Prohibition money built the original structure on North Indian Canyon Drive in 1936 — a Spanish Colonial Revival compound reportedly financed by a Los Angeles mobster, its stucco walls and terracotta roof tiles designed to project respectable Californian ease while serving considerably less respectable purposes. Colony Palms Hotel takes its name from the surrounding Movie Colony neighborhood, where Hollywood's golden-age establishment retreated from scrutiny, and that layered history — glamour, discretion, mild transgression — runs through its recent reimagining as visibly as the bougainvillea climbs its courtyard arches. The renovation brought the interiors into sharp, committed conversation with the property's era without tipping into pastiche. The lobby sets the register immediately: a trompe-l'oeil diamond-pattern marble floor in green, black, and white anchors a room furnished with sheepskin-draped tubular steel chairs and mint velvet petal-back sofas, a dark wood reception desk trimmed in brass rising against a backdrop of fluted green lacquer. Guest rooms carry the chromatic commitment further — forest-green channel-tufted headboards against botanical or geometric wallpapers, olive velvet ottomans, cane-framed side tables, and Roman blinds in coordinating patterns that suggest a well-traveled 1940s collector rather than a design-hotel brand exercise. At the pool, green-and-white striped awnings shade cane-and-lacquer dining chairs beneath a clear view of the San Jacinto Mountains, the whole scene closer to a Slim Aarons photograph than anything conceived after 2000.

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