The LEED List No. 02 – Crosby Street Hotel
I spent this week at the Crosby Street Hotel in SoHo, nestled on a quiet cobblestone block that renders even a cloudy afternoon beautifully composed. I’ve walked past it countless times, but this was the first occasion I allowed myself to truly study it—not simply as a guest, but as a student of design. I arrived for afternoon tea (a visual and sensory delight in itself) and stayed far longer than anticipated, observing how the space moved, breathed, and held its guests.
Crosby Street Hotel holds a LEED Gold certification, though it doesn’t announce it. There is no aggressive minimalism or overtly “eco” aesthetic. Instead, the interiors are richly layered, joyful, and tactile—patterned wallpaper, velvet armchairs, art that leans whimsical, and color pairings that feel curated but not self-conscious. It’s a thoughtful reminder that sustainability need not be austere to be effective. Design can be exuberant and ethical, all at once.
The hotel’s certification was earned not simply through energy-efficient systems, but through a considered, holistic commitment to sustainability during both construction and ongoing operation. Over 75 percent of construction and demolition waste was diverted from landfills. Low-VOC paints were used throughout, and materials were locally sourced wherever possible. A green roof system mitigates runoff and supports biodiversity, while rainwater capture and natural ventilation ease the building’s environmental impact. These features—combined with daylighting strategies and sensor-controlled lighting—accumulate the 60 to 79 points needed for LEED Gold under the U.S. Green Building Council’s stringent criteria. For a hotel operating at the scale and tempo of Crosby, that’s no small achievement—it’s a reflection of deeply intentional design.
Though I didn’t speak to staff during this visit, I tuned into the space with quiet attention. The way natural light enters the lobby and restaurant feels deliberate, not incidental. Most windows are operable—a rare luxury in Manhattan—and even without a breeze, the airflow moves with grace, as though the building itself inhales and exhales in rhythm with its guests. It’s not simply the presence of windows; it’s how the architecture is composed to support movement, ventilation, and ease.
The English garden behind the hotel caught me off guard in the most elegant way. Sculpted but never forced, it feels as though it’s always belonged. Guests strolled slowly, coffee in hand, as though the garden adjusted their internal pace. It offers a softness that silences the city just beyond its hedges. According to the USGBC, this outdoor integration—along with strategic water-saving and landscaping choices—played a pivotal role in the hotel’s certification. But standing in it, you don’t think about LEED points. You simply feel at ease.
Inside, the lighting is handled with restraint and grace. No harsh fixtures, no theatrical spotlighting. Just pools of warm light where they are needed, revealing the richness of textures—the nap of the velvet, the glow of polished floors, the hand-thrown quality of ceramic tiles. Materials here feel chosen not just for their function or footprint, but for their emotional resonance. Whether recycled, local, or simply meant to endure, they all feel placed with care.
This visit reframed sustainability for me—not as a checklist, but as a language of softness. Where 1 Hotel feels rooted and raw, Crosby is expressive, elegant, and composed. Both succeed by making sustainability a design foundation, not an accessory. Sometimes, the most sustainable spaces don’t proclaim their systems—they reveal themselves in the texture of a fabric, the quiet of a garden, or the ability to open a window and exhale. Always, In the Details.
79 Crosby St, New York, NY 10012
