I somehow got on the media list, and was sent an advance copy of The Debutante Divorcee (with a letter that began "Dear Interviewer..."). And thanks to two cups of late-night coffee at Rosa Mexicano on Saturday, I read it cover to cover. It's great. I mean, not "a life-changing literary masterpiece!" type of great, but it was "couldn't put it down until I was finished at 3:42 a.m." great.
It didn't hurt that she mentions the grassy single runway on Mustique on the first page. My husband and I went there for our 10th anniversary this fall.
I'd highly recommend the Cotton House--luxury at its finest. Would also recommend the Cotton House spa, although not the papaya body wrap (nothing that couldn't be accomplished with, say, papaya, Saran Wrap and a hot towel). Stock up on the body lotion that comes in the room--it just smells like Mustique (much like LaMer and Jo Malone Amber & Lavender smells like Palm Beach--to me, anyway), even if it doesn't do that great a job of actually moisturizing. Firefly is a good restaurant, if you can get over the rather boisterous (okay, crass, loud--he was next to us at dinner and made for a rather miserable experience) owner. And Basil's is a beachfront bar like no other. Not great food, but cold beer and where else can you hang out and have a reasonable chance that Mick Jagger might just stop by (in season, of course)?
A: A golf cart, a pool boy serving fresh fruit popsicles, and waves lapping at my freshly pedicured feet, Manuel Canovas wedges at the ready.
Q: No question, just wanted to rehash the fabulousness of tooling around a warm island on a loud golf cart after receiving PERFECT--I do mean impeccable--service from Rodney, our pool boy.