Considering that I'm a girl who grew up smack in the middle of a whole lot of concrete, it never ceases to surprise me how much beach is apparently sitting there in my blood. I mean, I like a good pair of leather pants and some heels, but if I had to wear flip-flops every single day for the rest of my life that would be just fine by me (and I stand by the assertion that Havianas are one of of mankind's Great Inventions).
What I packed for our four days in Key Largo: "sensible" (for me, anyway; "sensible" is an extremely relative term) bathing suits that I can actually haul around dive tanks in, a pair of nylon shorts that heavily resemble Umbros (remember those?!?!) and that I'm actually rawther into, muscle tees that function as beach cover-ups but that easily go out at night (here, at least) with the addition of a bunch of jewelry…and flip-flops.
There is a pair of leather shorts sitting in my suitcase for our stopover in Miami Beach (where our friend Jeremy is taking us out to a place where I suspect Umbros won't fly), and a hairdryer just in case…but there are few styling tools better than the sun and the sand.