Amanda and Craig traveled from their home in Elkhorn to Milwaukee just for the day and in order to randomly stop in at “cool places.”
I love the spontaneity of their plan and the fact their quest for cool landed them in the Lobby Bar sipping cocktails. Amanda had been to the Pfister one time before for her sister’s birthday. They – along with a few others – went to Blu (on the 23rd floor of the hotel) and had a spectacular time.
“I just had to come back,” says Amanda. “Craig’s never been here. It’s such a beautiful hotel.”
Amanda went on to say that she was, at first, concerned that perhaps they weren’t dressed up enough to hang out at the Pfister. However, she decided to risk it and was happy to find out she was perfectly comfortable in her casual clothing.
We talked about the range of guests – and therefore the range of attire – at the Pfister Hotel. I told Amanda and Craig that when I tell people I work at the Pfister, they sometimes make a comment about how “fancy” it is. (A few even said it in a fake “rich person” voice.)
And it is fancy, I tell them, but it isn’t.
The hotel is extraordinarily opulent, from the twinkling crystal chandeliers to the stunning Victorian art collection – it’s a visual feast of history and beauty – but it’s not stuffy.
Furthermore, I spend about 10 hours a week at the Pfister and never once have I felt displaced even though I’m a pretty casual gal. I’m most comfortable in jeans and a black concert T-shirt – and I admit I upped my wardrobe game for the Narrator position (translation: I bought a blazer) – but I didn’t exactly run out and charge piles of gowns and gold adornments.
I often tell people who suggest the hotel is too lavish for their likes the story of founder Guido Pfister and how he wanted to give the city a beautiful yet comfortable gathering place. A hotel that would serve as “Milwaukee’s living room.”
And although my living room doesn’t have large lion statues or, sadly, a dapper and dedicated staff (in fact it’s kinda small and overstuffed with books and old furniture), the Pfister lobby does feel like an extension of my home at this point. Even on days when I’m wearing my Joan Jett T-shirt.
Under the blazer, of course.