Titan Casual

Taking in the taleggio foam and sandalwood-scented restrooms of Centurion New York, Manhattan's most exclusive new clubhouse

- MATTHEW SCHNEIER

IT WAS THE CELEBRITY plastic surgeon who clued me in. We found ourselves seatmates at a cancer benefit at Avra, the Madison Avenue estiatorio that serves Greek salads to what remains of the uptown power-lunch elite, and Dr. Andrew Jacono—the architect of faces including Marc Jacobs’s (I am betraying no confidences here: Jacobs is happy to acknowledge his work)—was telling me that the real power spot was Centurion New York (1 Vanderbilt Ave., at E. 42nd St.; centurion.com). Then the good doctor pulled out his phone and texted a well-placed friend. Would Centurion have me? Doctor, they would.

Entrée was not otherwise guaranteed. New York is once again in a clubby moment with private hospitality on the rise. The mayor parties at Zero Bond, protected from prying eyes as he dances with Wendi Deng. Casa Cipriani, on the waterfront, hosts Saudi princesses. Casa Cruz, in a Beaux-Arts manse on East 61st, is a London import; the San Vicente Bungalows, soon to take over the former Jane Hotel, hails from L.A. And now here comes Centurion New York, a mostly private warren of dining rooms, bars, and a salon 55 floors up the midtown super-tall One Vanderbilt.

Centurion exists for the more or less exclusive enjoyment of people who possess an American Express Centurion card (a.k.a. the black card), a mythic status symbol in the expense-account community. For those who spend $250,000 or maybe $500,000 a year—AmEx will not confirm the exact amount—the Centurion card offers unparalleled concierge services, able to secure anything from private-jet bookings to Renaissance-tour tickets. Membership is invitation only. “You can call and beg me for it,” Elizabeth Crosta, an AmEx vice-president of communications, told me cheerfully, “but nothing much will happen.”