A small collection of fully appointed apartments in Midtown Manhattan, built for travelers who want a home, not a hotel. Stay three nights or three weeks — cook breakfast, work from the kitchen table, come and go without crossing a lobby.
We're not a hotel pretending to feel residential, and we're not an Airbnb pretending to be hospitality. We're somewhere in between, on purpose. Every apartment is independently designed and operated by the same small team — no chain playbook, no corporate standards, no rotating staff. We chose the linens, picked the knives, wrote the neighborhood guide ourselves. We're priced like a great hotel and serviced like one, but the experience is closer to staying in a friend's apartment — if that friend had excellent taste and a building in Midtown. What we are not: a coliving brand, a serviced-apartment chain, a budget play, or a "boutique" hotel in the way that word has been hollowed out. We're independent, we're small, and we'd rather have ten guests who get it than a hundred who don't.
A few archetypes: The repeat New York visitor — comes to the city three or four times a year, has stayed at the Mark and the Carlyle, is tired of hotel rooms but won't gamble on an Airbnb. Wants the address and the standards, without the lobby. The extended-stay traveler — in town for two weeks of meetings, a Broadway run, a medical procedure at Sloan Kettering, a sabbatical. Needs a full kitchen,
Warm, quiet, intentional. Pre-war bones, modern restraint. Linen sheets, wood floors, soft light. Cappuccino from a Marzocco, not a Keurig. The kind of place where the front door has a real key, not a plastic card. Not loud, not branded, not trying. Confident enough to be plain. Generous enough to be detailed. Apartmento meets Aman. The Carlyle if it lost the formality. A pied-à-terre, by the week
The Sixty Two started because we couldn't find what we wanted when we traveled to New York. Hotels felt anonymous after night three. Airbnbs were a gamble — sometimes great, often grim, never reliable. The serviced-apartment brands felt corporate. The "boutique" hotels mostly weren't. We wanted somewhere that felt personal at the scale of a small hotel, with the standards of a great one. The reference points are deliberate. 17 John, downtown, for the editorial calm and the confidence to let typography carry the brand. The Carlyle and the Mark for what uptown New York hospitality felt like before chains flattened it. The Marlton, the Greenwich Hotel, the Lower East Side's Ludlow — independents that proved a small operator could compete on taste without competing on scale. Internationally: Le Pigalle in Paris, the Bürgenstock's older buildings in Switzerland, the Marrakech riads where you walk through a real door into a real home. The magazines we keep on the counter say it best — Apartamento, Cereal, Kinfolk in its better years, The Gentlewoman. Midtown is a deliberate choice and an unfashionable one. Most independent operators chase downtown — Soho, Tribeca, the East Village. But the best blocks in Midtown — the side streets in the 50s and 60s, the pre-war buildings off Madison and Park, the quiet stretches walking distance to Central Park, the Met, MoMA, Bryant Park — are some of the most underrated real estate in the city. Tourists pass through Times Square and decide they hate Midtown. Locals know better. The building itself is a pre-war Midtown apartment building — high ceilings, original details, the kind of bones you can't fake. We took a small number of units and built them out as we'd want to live in them: full kitchens with real equipment, linen sheets, working desks, blackout curtains that actually black out, espresso setups, in-unit laundry. The same small team operates every apartment. There's no front desk. There's a host on text, 24/7, who is a real person who will actually answer.
| Address | 341 East 62nd Street, New York, New York, 10065, US |
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| Neighborhood | Lenox Hill, Upper East Side |