a few nights ago we made our way over to shelter island, a quiet, nonchalant haven of long island, which when you drive out to the coast, oozes a dreamy, quixotic, french riviera essence.  

i kept shaking my brain out of a cap d’antibes reverie, reminding myself that i was not in a passport-requiring, faraway land. 

on shelter island, children romp whilst the adults make use of their own types of tumblers, buckets, corkscrews, and things “shaken” not stirred.

it really is an island, so we ferried our way across the water as the sun began her reluctant and kaleidoscopic descent.

fancy shoes need apply.

here i am plotting my relocation eastward.*

we dined at sunset beach, a restaurant and bar attached to its namesake hotel, a luxurious, south-of-france styled auberge run by andre balazs, who has hit home runs with his other hotels chateau marmont, the standard, and the mercer

literally steps to the sand, the view is unbeatable. we caught the grand finale as the sun set her sleepy head underneath the ocean covers. 

inside the view is just as pretty. i couldn’t keep my eyes off this hostess. she was a dish of summer fresh. 

don’t let this empty bar fool you, as the night and dj spins on, this floor fills with manhattan’s most fashionable as they fight their way out of the city heat, and maybe into a new stranger’s bed. 

we straight-laced couples kept it tame….a glass of rose’ here, a hot fudge sundae there, maybe some making out later? 

woo to the hoo. 


 *photo by meghan venison