I haven’t spent time in Las Vegas in a research capacity since 2008. So for a city that is constantly reinventing itself at every turn, there was a lot to take in when I visited again during the first week of July, 2019. I wanted to focus on emerging trends in thematic design, as well as look for any marked changes to The Strip’s most iconic casinos and resorts.

I stayed at Harrah's on the north end of The Strip. A few blocks walk to the south is a newer “faux urban corridor” which runs down a wide pedestrian alley. As you can see here in the satellite view, this “street” terminates at a massive Ferris wheel called the High Roller which opened in 2014. At 550 feet, it’s currently the tallest such attraction in the world.

To the south (right) is the The Flamingo. The original hotel opened in 1946, and the current structure barely resembles what came before. Third to open on the Strip, it’s now the oldest and the last remaining casino which opened prior to 1950. To the north (left) is The LINQ Hotel + Experience which opened in 2013. This property had for many years been the down-market Imperial Palace (1977)—the only Asian-themed resort on The Strip—and before that the Flamingo Capri (1959).

The corridor in between the two resorts is called The LINQ Promenade. It's sort of Universal CityWalk-like with a greater emphasis on realism. Very Caruso. This side alley off The Strip is certainly not on the level of considered backstory as Disney Springs at Walt Disney World. But the design impulse is still there—to simulate the natural layering which occurs over time in the urban environment.

What is the appeal of this faux urbanism? It's ironic that they want to recreate it here in Las Vegas, a city whose development is its antithesis. False brick buildings and storefronts recall a “timeless but in the past-ness.” Although the promenade is for pedestrian access only, curbs line either side of the storefronts. I almost expected replica pay phones fire hydrants.

Within this faux urban environment is a considerable amount of what I’ve come to call “micro-theming.” Each shop and dining establishment increasingly has its own themes buried within the mega (uber) themes of the resort areas themselves. What I used to call an “all you can eat thematic buffet” that arose during the 1980s placed variety primarily at the resort level. If you wanted to sample a new theme, you walked on.

There seems to be more micro-theming in Las Vegas than I remember in 2008. All the mega-themed resports, the Luxors and Excaliburs and New York New Yorks and Bellagios and Venetians, seem to be a bit passé. The big ones are still here, lively as ever, but they’re also full of a diversity of micro themes.

Again, the layering here isn’t exactly Disney-level. But the designers made an effort to establish a more natural urban sense of place over time. Some buildings are made to look older than their current tenants.

Not that most folks would notice but there appears to be little micro histories built into most structures. For example a sports bar featuring sexy school girls looks like it has been installed into an early 20th century bank.

All of this is mixed with more contemporary retail and dining design, like you might find anywhere across the Sun Belt. Bright and open. Employing vernacular architectural styles, but without any dressing down or aging. “Old built as new” as you might find anywhere from Santa Barbara to Santa Fe.

The plantings in particular suggest nearby Southern California.

Southeastern small town folkiness is also thrown into the mix, though the buildings themselves are all brick and suggest larger cities in the North.

I call this sort of thing “Cracker Barrel Pastiche.” It’s the sort of establishment where sweet tea cocktails are served in mason jars and peanut shells cover the wood plank floors.

In a nod to classic, Rat Pack-era Vegas, there is neon signage throughout. This little bit in the window adds some Nashville Honky-tonk flavor.

But some of the other marquees are much more elaborate and smack of a mid-century supper club.

One thing the faux urban approach provides to contemporary brands is the opportunity to place themselves in an alternate history of sorts, in a grand imagined past. In-N-Out Hamburgers was founded in 1948, but it was a simple roadside drive-thru stand. Here the fast food restaurant has been reimagined as a Hollywood Golden Era movie house.

Everything continues to be nested like Russian dolls—themes inside themes inside even more themes.

If you want to change immersion channels you just walk into a different restaurant or bar instead of a new hotel property. Perhaps the mega-resort approach is truly becoming a thing of the past.

For those who are looking to notice it, the incongruities in these types of environments can be overwhelming. I'm beginning to wonder if the overall audacity of it all is the appeal. I still see visitors of all stripes who are saying to themselves “wow they actually did this” whatever “this” is.

In this case, a celebrity chef fish ‘n’ chips restaurant’s entrance is a pair of oversized, cartoonish London telephone boxes.

Excess in this context doesn't just mean a lot. It also means ridiculous as in “this doesn't make sense to me.” I look at a design decision and laugh and think this is a mistake but maybe it's not a mistake. The contradiction is the point. It's the appeal.

In the end, it’s all just the wrapping paper on the real package: getting you inside the casinos to gamble.

The most meta moment I had during my Las Vegas stay was certainly this souvenir shop. The classic “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign designed by Betty Willis in 1959 can be found all over town, from the replica photo-op at the airport to t-shirts and coffee mugs. In 2005, even the Nevada license plate issued to commemorate the Las Vegas centennial featured the sign.

Although Young Electric Sign Company (YESCO) has owned the sign since their purchase of its fabrication in the early 1960s, they lease the sign to the county and the design itself has never been trademarked (rumor is that Willis wished it to be her gift to the city and remain freely in the public domain).

Seeing it here, tucked into this promenade of faux urbanist micro-theming and adapted into a storefront fin was almost a bridge too far.

Continued in Part 2.