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There are hotels you stay in, and then there are hotels you fall in love with. On a quiet stretch of East 63rd Street, just steps from Madison Avenue, stands The Lowell, a property that does not rely on spectacle to impress but on intimacy to captivate. Once across the threshold you enter another world, one where today’s Manhattan softens, and the atmosphere of 1930s Hollywood sophistication is palpable. Unlike the city’s soaring structures with their cavernous lobbies and sweeping staircases, The Lowell whispers its welcome. Instead, a doorman greets you with genuine warmth. You are greeted by the congenial staff at a handsome marble
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