Let it be known: I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder toward people my age who take frequent vacations—purely based on time-related issues, not money. Although I wouldn’t mind being able to afford some getaways. Problem is, I log onto Facecrook and gag at mobile uploads of toes in the sand while I hoard my time-off poker chips—arms cupped around them protectively, teeth ready to snap at delayed flights, head colds, babies, last-minute weddings, etc. I have a job; vacation is a mandated commodity. And while I love our tiny airport, thanks to its obscurity, trips are 1/2 getting there, the other 1/2 cramming activities into 1.5 days.
With that, I say (in the most humble, baffled, and sheepish tone) we are finally lucky enough to go on a real vacation. I’ve been saving up my days since March. By the grace of Heathcliff and the Catillac Cats, my parents decided to recruit us (for comedic relief? as partners in crime? my mom wanted to borrow my caftans? Rob’s help with wine lists?) for a trip.
Now, I’m facing packing. I suck at packing. [Yeah, some people have real problems. Are you rooting out the hypocrisy of this post yet?]
All you need to know is it will be warm. I’ve narrowed my angle down to three styles. What’s your favorite? Why? Tell me which way to go. Oh, and know… there will be caftans.
[Chloe on Isabel Lucas; wretched Olivia.]
Bonus of profile 1: It’s easy to look polished when you’re living out of a suitcase of classic staples.
Already got a white bikini with high-waisted bottom comme ςa from J.Crew:
A more modern take, with basic pieces and casual proportions a la Bilson, perhaps:
This is like eating a pepperoncini…because it hurts so good:
[Olivia is wretched.]
Now that’s how you drink wine.
Necessary wardrobe additions: a chunky, faux-special gold watch, bota wine bag, cat-eye glasses, waspy jewelry, and a chambray shirt.
Then I unearthed a bunch of pictures from my ‘putes that remind me of this cool, breezy, feminine, earthy Calypso girl:
Lots of white, linen, and neutrals.
It has a sort of Euro vibe to it, too. Think Bensimon sneakers, open-knit sweaters, scooters…
Bonus of profile 2: it’s effortless and layers are my crack.
[The silk Marant look above right is totally recreatable from pieces I have; this might sway the whole vote.]
Necessary wardrobe additions: ukulele, espadrilles, vintage maillot, ethnic cross-body bag.
This one is a given:
[Above images courtesy 5 Inch and Up.]
For dinners out, and a humidity-proof do:
[Image left courtesy A Butterfly By Day; image right courtesy Kate Moss’s otherworldly physique.]
Necessary wardrobe additions: crochet cover-up, Panama hat, drug dog-proof luggage (kidding, kidding), and Keith Richards’ VIP status.
I don’t know. I’ll probably just end up in Rob’s t-shirt and a bathing suit the whole time—as a native Floridian, I am not fooled by the grandeur of warmth and, in that vein, I can just as easily resume daily leg shaving as I can fall back into t-shirt-khaki-shorts-no-jewelry thing from morning to night.
We have just 3 weeks to make me think otherwise.