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[bigletter]Well I knew this year’s resortwear guide would likely hit different, as last year’s required a not so effective coverup {pun fully intended} of my now eight month old delight. Le bèbè and le covid which will never sound chic no matter how many French words you put with it, have been perhaps the biggest barriers to finding sun in an exotic locale these last few years.
But don’t you fret. I live in Southern California, thank goodness.
When I asked my mother if she’d rather celebrate her birthday/holiday/being-an-awesome-grandmother to our little Parketto bird with a mini getaway or a bag, of course she chose the quality time with moi. So I booked a stay far from my never ending responsibilities at home in search of some sun and fun in the dessert.[/bigletter]
Palm Springs is what most people know as a chic little town full of mid century modern architecture and fabulous gay men. Which is accurate, along with many retirees and families from all over Southern California craving a local escape from the 50 degree weather in Los Angeles come wintertime. What people might not know is that Palm Springs is the tourist brand name essentially for an entire dessert community of many more equally enticing places to escape and live full time like Rancho Mirage, La Quinta and Palm Desert to name a few.
This time around my Instagram eyes fell right onto a relatively new space called The Sands Hotel and Spa. A perfectly pink, Moroccan inspired retreat designed by Martyn Lawrence Bullard, with whom my mother has always been obsessed with. Fun fact, we actually saw him on our last trip to La Quinta while dining at The Colony Palms Hotel, which I believe he may have had a hand in designing as well.
Needless to say my mother was thrilled.
Eager to get in some R&R within a 24ish hour time frame we set out early in the morning arriving to breakfast at the Parker Palm Springs right as the rain had cleared. Norma’s gives all the 60’s kitchen vibes you need set in bold bright colors while serving breakfast all day long. I’m not much of a morning eater but I did enjoy the crab louie while my mother swooned over her eggs.
A part of me couldn’t help but crave a Tom Collins from the stunningly chic green stone encrusted minibar while walking back through the iconic double orange doors to fetch our car. Of course there was no bartender there at 10am but that didn’t stop me from practicing my pseudo post-sport cocktail order in a tennis skirt I know I’ll never get sweaty in.
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After checking into The Sands and swiftly admiring our room with a chic little Moroccan inspired patio we jumped into our swimsuits {mine linked here} and headed straight to the pool.
Fortunately we had it, and most of the hotel, all to ourselves, a bonus always but especially in the age of the ominous omicron variant! Within a matter of minutes tropical drinks were ordered and the magazines collecting dust on my coffee table for months were finally about to get read!
I can’t tell you how good it felt to finally have this type of quality time with my mom. We’ve spent a good nine years living many states apart before she finally arrived to the west coast in the midst of the pandemic, just before I got pregnant with Parker and became a mom: she an actively involved and wonderful grandma. We see each other all the time but rarely have the opportunity to catch up in an environment like this one, unbeholden to nap windows or the constant love fest with little Parker!
So it’s safe to say that we were quite honestly living our best life.
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And that was before seeing this magnificent moroccan spa!
“Martyn, you’ve outdone yourself,” as my mother would say.
It’s the most beautiful spa I’ve ever seen. No offense to whoever designs most modern spa facilities, but you need to make it more chic.
And pink!
I never used to value massages before turning 30, I always saw it as less money for shoes and clothes, but now all I want on vacation is a hotel robe and knot free hips! Apparently it’s the running and spinning, I was informed I had a multitude of knots on both sides and in my shoulders too. And as important as exercising is I need to find a way to budget in some legitimate recovery for my body by stretching more and getting more frequent massages to release all the stress of being active and containing my client’s trauma.
Like my friend Emma always says, “we only get one body, take care of it!”
The massage was great and I highly recommend a visit to the spa for any service which you don’t need to be a hotel guest to book.
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After my massage I headed back to the pool to swap with my mom before her appointment, who’d been doing butterfly strokes in the heated pool the entire time. I ordered a little mezze myself and finally read the Vogue article on SJP and her new series And Just Like That…
Of course she’s wearing feathers. And so am I…
Then I took a little trip over to the hot tub, as instructed by my diligent masseur and delved into a book written by Emily Ratajkowski, befittingly titled My Body. I didn’t finish yet but almost every word she wrote resonated. I appreciated the way she spoke in particular about her evolution in identifying herself as a feminist and it settled a lot of the sheer sadness I felt watching the appallingly sexist music video that catapulted her to fame.
Before long the hot tub got too hot and it was time to rinse off and get ready for an early drink at the hotel bar before heading to dinner dolled up in my groovy feather cuffs!
And chic little cocktail to go with it. It’s the Cabana Colada, the same drink my mom and I enjoyed poolside but this time with it’s signature and edible magenta flower garnish. It was delicious, a little foamy at the top and not too sweet.
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Then off we went to Melvyn’s at the Ingleside Inn for dinner, a charming spanish style hotel with a restaurant that perfectly embodied old Hollywood, vacation edition. We arrived with a warm welcome in the rain, piano playing, dance floor open and champagne poured in honor of my mother’s upcoming birthday. I wasn’t over the moon with my truffle risotto but I did love the French onion soup and my mother went crazy for her prawns. We had a little something sweet before jetting back to our hotel for an early bedtime with season two of Emily in Paris and the sea salt chocolate caramels at the mini bar I just couldn’t resist!
It was a luxury to get into bed early, as was my attempt to try and sleep in unfortunately!
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The next morning we drooled over the cozy and cute interiors of The Pink Cabana but ultimately opted to sit outside for extra safety and embraced the sun as it eventually made its way out from the clouds as we sipped our warm coffees. My mom had her first and favorite avocado toast, marking her official Southern California debut. After a nice chat with a friendly waiter we went back to our room to pack up and change into some safari worthy digs for one last adventure at The Living Desert.
We came here on our last trip to Palm Springs to feed the giraffes, who unfortunately weren’t feeling the rain this time around. “3,000 pounds on slits don’t do well on slippery surfaces” as one wise zookeeper lamented. I also felt a tad guilty seeing giraffes without the biggest fan of all, mister Parker himself. But we still made the most of our time there and saw a bunch of wild African pups, a rhinoceros and an adorable emu before heading back home, relaxed, refreshed and already ready for more resort.
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