I don't normally review hotels, but I had to make an exception for this one.
I've stayed at many a hotel. I've stayed at other Ws. I've never experienced anything quite like the W in Westwood. All Ws have the wannabe rave/nightclub thing going on, but this was extreme. I sat by the pool eating my cheeseburger and sweet potato fries (to the horror of the wannabe actresses/models/porn stars nearby) and just watched the slow roll of hipsters, yupsters, gansters, and "My new work just needs to be seen because I'm 53, but I look like I'm 27 (unless you look too closely - which I didn't) and please somebody rich take me home tonight" types walk by with their enormous and overpriced alcoholic beverages while I waited for my penthouse suite to be prepared.
And by penthouse suite, I mean the elevator button I pressed was "PH". Apparently platinum status means something at the W (unlike the Westin, which disturbs me a little).
The people watching was definitely entertaining, but what bumped the W up to four stars was the suite I stayed in. Kitchen, dining room, two bedrooms (the master is larger than my master) and at last count four giant plasmas. AND the decor. My interior design sister would have been in contemporary heaven. It was that sweet. I only wish my wife had been there to enjoy the mirror above the bed. Hi honey!