SoHo is the only area in Manhattan without skyscrapers. The tallest buildings are a modest six storeys. These light-filled warehouses were once inhabited almost exclusively by industry.

A decade ago André Balazs, hotel impressario and owner of LA’s Chateau Marmont, acquired a red-brick building on the corner of Prince and Mercer Streets, in the heart of SoHo. The Mercer is the first hotel to offer a taste of “loft living”, an urban signature that is original to New York City. The conventional notion of a hotel room has been abandoned. Instead every room feels like a loft, with plenty of space and natural light — exactly what attracted the artists who first gave this area its distinctive character.

A loft demands a design approach that enhances rather than fills the space. That is why Balazs chose to work with Parisian designer Christian Liaigre. The combination of handsome, pared-down furniture in African wenge wood, neutrally toned textiles, simple lamps, dark wooden floors, pure white walls, crisp white linen, and a hint of lilac leather on elegant banquettes is exactly what was needed — a subtle, clean and classic approach that steers clear of furniture fashion.

The Mercer Kitchen, a restaurant in the basement, creates the feel of eating in the kitchen. The ambience and the cuisine of chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten has made the Mercer Kitchen one of the most consistent restaurants in SoHo. The matte-black crowd of ad agency staff, art directors, photographers and fashion people may have shunted out the artists, but SoHo still has an attitude you won’t find on the Upper East Side. For Nathan Silver, author of Lost New York:

‘If anything should stand forever as a radiant image of the essential New York, it ought to be these (SoHo’s) commercial buildings.” Continually evolving in response to contemporary needs, they are “the best and purest that New York has to offer”.

The Mercer, 147 Mercer Street, New York, NY 10012 (001 212 966 6060, www.mercerhotel.com). Room rates from £250.

Soho House (right)

The façade is small, the tiny reception is not even big enough to be called a lobby, and the text on the door is smaller than an Out to Lunch sign. It’s the reverse of the “come in we want to impress you” lobby. The message at Soho House is: “Go away we don’t want you . . . unless you’re a member.”

“Charming,” you say, “what kind of hotel is this?” And that’s the point. Soho House is not a hotel, it’s a private club — the hottest private club in New York — that happens to be a small hotel.

The rules are simple: if you are not a guest, you cannot eat in the restaurant, swim in the pool, lunch on the roof, drink in the bar, watch a film in the private-screening room or chill out in the Cowshed — the club’s spa — unless you’re a member.

Film directors, writers, artists, creative types make up the member roster, and yet Soho House is not painfully arty, either. It has struck a balance between cosy and trendy. Part of the credit goes to designer Ilse Crawford, who has brought a freedom to Soho House that goes beyond established notions of style. Traditional chesterfields share the same space with Saarinen tables, Italian lamps and Danish design classics. The look is a mix of laid-back modern and iconic antique, with the odd bit of bling.