Our rental house is in Mt. Pleasant, a popular Charleston neighborhood between historical downtown and Sullivan’s Island. Working from the house most days, I make a priority to take a beach walk with the dogs at sunrise or sunset (both sufficiently steal one’s breath). The frequent and nearly continuous access to the Atlantic shoreline has has changed my relationship with the sea. Nothing quite resets my heartbeat, priorities and perspective like crashing waves against the shoreline…and the comforting thought that Bill Murray lives here too (fact).
For those not familiar with Charleston, it’s a fairly vast city. It boasts three destinations for prime Atlantic shoreline — Sullivan’s Island, Isle of Palms (IOP) and Folly Beach. Our preferred, without debate, is Sullivan’s Island. The white seashore is pristine, dolphin spotting guaranteed, restaurants which rival NYC hotspots (not remotely joking) and it was on the island, during one of Charleston’s famously fiery sunrises, that we decided to take an extended city break in the south. As we head home to NYC in spring, I’m grateful I stepped over my, admittedly, bratty city attitude to experience life in the south. I’m even slightly panicking because I know my ocean sunrises won’t be a part of my morning coffee run in Manhattan; how do humans live without that?
I’ve learned…your bones don’t know enchanting until you experience a southern summer thunderstorm…or take an afternoon nap as an orchestra of cicadas give you a personal performance. You never respect nature’s power until an Atlantic hurricane pummels pecans onto the roof to the beat of an AK-47. You don’t know southern beauty until you watch Spanish Moss dance on a live oak. You don’t know American history until you walk in the footsteps of slaves who sought freedom. You don’t know American cuisine until you’ve had southern BBQ, fried green tomatoes and buttermilk biscuits. You don’t know proper etiquette until you attend a Charlestonian dinner party in an antebellum mansion. You don’t know good men until you instinctively understand the difference between Rhetts and Ashleys. Add pushing a boat out of a sandbank at low tide (just wait for the tide to come back FYI) and making y’all a guest word in vocabulary…Charleston gave me southern trophies I’ll forever cherish.
On the second week of every month, I’ll be announcing a new editorial theme in the romantic jet-setter narrative to celebrate all month long. Be sure to sign up to my newsletter, as KG subscribers will be the first to know the story to be told.
January’s Story: A Southern Romance
I’m looking forward to these next couple weeks, telling you the story of Charleston and why it’s a destination I believe preserves the summit of American elegance, artisanship and classic style. Also coming this month to KG.com:
- A new vintage fashion column that celebrates America’s most glamorous style icons and jet-setters. Spoiler alert: recreates.
- A full comprehensive guide to my Charleston, including where to dine, explore, shop, entertain and experience the best of modern southern luxury. I’m awed by this town’s fervent dedication to preserving the art of American hospitality.
- The deep exploration of classic southern elegance, style, beauty and entertaining.
- A few magical southern travel moments beyond Charleston
Wishing you all a gorgeous Friday and a criminally cozy weekend. I can’t wait to tell the story of my southern affair next week.