Jeff Klein Never Wants to Own a Place That’s ‘Hot’
Observer ·

The man behind the Sunset Tower and San Vicente talks about camera stickers, who gets in and why the hardest reservation in his portfolio can’t be bought.
Jeff Klein took San Vicente to both coasts this year. In New York , he converted the public spaces of the Jane Hotel into San Vicente West Village and kept part of the building running as a budget hotel. In Los Angeles, he opened San Vicente Santa Monica, a $40 million, 21,000-square-foot club with an indoor-outdoor restaurant, a rooftop bar and a 50-seat screening room. Members of the original San Vicente Bungalows get a year of free access before upgrading to a global membership. Revenue grew 30 percent last year, according to the company.
The model began with San Vicente Bungalows, which Klein opened in West Hollywood in 2018 after a $50 million renovation of the former San Vicente Inn. He has said more than 9,000 people are on its waiting list, and he’s now adding a pool and cabanas. Before that came the Sunset Tower Hotel, which Klein bought in 2004 and still considers his flagship. Walk-ins at its Tower Bar wait 30 minutes to an hour, longer on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Klein owns all of his real estate except in Santa Monica, which is on a long-term lease. This year he reportedly turned down a $700 million offer from DIAFA, the Abu Dhabi hospitality company, for the Sunset Tower and the San Vicente clubs. DIAFA’s side disputes the figure.
Klein, a 2026 Nightlife & Dining Power List honoree, talked to Observer about the camera stickers, who gets in and why the greatest compliment is when no one can tell what he’s changed.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
New York is where I started, so it’s very personal. The West Village has that wonderful neighborhood feeling, and I wanted the club to feel like an extension of your home: somewhere you can drop in, run into friends and stay much longer than you planned. It also has that old New York glamour. The main dining room was once a ballroom, and we have a live jazz band and singer every night. When the singer wears a black dress and long white gloves, I feel as though I’m in New York in the 1930s. Then there’s dinner on the roof overlooking the Hudson, or a quieter meal in the Tap Room. You can have a drink in the Billiards Room or the cozy Drawing Room, or go to a movie in the screening room. I wanted to offer people different experiences within a club that still feels intimate and personal.
The stickers were my idea, and we got a lot of pushback initially. Not everyone was on board at first, but now they are! People should be able to enjoy dinner or have a business meeting without it becoming someone else’s Instagram post or a piece of gossip. The stickers are a reminder of our broader rule: no photographs, and no discussing what you see or hear inside. We’ve even ended a membership because a member’s guest leaked details of a private meeting. Once people know their privacy is protected, they can let their guard down. To me, privacy has become the greatest luxury.
We have a membership committee whose identities we keep private. They put a great deal of thought into the mix of people: different ages, races, sexual orientations and professions. Even a club full of movie stars would be boring. You need variety. They look for curiosity, a sense of humor and good manners. It’s like putting together a dinner party: Will this person make the evening more interesting for everyone else? An impressive bank balance tells you very little about whether someone is good company. Being wealthy doesn’t give you an advantage.
That a place should get better with age. I never want to own a place that’s “hot.” Hot places are hot for a few years, and then they’re not. I want my places to become institutions that are part of the fabric of their communities. At the Tower, I’m creating an old Hollywood fantasy with all the conveniences of the modern world. The challenge is to keep improving it while preserving the feeling people love. The greatest compliment is when guests can’t quite tell what we’ve changed. I’ve brought that same sensibility to San Vicente: give it character, let it develop a patina and make it somewhere people want to return to for decades.
Warmth, instinct and discretion. A great maître d’ knows who wants to be fussed over and who wants to be left alone, and makes both feel completely at home. They remember how someone likes to be treated. Tom Ford recommended Dimitri Dimitrov to me, which worked out rather well. I wish finding every great maître d’ were as simple as asking Tom.
Santa Monica is only about 20 percent larger than the Bungalows in West Hollywood. West Hollywood feels smaller because it’s made up of cottages around a garden. Santa Monica is spread across one indoor floor overlooking the Pacific, with a roof deck above. You create intimacy through smaller rooms, tucked-away corners and personal service. You also have to be disciplined about membership and make sure your staff can really look after the people you’re admitting. A beautiful club means very little if you can never get a reservation. The real test is whether people feel known when they walk through the door.
That’s one I’ll have to keep to myself. The promise of privacy applies to me, too.
See all of Observer’s 2026 Nightlife & Dining Power List honorees.