By Alexandra Wong

How do you walk the tightrope between tasteful and tacky? It is the same conundrum that bedevils fashion pundits: is Sarah Jessica Parker's plant hat in Sex and the City avant garde, or would it be more accurate to say, "What the hell was she thinking?"

Thankfully, Palazzo Versace, arguably Gold Coast's most luxurious hotel today, negotiates this wobbly territory with panache.

First opened on Sept 15, 2000, the A$300mil hotel pays homage to the late fashion maven Gianni Versace and his fascination with medieval Roman culture and architecture. It is the brainchild of Soheil Abedian, the head of construction giant Sunland Group.

Abedian was equally enamoured with the baroque elegance of the 17th and 18th century European Renaissance period, and saw the potential in integrating a highly luxurious hotel concept with the Versace lifestyle. He pitched this idea to the Versace group, and Palazzo Versace was born in 1997.

Magnificent waterways, hinterland and white sandy beaches encircle the 205 classical rooms, 72 neighbouring condominiums, three restaurants and a private marina on the edge of the Gold Coast Broadwater.

While the last few years have witnessed the birth of other "designer" branded hotels, Palazzo is the first bona fide fashion hotel. In non-marketing speak, this means that everything here is sourced from Versace's own home-ware line, from the miniature fragrance bottle that graces the bathroom, and the china that complements your tea- and coffee-making facilities, to the Medusa-embossed drinking glasses in your mini-bar.

There is an intense attention to detail that demands "an immediate drawing in of the breath and donning of sunglasses to cut down on the glare," one awed writer commented.

During its 2½ year construction, designers flew in from Italy to work closely with the architects to ensure that the Palazzo did justice to the designer's vision. True to its founding philosophy, everything in Palazzo Versace does look like it comes from the ancient Roman palaces. The Greek mythological figure of Medusa, incidentally also the fashion house's corporate logo, is featured in a sculpture in the Versace family garden and adorns various motifs throughout the hotel.

Lining the doorway is the second largest pebble mosaic in the world (after the one outside Rome's Parliament House), painstakingly hand-laid by five Italian master tilers.

As you enter the foyer, prepare to gasp at the sweeping hall of marble pillars, circular lounges, jewelled chandeliers and gilt-edged everything. It would seem that the designers left nothing to chance, even the most miniscule detail.

Consider the pillows, for instance. Their placement on the bed adheres to a strict formula, for crying out loud. There is even a menu of five different styles of pillow. Talk about leaving no stone - or pillow, in this case - unturned.

"Everywhere the eye looks, one must see a feature," Dr Santo Versace once said. After the demise of his younger brother Gianni, Dr Santo has been heading the Versace fashion house along with their younger sister Donatella.

If a hotel could be called an objet d'art, Palazzo Versace would be it.

According to hotel lore, U2 lead singer Bono, who stayed at the Imperial Suite, had exclaimed upon drawing the curtains to get a glimpse of the view below his balcony, "I feel like the Pope!"

Our little entourage certainly give up pretending to be worldly-wise, I've-seen-it-all journalists after our walkabout tour of the Imperial Suite.

"May I take a picture for posterity?" I ask timidly at the luxurious chamber where Bono once purportedly rested his head. Perched gingerly on the edge of the bed, I am uncomfortably aware that a single bed-sheet might cost my entire year's income. No expenses have been spared to lavish the guests. Even the glasses in the minibar are reputed to cost a cool US$100 (S$147) a piece.

For all the Palazzo's high-brow trappings, the staff here exude a warm hospitality and seem down-to-earth. They certainly display no airs of snobbish entitlement that afflict some hotel staff I've encountered in other luxury digs.

Pleased parents attest to its highly child-tolerant staff. An eight-year-old guest Alex (no relation to the writer) wrote:

"The hotel has a really big pool. They've got Playstation, and great hot chocolate, and you can eat fish and chips and see the boats (at Vie restaurant) . . . the lady at the desk gave me a special colouring book and a present when I answered all the questions about the hotel - I found out the chandelier weighs 750kg!"

Fulfilling the whims of sticky-fingered children aside, the hotel has also garnered a reputation as a "special occasion hotel". When ask what kind of visitors frequent the place, their marketing manager Carol Woods says modestly, eyes twinkling, "Palazzo Versace has become an increasingly popular venue with honeymooners, or a man trying to propose, or least trying to impress a lady."

While we're nibbling on buttery scones and fresh whipped cream at Le Jardin, Carol recounts the following story: She was walking into the hotel one day when she noticed a couple in their 60s hovering at the entrance. They seemed to be debating whether to enter its premises. The missus refused to let him go in, insisting, "You've got to wear long pants."

Carol was in a hurry so she thought she'd leave them alone. When she emerged from the meeting half an hour later, she saw the same lady in the lobby - and the old man still outside peering in longingly.

Carol did something any Australian would do. She walked up to her and said, "As long as he's got his thongs and shorts on, he's more than welcome to come in."

Now that's what I call six-star hospitality.