What women do, and don’t, want in a hotel room

It might strike you as a little rich (pun intended) that I’m writing hotel advice from the king-size bed of an opulent suite at Claridge’s, in Mayfair, one of London’s most exclusive hotels. But I put it to you, dear reader, that it is exactly these singular experiences that give one a clear mind as to what a hotel room should offer its female guests.

Let’s start with one of life’s simple pleasures, ubiquitous in hotel rooms globally but vastly varying in standard: the humble cup of tea. Here there is no option to draw one’s own cup of English breakfast, rather one presses the bedside ‘butler’ button, and 10 minutes later, a teapot, jug of milk and two lovely cups are wheeled into the room and the tea personally poured by (as it turns out) a charming, smartly uniformed man named Matthew.

Though giddily wonderful, none of this tea porn preamble matters particularly. What ticks the box, and what can be relatively simply replicated in hotel rooms everywhere, is the decent size and shape of the cup and the quality of tea leaf (more than achievable these days with a tea bag). And a small bottle of fresh milk in the minibar fridge.

Second on my list of hotel must-haves is a door snib. My sister (at the time pregnant and feeling a little vulnerable) once had a drunk cricketer, a famous one, enter her hotel room in the middle of the night and stare down at her like she had asked for the wrong key at reception and climbed into his bed. While it makes for an outrageously funny story (he really was quite famous), it neatly illustrates how a bolt, or a little chain between door and door frame can make a woman, in particular, feel like she’s got a fighting chance against an interloper, real or perceived.

Next? All hail the Dyson hairdryer. On entering my suite, the staff pointed out the air-con switch, the ice bucket and the location of not just any old hairdryer but “the Dyson”. For anyone not in the know, these stylish hair appliances are lightweight, almost silent and miraculously effective, decreasing hair-dry time by more than half and almost always eliciting that fresh-from-the-hairdresser look.

Naturally, given their hefty price tag, it would fall to five-star hotels and resorts to provide these luxuries for guests, but there are other simple hair accoutrements that could be standard. A spare hair-band, for example, would be a joyous addition to a hotel bathroom and would have saved the day a dozen times. And God forbid when you lose your luggage, there’s a hairbrush alongside that ubiquitous wooden comb.

Come to think of it, the line-up of bathroom items offered at hotels could do with a rethink, a woman’s eye even. Cotton pads are fine, but a little bottle of face cleaner would be handy to every stay, especially when packing light. Hair caps, ear buds and sanitary bags are all well and good, but why not a spare tampon, a pad or two?

Those magnifying mirrors that people rave about are so revealing of every pore flaw that I do well not to cry, and please stop with the stark downlights in hotel bathrooms, the fastest way to ruin a woman’s holiday. Instead I’d advocate for small mirrors to be put in the shower for effective mascara removal, and full-length mirrors should be standard, even the cheap variety that stick onto the inside of a cupboard door.

Here at Claridge’s, I can’t complain about anything nor offer any service advice. This grand dame of a place has been around for more than 200 years and its popularity, aside from its general fabulousness, is down to its staff knowing exactly what their guests want and when they want it. And with that “butler″⁣ button so close, I’m only left to ponder what little necessity I can summon to my room next.

The writer was a guest of Claridge’s Hotel.