NEW YORK — Eloise would not be pleased.

It looks like the frizzy-haired girl who lives at the Plaza in the cartoon books will have to find new digs at the end of April. The world-famous hotel at Fifth Avenue and Central Park South is supposed to be closed and converted into luxury condos, stores and a far smaller hotel.

Jim Auchmutey/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
Lula Rappoport bugged her parents until they bought her a $50 'Eloise' picnic set.
Jim Auchmutey/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
The Plaza gift shop accepts mail in a special box from 'Eloise' fans.
Jim Auchmutey/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
Children's favorite Eloise has called the Plaza home since 1955.
MARTY LEDERHANDLER/Associated Press (ENLARGE)
Since its opening in 1907, the Plaza has been a favorite residence of celebrities in New York for business and the setting for some memorable Hollywood moments. News of an April 29 closing has brought an influx of guests hoping to capture memorable moments of their own before the hotel is overhauled.
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IF YOU GO GETTING THERE Expect to pay about $200 round trip airfare from Atlanta to New York City. ABOUT THE HOTEL The Plaza is scheduled to close on April 30 for extensive interior remodeling. The new owner plans to convert the landmark into condominiums, stores and a 150-room hotel reopening in 2007. Two of the Plaza's restaurants have already closed: the Oyster Bar and the Oak Room. Two remain open: the Oak Bar and the Palm Court. Rooms (available through April 29) start around $300 a night and can run many times that much with a view of Central Park. Information: 1-877-226-1796; www.fairmont.com/theplaza (Web site has information about the hotel, but booking must be done by phone). RELATED A Century at the Plaza

When Katie and Alex Rappoport of Saugerties, N.Y., heard the news, they packed up their family for a last look at the landmark in its classic incarnation. Katie loves the "Eloise" books and brought one along so Lula, their 4-year-old, could strike the same poses in the same ballrooms while her daddy snapped photos.

"Hold your arms out like Eloise," Lula was instructed. "That's right. Big smile."

Flash.

"I'm hoping," Katie said, "that this will be her earliest memory."

Scenes like this have become common at the Plaza lately. The hotel, which had been losing money because of its costly overhead, has done brisk business since the closing was announced in January. People who have stayed there before — or always wanted to — have flocked to the majestic building that rises 19 floors above Midtown Manhattan like a titanic mansard-roofed chateau. The hotel is taking reservations through April 29.

But it isn't just past patrons who feel an attachment to the property. The Plaza has figured in so many movies, state visits and celebrity events, almost anyone should feel some familiarity with the place.

More than 40 movies have been filmed or set there, from "North by Northwest" (you can still sip a cocktail in the Oak Bar, where the bad guys kidnapped Cary Grant) to "Home Alone 2" (room service sundaes, anyone?).

The British Invasion of 1964 started at the Plaza, as the Beatles charmed the press in the Baroque Room and dodged fans in the lobby while they made their first appearances on "The Ed Sullivan Show."

The Plaza was a backdrop for one of the greatest American novels, "The Great Gatsby." F. Scott Fitzgerald hung out there so much that Ernest Hemingway once joked he'd make sure the hotel got his heart when he died.

But it was Frank Lloyd Wright who paid the Plaza perhaps the highest compliment. The egotistical architect, who stayed there for six years while he oversaw the building of the Guggenheim Museum during the '50s, was so taken with the hotel that he told reporters, "I like it almost as much as if I'd built it myself."

The credit actually belongs to Henry Hardenbergh, who also designed two other ornate landmarks, the Dakota Apartments in Central Park and the Willard Hotel in Washington. The Plaza — his masterpiece — opened in 1907, with a Vanderbilt as its first guest. Only the Waldorf-Astoria has rivaled it for opulence and reputation.

Over the years, the Plaza has been owned by a Saudi prince and American tycoons like Conrad Hilton and Donald Trump. Last fall, a new proprietor entered the picture. Elad Properties, part of an Israeli hotel company, bought the Plaza for $675 million and unveiled plans for a $350 million renovation that would convert the top 12 floors into condominiums and reduce the number of hotel rooms from 805 to 150.

The new bosses made it clear that they thought the Plaza, despite its five-star stature, needed an extreme makeover. "It's amazing people think it's one of the best hotels in the world," said Elad's chief executive, Miki Naftali. "It's not."

While the Plaza is still a rarefied retreat where classical music plays in wood-paneled elevators and white-coated attendants help you wash and dry your hands in the public restrooms, some guests concede that the hotel may have slipped a notch.

Susan Sentmann of Manassas, Va., has stayed at the Plaza perhaps 10 times. During her most recent visit in late February, she noticed things.

"The ceiling in my room needs paint, and there's some mildew," she said as she waited in line for breakfast in the Palm Court.

"And there was no turn-down service," chimed in her daughter, Sydney.

Whether the Plaza still lives up to its tradition, Elad's plans have stirred opposition.

The New York Hotel Trades Council, a union that represents 900 Plaza employees who stand to lose their jobs, has launched a $1 million campaign to rally public opinion against the changes. The union staged a protest at the hotel, started a Web site (www.savetheplaza.com) and is running ads claiming that the building might be turned into a shopping mall.

The workers found a sympathetic ear in Mayor Michael Bloomberg. Residential real estate has become so expensive in Manhattan in recent years that more than 3,000 hotel rooms have gone condo. Concerned about lost jobs and lost lodging at a time when the city is bidding for the Olympics, Bloomberg intervened in the Plaza controversy, meeting twice last month with the owners and union officials to try to broker a compromise that would keep more of the hotel intact.

Elad countered with a proposal to build another hotel in New York with at least as many employees as those laid off at the Plaza.

The city's best leverage may be its strict preservation laws. The Plaza was designated a city landmark in 1969, but only the exterior of the building is protected. The New York Landmarks Preservation Commission is studying whether to designate some of the hotel's exquisite interior spaces, like the Oak Room, its formal dining hall; the Oak Bar, a clubby retreat overlooking Central Park; the Grand Ballroom, the gilded site of many a society wedding; and the Palm Court, the columned atrium where a harpist serenades high tea every afternoon.

Listing those spaces would give the commission some jurisdiction over the changes. "If push came to shove, we could designate over the owners' objections," said Landmarks Chairman Robert Tierney.

Elad wouldn't object, said spokesman Steve Solomon: "We've never intended to alter those rooms. They're part of the reason we bought the property."

Those grand public spaces are perhaps the most beloved part of the Plaza. Katie Rappoport, the "Eloise"-loving mom from Saugerties, regards them as one of the crowning pleasures of being in New York.

"We used to live in Brooklyn and put up with mice and all the other stuff you put up with when you live in the city," she said. "The Plaza was one of the ways I escaped from all that. Just walking into the Palm Court puts some beauty in your life. It restores you."

It was Saturday morning, and the Rappoports were winding up their sentimental journey. Before they departed, they had to stop by the gift shop, which felt like an estate sale as people picked through bath robes, monogrammed towels and stacks of Eloise merchandise. Lula, the 4-year-old, scampered to a display of $50 "Eloise" picnic sets, her dark bangs bouncing and announced that she wanted one.

Her mother smiled weakly and wondered whether Lula was identifying a little too much with the fictitious girl who liked to order whatever she wanted with a chirpy, "Charge it, please." She'd already started the morning with room service breakfast a la Eloise. "An $11 bowl of oatmeal," Katie said, rolling her eyes.

When she told her daughter that they'd have to pass on the picnic set, Lula pooched out her lower lip, stamped her feet and started to cry.

"Well," her father interceded, "we did come down here for some souvenirs."

Soon enough, he was standing at the checkout counter with a Plaza book, a Plaza Christmas ornament and that pink picnic ensemble. Lula was pleased. But her father seemed a bit pained as he signed the charge slip for $124.86.

"This place better close now," he muttered.