Fleur de Lis. To some, its three spires symbolize the holy trinity. To others, it’s an emblem of noble heritage and purity embodied in the lily flower it depicts.

To me, it’s the latest spot in Las Vegas where I can get my rectum sprayed spotless by a Toto Washlet. Now nearly two years old, I was long overdue to give Fontainebleau’s ultra exclusive hotel-within-a-hotel a try.

The Score

What once started as an invite-only initiative, some Fleur de Lis suites have now been relegated to rate calendar status. And understandably so. While the 10,000 square foot “Empire” suite shares the same exclusivity as villas throughout town, there was no way Fontainebleau could gatekeep the far more modest “Monogram.” Least expensive nights ran the low thousands with quieter weekends in the mid-twos; a steep price still for only 980 square feet.

Upgrading at check in was the only logical option and in my five previous stays, I’d been denied every time. And I get it. There’s a perfection that comes with the highest end suites; fresh flower arrangements bursting with color, welcome amenities of fruits so perfectly ripe that the slightest guest delay requires a new platter. It’s orchestrated, choreographed, and the guest would never know there was an army in their suite just moments before a flawless first impression.

This time, I checked in on a comped “Noble Suite Strip Great View” and, fully expecting to be denied, half-joked about upgrading.

“Yes, we can do a Crown suite for an additional $1400 per night or a Monogram suite for an additional $835 per night.”

They budged! Three nights in a Monogram would set me back a grand total of $2840 above the comped Noble suite. Expensive yes, but rack rates that weekend were just shy of $7000. In addition, I’d still be getting $500 in food and beverage credit with the offer I booked and 4pm check out with my Royal status. I agreed to the upgrade as quickly as I could. The front desk called the butler team to prepare the suite and proceeded to check in the three other rooms I’d booked for friends.

I was given my keys and escorted to the elevator bank on my way to room 8840.

Arrival

All elevators have touchscreens allowing the display and selections to change as needed; after 5pm, floor CR—the “crown” where Poodle Room is located—becomes accessible. Six destination dispatch elevators serve just five floors of only fifteen rooms per floor. You will not share an elevator with anyone unless you reach the foyer simultaneously with another guests on the same floor. And the one other guest I happened to share an elevator with was Tiësto. No fanboy-ing from me because I’m also Fleur de Lis.

Deep burgundy corridors are in stark contrast to the bowties and blues found in regular guest room hallways. Fresh orchids and incense accent the consoles. The floral casino fragrance is replaced with a more masculine, spicier tobacco scent.

As is the norm for this level of room, a butler stands by the door awaiting your arrival. Checking in my remaining rooms, however, had taken so long that it was apparent she’d been dispatched to the needs of another guest and appeared mildly frazzled when I ran into her in the hallway: “Oh you must be Mr. E! Please right this way,” and proceeded to give me the abridged version of the ceremonial welcome presentation I’ve experienced at other butler-serviced suites.

I’m certain that if I’d booked from the get-go and paid full rack rate, the arrival experience would’ve been positively flawless, but it wasn’t and instead I [shrug] saved $4100.

The Suite

The Monogram welcomes you with a long entry foyer juxtaposing blue wall paper with black and white stone surfaces. The gold framing on the walls is a nod to the grand hallways of the original Fontainebleau castle. I adore the bowtie inlay when immediately entering. A locked supply closet assists in fast servicing of the suite.

The guest bathroom off the entry.

I hate showers in guest baths; they take valuable space, remind me of timeshares, and I don’t want my guests to get the impression that they can stay overnight. (Yes, I’m weird. See also: I stayed in a three-bedroom Villa at The Mirage by myself.)

The living room. Hardwood floors contrast against various shades of blue. Deep pile carpets feel rich underfoot. All Monogram suites face north. This and the fourteen neighboring suites are, as of this writing, the highest accommodations in the state of Nevada.

Contrasting textures abound. Pocket doors allow for separation of living and bedroom areas while still giving a sense of open space. Mirrors framing the television help the 980 square feet feel larger than it is. Technology is user-friendly with clear instructions presented in a menu explaining everything from casting your phone to the excellent, suite-wide speaker system to connecting video game consoles to the television. The framed “art” may have been a novel choice in 2023 but I for one have serious AI fatigue.

Wet bar.

Nuts are complimentary and I ate my room rate in cashews. Tea and coffee is also complimentary but not the Fiji water you’d use to make it. Nearly everything else pictured (save the coconut waters I bought at the airport) is at a cost. Prices are exorbitant, but no higher than standard rooms. Additionally, there’s an elevated 24-hour Fleur de Lis room service menu. Think caviar on top of caviar.

One end table has a snack and amenity trunk exclusive to Fleur de Lis. Other than the branding and presentation, I’m not sure it’s any different than what’s available in the standard room minibars and regret not using the intimacy kit in the name of research. A proper Poodle Room invitation is a nice touch.

Similar décor continues into the bedroom.

The upholstered wall of blue interlocking blocks doubles as sound deadening and surely prevented Tiësto from hearing me absolutely channeling Post Malone from the original Fontainebleau in-room video. IYKYK. (Note to management: please bring that back.)

Closet place is ample. The glass facade on the dresser drawers was much appreciated. I’m not sure what that ring is for but I assume it’s something sexual. Shoe bags, laundry and the like are of high quality linen embroidered Fleur de Lis. There’s even a separate jewelry valet. All drawers are lined in navy suede.

The branded pen and notepad on the nightstand immediately went in the luggage and have entered my collection of rarified Vegas knickknacks. The orchid was switched out the next day because one unblossomed bud just isn’t fresh enough. Gianduja toasted hazelnuts left at turn down were to die for. Fleur de Lis receives special navy slippers presented bedside on a pad so thick and plush that even the staunchest of atheists would kneel on it to pray for a banker streak.

A hallway from the bedroom leads to the primary bathroom.

The first encounter with a Toto Washlet is always intimidating. By second encounter, you’re in love. Self cleaning and always warm to your thighs, if one were in my own home, I’d have circulation issues in my legs from hours spent doomscrolling Instagram while getting my rectum rinsed. My only criticism: I overindulged one night and awoke knowing I had to induce out some of the fun. I knelt in front of the Toto and it greeted me with lights and a self-rinse. Terrified I might get a bidet fountain to the face, I ran as quickly as I could to the guest bathroom and finished the job there.

The bathroom also features dual sinks, separate vanity, deep soaking tub, a shower with douche and proper rain head, and heated towel warmer.

Dual Fontainebleau and Fleur de Lis branding appear throughout the bathroom. Even the exceptional two-ply toilet paper (not pictured) is embossed with the Fleur de Lis. Robes, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, body wash, and soap bars are the same as the rooms downstairs. Razors, toothbrush, Marvis toothpaste and mouthwash, and C.O. Bigelow shaving cream are exclusive to all suites in Fontainebleau. Packaging for the shower cap, comb, and hair brush depict Fontainebleau castle and are branded Fleur de Lis.

I left the Monogram suite in love. It’s the perfect room for those seeking an ultra-high level of service without the need for thousands of square feet. And all at a casino you actually… you know… enjoy being at (sorry Skylofts).

Service and Perks

While not openly advertised, the black Fleur de Lis room key gets you front-of-line ahead of all walk-up reservations.

Saturday night at Bleau Bar had an hour wait for a table for a party our size but when the hostess saw my room key, a manager came by and seated us immediately. A house car is always reasonably available, although their fleet of Ghost and Phantom Rolls Royces seem to elude me.

Being able to text requests to the butlers is a game changer, especially when visiting with nineteen of your closest family and friends.

Shots in the room? I texted the butlers to have glassware ready before we made our way up. Two more seats for Mother Wolf? I called the restaurant directly and they couldn’t do it but after texting the butlers, it was done in seconds. Literally.

But by far the greatest amenity, the thing that makes you actually consider paying full rack rate, and the thing that—even if I were to receive nothing else—would still make the upgrade worth it, was unlimited access to Poodle Room. I probably wouldn’t unabashedly gush about it if this trip were a small group, but I received great joy escorting friends and family up to celebrate my birthday weekend at all hours of the evening, sometimes even twice per night. Beyond its main space, its the library, the cigar lounge, its own speakeasy, even the private gaming area—it’s the nicest spot to enjoy a drink in Las Vegas. Don’t @ me.

Final Thoughts

With Fontainebleau being my new home base and the generous comps I’ve been receiving, it’s hard to justify the upgrade every trip. The value is there but the cost is prohibitive at this stage in my life. That said, Fleur de Lis is a unique product. It’s Skylofts at MGM but less dated in every way. It’s Sky Suites at Aria with better service. It’s Wynn Tower Suites with more and better amenities. And it’s any of the villa products in town packaged in a smaller size. While it’s a harder comp to score than some of these indirect competitors, it’s often similarly priced and for the cash-paying customer who wants the very best, Fleur de Lis stands out.