is located in quiet, posh Polanco, steps from the shops and not far from Bosque de Chapultepec.

Across Paseo de la Reforma from La Condesa—in the less trendy, more authentic, but still lively Colonia Roma area—this turn-of-last-century colonial-style pink mansion has 29 adorable wood-floored rooms. Each is different (they all say that, but here it's true), and decorated with antiques and a music–commedia dell'arte theme: lutes in spotlit niches, violins and accordions instead of paintings. There's also a lounge with a wall of hunting horns, and a restaurant, Piaf, that serves French cuisine. The scant facilities amount to Wi-Fi and a fitness room, but ambience, comfort, and friendliness make up for that.

Forget the various shades of gray that distinguish many of this chain's locations. To remind you that you're in Latin America, the W Mexico City is splashed with bordello red. It's the color of the pillows in the lobby, the tables in the Whiskey Lounge, and the chairs in the Cocoa Bar. In the restaurant, Solea, red panels give you a bit of privacy. (But since this is a hipster hangout, the panels are semitransparent, so that you can still see and be seen.) And don't forget the 237 bedrooms, where red walls add a sensuous touch to rooms that otherwise would be a bit sterile. All have up-to-date amenities such as Wi-Fi (for a fee), DVD, and CD players, and a few bizarre—but pleasant—touches such as hammocks in the bathrooms. Big windows mean good views over the greenery of the posh Polanco neighborhood.