Thursday in Florida. My mom’s birthday is tomorrow.
Today, we wanted to get out of the house. My choice was to take Steffie somewhere she’d never been… and yet there was still shopping. We headed to Palm Beach and Worth Avenue.
Long before there was Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive, there was Palm Beach and Worth Avenue. Beverly Hills is nouveau. Palm Beach is old line.
We crossed onto Palm Beach Island at Southern Boulevard, making the sweeping left around Mar-A-Lago (Hi Donald) and then north on Ocean Boulevard, aka A1A. When we hit Worth Avenue, we turned left.
It was eerie. It looked like the day after a neutron bomb. Worth Avenue had cars parked on both sides of the street, but there was no foot traffic. It looked deserted.
The cars were a show in and of themselves. I saw Ferraris, Masseratis (yes, more than one), Rolls, Mercedes and Porsche. Only on Palm Beach does a Lexus represent Chevy values.
Beyond the curbline around 25% of the shops were still closed for the summer. September… hot and sweaty September… is not the season in Palm Beach.
Stefanie lit up as she looked around and recognized the names. Every high end, decadent, over priced retailer was there.
Guys don’t get it. Certainly, I don’t get it. Stefanie does. It’s been there from birth.
We walked around for an hour or so, then headed south. Steffie left carrying a shopping bag. I can’t tell you more than that as we have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy in the Fox Family.
We took A1A home, passing through Palm Beach, South Palm Beach and Manalapan. It is difficult to fathom the amazing estates that front the ocean and Intracoastal. Some straddle the road and front both.
Mainly the buildings in Palm Beach and along A1A are what I consider “Spanish Mission” style. Whether that’s the real name or not, it’s what I call it. They are appropriate and strikingly beautiful.