© 2008 Rough Luxe

As the global economic crisis plays out, the notion of luxury is clearly up for repositioning. Do you feel guilty about a massage, a fancy handbag or business class travel? Must authentic luxury also be swanky or indulgent? Will morality force luxury underground? Whether it is in shiatsu, gourmet dining or high-end consumer goods, we use the word with a nod toward momentary feelings of cocooning, being treated briefly as kings and queens.

Luxury consumption can convey an I’m-richer-and-smarter-and-cooler-than-you syntax, and yet many of us who rent our luxury in well-earned temporary snatches do not rely upon it, and desire nothing more than occasional, democratic access to it.

I like to think that everyone should taste and enjoy luxury, in a spirit of renewal. My voluptuary spirit says we should take our eyes off harsh realities from time to time, perhaps in part an innate bacchanalian need and a means of getting through hard times.

The culture commentator Stephen Bayley confirms this when he says luxury is about experience, not accumulation. After ten years of brand-conscious acquisition in a time of abundance, less is indeed beginning to feel like more. In his book, Meaning of Things, Deyan Sudjic describes the unfortunate transition of luxury from respite and a form of solace to a sign of status.

And so instead perhaps a new kind of rough luxury emerges, where authenticity gives depth of meaning, rather than, say, the absurdly superficial mollycoddling of a Las Vegas hotel. The mind is engaged, not just the body, as something real is offered: the anchor of a sense of place and culture, and where care and good will are also part of the package.

In London’s Kings Cross the first “rough luxe” hotel has opened, and I’d rather stay in such a place. It helps that the building is old, and its restoration shows its history. It’s a personal and real place with depth of character; there are no fake columns or equally phony staff who show little genuine personality.

Here is my fantasy of luxury: an outdoor bath with a view of the mountains; a shiatsu massage; my handmade table all set to enjoy a long lunch with family and friends, in a welcoming kitchen with a beautiful work of art above the fireplace. It’s a combination of respect for objects and place, and a real experience shared with those I love and admire.