The Goodtime Hotel
There was a moment, not long after its debut, when The Goodtime Hotel felt like a beautifully staged idea—sun-drenched, hyper-stylized, and unmistakably Miami. Returning now, the experience has settled into something more assured. The spectacle remains, but it breathes differently. Less novelty, more rhythm.
Conceived by David Grutman and Pharrell Williams, the hotel still occupies its full square block along Washington Avenue with a kind of cinematic confidence. The reimagined Art Deco language—soft pastels, scalloped edges, theatrical murals—has not aged out of relevance. If anything, it has found its footing in a city that moves quickly through trends. The property now reads less like a set piece and more like a destination with memory.
Inside, the design by Ken Fulk continues to anchor the experience. The atrium remains a moment of arrival—lush, layered, and deliberately transportive. But what feels different today is the pacing. Where opening-era Goodtime leaned into constant stimulation, it now allows for contrast. Light and shadow. Quiet corners within the performance.
The rooms, still compact and highly stylized, have held onto their charm. The pink rotary phones, leopard-print benches, and tailored blackout drapery remain intact—details that could have felt gimmicky now feel like signatures. Views toward Biscayne Bay or the Atlantic still do their work, particularly at dusk, when the hotel softens into something almost cinematic.
At the center of it all, Strawberry Moon continues to define the property’s pulse. The 30,000-square-foot pool club still carries its mid-century Caribbean fantasy—striped loungers, rhythmic tiling, a palette that feels lifted from a softened postcard. But its programming has matured. What began as a daytime party magnet now balances that energy with a more curated cadence: structured events, refined service, and a crowd that feels less transient, more intentional.
Elsewhere, the hotel’s public spaces have quietly become more functional. The Library—once a transitional novelty—has evolved into a legitimate meeting ground, where laptops and espresso coexist without friction. The fitness offerings, anchored by Peloton and performance-driven equipment, reflect a broader shift in Miami hospitality: wellness is no longer an afterthought, but part of the itinerary.
What has changed most is not the design, nor the programming, but the tone. The Goodtime Hotel no longer tries to prove itself. It understands its role now: a place where escapism is still the point, but not the entire story. There is room here—for work, for pause, for repetition. For returning.
And perhaps that is the quiet evolution. What once felt like a weekend fantasy has become something more enduring—a Miami address that knows how to hold both the high and the low, the spectacle and the stillness, in the same frame.
David Grutman & Pharrell Williams
New Comforts Same Glamour
Overlook the Aegean Sea
Desert Chic
Picture perfect luxury.
