Hotel silver evokes the golden age of travel, when
journeys lasted weeks, luggage was hard and heavy and came in double-digit
sets, and hotels served meals on crisp white linens. Tables at The
Connaught in London or The Ritz in Paris gleamed with silver -- flatware,
platters, finger bowls, and butter tubs -- each piece stamped with the
hotel's crest. Lovingly polished and patinated with the nicks and
dents of daily use, vintage hotel silver symbolizes a leisurely luxury that
has been lost in the high-tech hustle and bustle of 21st-century travel.
Indeed, as the world speeds up, hotel silver seems to
grow in popularity. "We're yearning for a time when life was
simpler," says Ginger Kilbane, whose Connecticut company,
Hôtel, specializes in selling vintage European hotel silver. A
two-cup teapot from a turn-of-the-century luxury liner conjures images of
the days "when coffee did not come in paper cups, when people still
'motored,' and when travelers nibbled pastries on balconies
overlooking the Grand Canal in Venice," Kilbane says.
Despite the name, hotel silver might just as well
have come from a train or an ocean liner. Taken broadly, it refers to
high-quality plated commercial silver -- everything from flatware to
Champagne buckets, entrée domes, trays, gratin dishes, fruit and
fish knives, and asparagus tongs. It was -- and still is -- typically
made from a triple-plated base of nickel to withstand wear and tear, giving
it a characteristic heft that is greater than silver-plated copper or
brass.
Kilbane, who can pick a hotel pickle fork out of a pile of flea
market silver from 10 paces, describes the appearance as "liquidy" -- bright with a soft luster from countless tiny
scratches. Since they are plated with 99.9 percent pure silver, hotel wares
appear whiter than sterling, an alloy of 92.5 percent silver and 7.5
percent copper.
Hotel silver also stands out for its clean lines and
stamped insignias. "The simple styles stressed elegance and
emphasized the name of the hotel," whether it was New York's
Waldorf-Astoria, Chicago's Palmer House, or the Excelsior in Rome,
says Charlotte Crabtree, owner of The Silver Vault in Charleston. "A
hotel wanted its crest to stand out like a calling card."