Reviving Tradition: How Legacy Hotels Are Capturing Young Audiences

By Peter Tashjian, founding partner at brand strategy and design agency Love & War

In today’s fragmented, hyper-accelerated culture, younger audiences are increasingly drawn to legacy brands. Not for nostalgia per se, but for the sense of continuity they provide. Rooted in a past many never lived through, these brands offer something that feels reassuring in a world of constant churn: craft, honesty, tradition, permanence, and things done with care and consideration.

Nowhere is this renewed appreciation more evident than in hospitality, where legacy hotels like The Plaza in New York, the Carlyle’s Bemelmans Bar, Hotel Figueroa in Los Angeles, and Gurney’s Montauk on Long Island’s East End are proving that history, when carried forward with intention, can be a source of connection and cultural relevance.

The power of legacy is often mishandled. Some brands get stuck in the past, reluctant to evolve for fear of losing what once made them special. They struggle to separate what’s essential and charming from what’s simply outdated, and end up under-leveraging what could be a real asset in today’s world. The result is a brand that feels dated or even frumpy.

Others, anxious to keep pace or win over younger audiences, overcorrect. They adopt the language and aesthetics of newer brands and, in the process, scrub away the very qualities that once made them distinct and that, presented with the right touch, could still resonate today.

The brands getting it right avoid this binary. They don’t treat their history as a time capsule, nor as baggage to be shed. Instead, they look for the deeper throughline: the essential character and defining features that made them matter then, and that still have the power to connect now. That’s what we helped The Plaza to do in its most recent renovation and brand refresh. Rather than chasing trends or turning into a museum of itself, it has evolved in ways that deliver modern relevance while remaining true to its core. The result is a hotel that draws strength from its history. Even its most traditional offerings, like afternoon tea at the Palm Court, have found new life and popularity, especially among Gen Z. It feels alive because of its legacy, not in spite of it.

This kind of thoughtful reinterpretation was also central to the revival of Hotel Figueroa in downtown Los Angeles. During its renovation, long-forgotten pieces of the hotel’s past emerged: archival logos, ad campaigns, and design elements that spoke to its winding story and checkered yet vibrant bohemian past. Rather than treating these as nostalgic artifacts, the team used them as raw material to shape a fresh identity. The result was a brand expression that felt both contemporary and rooted, with analog details and a visual language that honored the hotel’s history without romanticizing it. By pulling forward what felt honest and distinctive, the hotel found a new relevance for its historic soul.

The same principles also guided the reinvention of MacArthur Place in Sonoma. A former farmhouse estate, the property embraced its rural past while dialing up its natural luxury qualities, transforming it into a refined, nature-infused experience that feels both deeply local and freshly elevated.

Successful revivals like these come down to discernment. It’s not about age or tradition for their own sake, but about identifying what has lasting character and presenting it with just the right touch. That sensitivity is also what keeps places like Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle Hotel feeling timeless. Its hand-painted murals and white-jacketed servers have hardly changed in decades. But the space doesn’t feel stuck. It remains a cultural anchor, not because it chases trends, but because it maintains its identity with confidence and care, offering something solid and specific in a world that often feels unmoored.

It’s easy to assume that appealing to younger audiences means adopting their tastes, mimicking influencer aesthetics, or chasing what’s new and now. But in a culture of constant stimulation and shallow connection, what often resonates is the opposite: real substance and the chance to engage with something that feels lasting. Legacy brands have the opportunity to offer this kind of feeling – to create a true respite in a world that moves forward at a relentless pace. When they lean into what has always made them meaningful, rather than trying to “keep up,” they can create enduring relevance even among, or especially among, younger Millennial and Gen Z audiences.

The revival of Gurney’s Montauk shows how this works in practice. When the property and brand were reimagined, they resisted the pull of slick resort aesthetics. Instead, they stayed true to the setting and spirit of their classic, generational East End escape. The result is refined but not sterile, with a relaxed, lived-in soul. That authenticity hasn’t gone unnoticed. Gurney’s has become a favorite among younger visitors not because it imitates their world, but because it offers something they rarely find in it: a sense of place, of continuity, and of character built over time.

There’s no single formula for honoring the past. Some properties, like Gurney’s and Hotel Figueroa, have undergone bold, intentional revivals. Others, like Bemelmans Bar, have changed almost imperceptibly, evolving slowly while staying true to their original character. What unites them is a respect for the past, a clear understanding of what made them matter to begin with, and the savvy to evolve without losing their soul.

That’s the real art of legacy: knowing what to keep, what to let go of, and what to carry forward in a way that feels honest. Time can’t be bought or manufactured, but it can be used well. The brands that do this right don’t remind people how long they’ve been around. They show, in compelling ways, why they still matter now.