Sociology and the boondoggle
I don't think I'd ever choose to visit Palm Beach, but Jon's firm took us to Florida in November and I haven't been traveling much this year anyhow. From the flight down, full of snowbirders of a particular feather, to the woman who checked in after us, who all the clerks greeted, "Welcome back, Mrs. Guggenheim," it was a different kind of place.
Because we are our own sort, Monday morning we went diving at 5am so we could see the Blue Heron Bridge. I think it was my first ever shore dive and certainly my first ever dive in the continental US. And my 29th dive overall. And yet somehow, I was a complete mess. I had trouble maintaining my buoyancy: I've never been great at it, but this time, I was a disaster. Not sure if it's because we were only diving in 16' of water or if maybe there was something wrong with the equipment, because I'd press and press and press the button to deflate and nothing would happen for a while. One of the reasons we were diving is that we want to make sure we dive every 2 years so we don't have to do another refresher, so I don't have to do the mask clearing exercise again. Guess whose mask filled with water. I failed at clearing it and then my buoyancy went to hell and suddenly I was on the surface. *sighs* I didn't love our dive guide, so I'm glad it was a lower-risk dive. Because it was so shallow, we were under for an hour, looking mostly at crustaceans although we also saw rays, jawfish, all the usual fishes, and a just bitten barracuda. We saw sunk motorboats in the dark around the pilings, which was somehow more spooky than the wrecks I dove in Darwin, possibly because they were more identifiably boats.
We spent the rest of the day at the pool before walking over to The Breakers. I thought our hotel was fancy, but this beat all. We walked around admiring the architecture and got a drink at HMF, with the most exquisite service, by servers in black dresses and very red lipstick, which almost made it worth its price. Dinner with Jon's firm was less formal, but I met another young partner's wife, who has a daughter almost exactly a year older than my son, and had a nice time.
Jon had a full day of meetings, so my new friend and I went bike riding for 2 hours, which turned out to be only 5mi with not having ridden a bike in years, dodging traffic etc. I spent the afternoon at what I thought was a consignment shop, but turned out to be a church donation store. I'm still thinking about the Escada suit I didn't take home (because the pants were hopeless and I needed an extra snap on the bust), but I'm excited about the blazer that fit perfectly (even if it originally came from Macy's). The best part of dinner was dressing in a bodycon LBD and getting asked if I'd had my makeup professionally done. The waiter thought I was fabulous so he poured an absurd amount of sherry into my lobster bisque and then second dessert came in an ice swan.
Wednesday was our last day there, so I lifted, packed, and biked to the best consignment shop on the island. They are very, very good salespeople: even though I was a little sweaty, and wearing a t-shirt and shorts, they encouraged me to try on an Alexander McQueen white rabbit bolero jacket and flip through the Hermes scarfs. I tried on a Rag & Bone dress that fit like a glove, but alas I don't have nearly enough opportunities to wear cutout black dresses. I checked out handbags, because I've been trying to get an upgrade to my current afterwork bag for years. There was a gorgeous bag by Ferragamo, but the leather was so dry, I'd be embarrassed to be seen by a bootblack friend. They had quite a few bags by Kieselstein Cord, whose work I'd never seen before, but I fell in love with. I took home a black bag of his with an alligator buckle. The prices were insane - one item was listed for the same amount as the price on the still-attached tag - but the saleswoman helping me made it clear every price was negotiable. I bought my bag for half the tag price, which was about fair based on my later research. The women who came in were definitely different from even the matrons of Greenwich or the ladies who lunch on the Upper East Side. It was also perfect timing to be looking at handbags as my carry-on's handle snapped on the way to the airport and I threw out my littlest cocktail bag when I got home.
I walked along Worth Avenue, their main shopping drag, and checked out Il Papiro, whose Florentine store I'd visited in 2000; a custom suit shop with a store on Lexington Ave; a leather handbag store at which I'd've bought a bag if I hadn't already bought one; and Island Company, which handed me a rum punch that kept me in the store far longer than I'd've stayed otherwise. I went back to the hotel and hung out at the bar with the other spouses and waited for my poor exhausted husband, who looked even more wiped out than our last climbing vacation. I liked the shopping, but I miss vacationing in third world countries.
Because we are our own sort, Monday morning we went diving at 5am so we could see the Blue Heron Bridge. I think it was my first ever shore dive and certainly my first ever dive in the continental US. And my 29th dive overall. And yet somehow, I was a complete mess. I had trouble maintaining my buoyancy: I've never been great at it, but this time, I was a disaster. Not sure if it's because we were only diving in 16' of water or if maybe there was something wrong with the equipment, because I'd press and press and press the button to deflate and nothing would happen for a while. One of the reasons we were diving is that we want to make sure we dive every 2 years so we don't have to do another refresher, so I don't have to do the mask clearing exercise again. Guess whose mask filled with water. I failed at clearing it and then my buoyancy went to hell and suddenly I was on the surface. *sighs* I didn't love our dive guide, so I'm glad it was a lower-risk dive. Because it was so shallow, we were under for an hour, looking mostly at crustaceans although we also saw rays, jawfish, all the usual fishes, and a just bitten barracuda. We saw sunk motorboats in the dark around the pilings, which was somehow more spooky than the wrecks I dove in Darwin, possibly because they were more identifiably boats.
We spent the rest of the day at the pool before walking over to The Breakers. I thought our hotel was fancy, but this beat all. We walked around admiring the architecture and got a drink at HMF, with the most exquisite service, by servers in black dresses and very red lipstick, which almost made it worth its price. Dinner with Jon's firm was less formal, but I met another young partner's wife, who has a daughter almost exactly a year older than my son, and had a nice time.
Jon had a full day of meetings, so my new friend and I went bike riding for 2 hours, which turned out to be only 5mi with not having ridden a bike in years, dodging traffic etc. I spent the afternoon at what I thought was a consignment shop, but turned out to be a church donation store. I'm still thinking about the Escada suit I didn't take home (because the pants were hopeless and I needed an extra snap on the bust), but I'm excited about the blazer that fit perfectly (even if it originally came from Macy's). The best part of dinner was dressing in a bodycon LBD and getting asked if I'd had my makeup professionally done. The waiter thought I was fabulous so he poured an absurd amount of sherry into my lobster bisque and then second dessert came in an ice swan.
Wednesday was our last day there, so I lifted, packed, and biked to the best consignment shop on the island. They are very, very good salespeople: even though I was a little sweaty, and wearing a t-shirt and shorts, they encouraged me to try on an Alexander McQueen white rabbit bolero jacket and flip through the Hermes scarfs. I tried on a Rag & Bone dress that fit like a glove, but alas I don't have nearly enough opportunities to wear cutout black dresses. I checked out handbags, because I've been trying to get an upgrade to my current afterwork bag for years. There was a gorgeous bag by Ferragamo, but the leather was so dry, I'd be embarrassed to be seen by a bootblack friend. They had quite a few bags by Kieselstein Cord, whose work I'd never seen before, but I fell in love with. I took home a black bag of his with an alligator buckle. The prices were insane - one item was listed for the same amount as the price on the still-attached tag - but the saleswoman helping me made it clear every price was negotiable. I bought my bag for half the tag price, which was about fair based on my later research. The women who came in were definitely different from even the matrons of Greenwich or the ladies who lunch on the Upper East Side. It was also perfect timing to be looking at handbags as my carry-on's handle snapped on the way to the airport and I threw out my littlest cocktail bag when I got home.
I walked along Worth Avenue, their main shopping drag, and checked out Il Papiro, whose Florentine store I'd visited in 2000; a custom suit shop with a store on Lexington Ave; a leather handbag store at which I'd've bought a bag if I hadn't already bought one; and Island Company, which handed me a rum punch that kept me in the store far longer than I'd've stayed otherwise. I went back to the hotel and hung out at the bar with the other spouses and waited for my poor exhausted husband, who looked even more wiped out than our last climbing vacation. I liked the shopping, but I miss vacationing in third world countries.