Summer on the Riviera
We spent a summer on the Riviera, slipping between villages by train and sea. We spent long afternoons swimming from one curve of the coast to the next, sometimes unsure if we were in France or Italy. The borders blur here—not just on maps, but in the food, the architecture, the cadence of local customs. It’s a place where time loosens its grip, where you lose track of days.
One of our first mornings there, we took an early morning train to the heart of Old Nice. The shops weren’t yet open, and the tangle of cobblestone alleyways was still cool from the night. We made our way down to the city square, the Cours Saleya, for its weekly open-air antiques market. One collector in particular caught my eye. Her table was spread with iconic French tea towels: white linen in an array of red stripe patterns. She explained how “à l’époque ancienne,” before marrying, young girls would prepare a trousseau of linens for her future home, embroidering each with her initials so as not to mix them with other women’s hanging to dry at the village washhouse.
Around the bend, in Beaulieu-sur-Mer, the humid sea air slowed our pace significantly. The heat would settle in by breakfast and our clothes would cling to us thickly. A morning market proved a godsend. While dodging the sun and jumping from one awning’s shade to the next, I stumbled upon a set of linen dresses. The vendor explained that linen is iconic to the Riviera, and for good reason. Linen absorbs moisture without feeling wet. It dries quickly, hangs loosely, and stays cool and breathable no matter the weather. She had dresses in bright white, sky blue, and sand. I asked for my size, and she explained that her dresses are only one size and that no matter your shape or height, they always seem to fit. To my surprise, she was right.
I spent most of the rest of our summer in that dress.
Further down the coast, in Èze, high above the sea, we climbed winding stairways past cliffside rose gardens and pastel shutters. From the top of the village, we could see miles out to sea. Sailboats dotted the shores, and clouds the sky. We found a little perfumery where the region’s lavender and orange blossom had been distilled into tiny bottles.
Afternoons stretched long in the Riviera. Bicycles took us from one beach to the next along a miles-long seaside promenade. Locals strolled the village squares with baskets of apricots, melons, and basil, and we followed suit, picking up fruit, fresh bread, and a hunk of cheese for impromptu beach picnics. We ran down the stairs to the seashore, spread our towels on the pebbled sand, and let the hours pass floating the cool, gentle waters of the bay.
In the evenings, Villefranche-sur-Mer was our favorite haunt. We wandered up and down the seaside village’s narrow, ochre-colored alleys. Some alleys brought views of the sea below; others brought the clink of cutlery and the distant chatter of late-night diners. One corridor opened into a courtyard crammed with tables and chairs, hungry gourmands, and waiters with platters of fish, lamb, and cheese bustling between tables. Laundry hung from balconies above. Shutters opened onto the courtyard. A couple sat two stories above our heads, wine glasses in hand, leisurely watching the courtyard beneath. There, flanked all around by a four-story patchwork of faded stucco and bistro lights, we dined as the French. Violet artichokes with warm goat cheese from a local farm. Iberian pork tenderloin glazed in honey, ginger, and rosemary. Slow-braised lamb shank with caramelized garlic. Our waiter laughingly told us they had to close by midnight or the neighbors above would complain.
These places—Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, Cap d’Ail, Ventimiglia—each carry their own flavors, their own rhythms. Many bear the suffix “sur-Mer” ("on the sea") because everything here faces the water. Even the buildings seem to lean toward it, weathered by centuries of salt and sun.
Our Summer on the Riviera collection was born from these moments and memories. It’s full of pieces that feel at home in this world of seaside mornings and sun-baked afternoons: breezy linen dresses (the very ones we found in Beaulieu!) for café lounging or market mornings, woven bicycle baskets for flower runs and bakery stops, picnic accessories that make any coastline, whether the Mediterranean or your neighborhood lake, feel touched by Riviera magic.
Every detail nods to that borderland spirit. Just like the towns themselves, this collection blends the best of both sides: French ease, Italian charm, and a shared sense of sun-soaked simplicity.
Wherever you find yourself this summer, let it be woven with sun-speckled mornings, long lunches, and golden hours by the water. Whether you're booking a one-way ticket to Nice or unfurling a blanket in your own backyard, we hope our Summer on the Riviera collection brings the slow joy, faded glamour, and effortless beauty of the coast to you.