The first time I ever came to Bal Harbour Shops was the day Le Zoo opened. My favorite part of the evening? People-watching. When you are able to be where you are, and put your phone down, and simply observe what’s happening around you, magic happens. This is not your average micro-universe. Bal Harbour Shops is one of the only remaining family-owned malls in the nation. And the most glamorous.
It’s been three years since that day, when I was still new to Miami, and yet, this particular place has never ceased to surpirse me. If you want to make an entrance, or you are just having a good hair day, the valet is the way. Of course, the parking lot is huge, but the valet–perfectly located in between Carpaccio and Le Zoo–will shine a spotlight on you. As I write this, and sip my tea, a beautiful woman dressed fully in Gucci drops her keys at the valet.
Confidence is a funny thing. It’s almost impossible to fake it. It’s not a matter of beauty, it’s not a matter of style.Those who have it shine in all their splendor as they stride through the halls of this place, those who don’t look uncomfortable. Then there are those who simply don’t care. They walk from store to store totally unaware of the world unfolding around them. They live in their heads, and I love that. Those are the ones I like the most.
Isn’t it interesting how bags can become shields? Twenty-somethings hold their Chanels closely, while women my age rely on Goyard. Céline transcends generations. When did teenagers start to dress so well? Beautiful 13-year-olds in Fendi from head to toe, followed by toddlers wearing similar looks. When I was 13, I didn’t understand a thing about fashion. It takes a lifetime to develop personal style that communicates who you are on the inside. When you can achieve it, the narrative of your life shifts unexpectedly. And this is where my journey began.