About the founder

I grew up on Long Island, where summer had its own logic. Out until dark, no one calling you back. Sand in your shoes, salt in your hair, days that went wherever they wanted. Time marked by which restaurants had opened for the season, which summer house came next. The obligations fell away. What remained was the thing itself: time with people you chose, in a place that mattered.

That feeling has never left me. I find it every time the light shifts in May, every time a warm evening opens up with nowhere to be, every time the pace slows enough to remember what actually sustains you.

It doesn't require a second home or weeks away. A weekend. A single day at the coast with the people you love.

Summer does that. It always has.