A hardcore tapas craving and need to escape the gray drizzle of Paris in early spring is reason enough for a weekend of Spanish sun. I found this vintage dress from 1940’s in a long-closed thrift shop in Miami and had yet to find the perfect occasion to wear it until this trip.
I always imagined the dress belonging to some WASPy East Coast debutante enjoying a mint julep under the shade of a giant coral hat at a derby party. Its flirty pleated skirt and summery shades adapted perfectly to exploring this timeless Spanish beach town followed by a tapas bar crawl and a watching some important soccer game in a bar with a particularly heated group of spaniards later in the night. I was bribed with a gelato.
There is a striking similarity between San Sebastián and the paint chipped glamour of Biarritz. They share an air of being faded, which is part of the romanticism of these cities. There is something authentically old fashioned about San Sabastián–it could very well have looked exactly like this seventy years ago–it elicits a feel of being timeless, and unconsciously so. The city gives off warmth; it begs you to savor. What makes this place so special is that its pace, like the light, is unlike anywhere else in the world.