The look at a recent trivia night at the Colony Hotel in Palm Beach, Florida, was anything but trivial. Nor was it modest. Padded bags read “money.” Feathered bags read “peacock,” along with tiaras, sky-blue blazers, slim white jeans, and tweedy hot pants. Men wore velvet slippers. Women wore white ankle boots, wedge espadrilles and Chanel spectator pumps, a shoe perfectly named for a voyeuristic poolside scene.
The crowd of 20- to 30-somethings skew surprisingly young for a secluded beach town known for its twenty-seven hibernators, discriminatory private clubs, old-fashioned socialites, and former President Donald J. Trump’s Mar-a-Lago resort. Social observers have called it a “youth quake.”
They embrace venerable ancient sites like the Colony, a mid-century gem rediscovered during the pandemic after it languished as a staid pink-and-bamboo relic. Now, according to the hotel management, it has become the kind of social media buddy that follows half of its bookings to Instagram links.
“Young people are discovering all the old stuff here and posting about it, and the old people are amused to see them make such a fuss,” said Celerie Kemble, 48, the interior designer who, along with her mother, Mimi McMakin (both are residents of Palm Beach), renovated the Colony’s lobby and 90 rooms. “It’s all kind of a hoax, but it’s fun.”
The social revitalization is not limited to the Colony. The narrow island of Palm Beach — 26 miles long with many billionaires according to a 2021 Forbes ranking and a median single-family home sale price of about $9.9 million according to Redfin — has attracted young arrivals from New York City and elsewhere, who fled during the pandemic. Many first stayed with their parents, then bought houses and, liking life and parties better, decided to stay.
Sofia Vergara, Kris Jenner, Kelly Klein, Daisy Soros, Tommy and Dee Hilfiger, Sylvester Stallone and his daughters and others have been spotted in the sun-filled courtyard this winter. Inside, dinners continue until midnight in an interior reminiscent of a yacht off the coast of Sardinia and buzzing like a nightclub, in an area where restaurants used to close at 10pm
But now the social focus is shifting to newer restaurants popular with the see-and-be-seen set.
The hardest reservation on Worth Avenue, the city’s upscale shopping street, is Le Bilboquet, an outpost of the Upper East Side’s French-inspired bistro, which opened in Palm Beach in 2021. Lola 41, a Nantucket seafood restaurant, opened at the White Elephant hotel in 2020 with a bustling courtyard that’s great for multi-generational people-watching. Nearby is Cucina Palm Beach, a small Italian restaurant that becomes a late night hot spot with a disco ball and bottle service.
A new English-style social club, Carriage House, designed to appeal to a younger audience, is expected to open later this year. It is modeled after Annabel’s in London, with bars, dining and games rooms, but no dance floor to disturb the neighbours.
“Palm Beach can be an intimidating place if you’re not connected,” says Sarah Wetenhall, 45, who with her husband, Andrew, bought the Colony Hotel from her father-in-law in 2016 and gave it a makeover, changing the jacket dress code and dress code. remove tie before dinner, book celebrity trainers like Isaac Boots, and replace the old-fashioned cabaret space with pop-up shops.
“We wanted to lower the wall and the privet hedges,” added Ms Wetenhall, “and now people are saying we are like a club without dues.”
Places like the Colony Hotel, which have become an influencer-friendly destination for the younger crowd, offer something different from the local clubs, which have traditionally revolved around golf, tennis, bridge and cocktails. Recent events have included a dinner for Vogue, a party for Martha Stewart’s CBD gummies, a Veronica Beard runway show, and art readings by Christie’s.
Bettina Anderson, 35, a third-generation Palm Beach resident who models for magazines and works for the Paradise Fund, a charitable organization she founded with other young philanthropists to protect the environment and at-risk citizens, said she hotel come to life . “It’s still what it was when my parents came, but it’s much younger.”
Nick Hissom, 29, runs Wynn Fine Art Gallery on Worth Avenue and sells the modern collection of his stepfather, the casino mogul Steve Wynn, as well as emerging artists through Aktion Art in the same location. He moved out of New York City in 2020, joining a wave of other gallery owners who settled during the pandemic, including Pace and Lehmann Maupin.
“I used to come to visit with the family boat, and now we’ve moved here and immersed ourselves in it,” Mr Hissom said of himself and his friend, Kameron Ramirez, a 23-year-old film producer.
Michael Gregson Reinert, 30, moved to Palm Beach from Charleston, SC a few years ago, positioning himself as a social media expert and connector for fashion brands.
“I just kind of integrated here with no pretensions,” said Mr. Reinert, who was recently featured in a Palm Beach Illustrated magazine, posing by the sea with his jawline against the horizon. “I can fill a room with the right people so that if a brand wants a shoot or dinner, everyone is beautiful.”
Some longtime locals are being hurt by the younger social group demanding immediate access to clubs or suddenly overcrowded private schools, or pressuring the architectural review board to allow larger homes to raze gardens to the ground.
“It’s not so much rich people’s problems as challenges,” said Liza Pulitzer, a real estate agent whose mother was Lilly, the local fashion icon. “But it’s part of buying a life here.”
On a recent Thursday evening, Cavalier Galleries held an opening for the photographer Christophe von Hohenberg, which attracted the wealthy bon vivants. Nick Mele, 39, who is known in the city as a Slim Aarons type, photographed the scene.
“In the eight years since I’ve been here, it’s been a different place and it’s booming,” Mr. Mele said, lamenting the lack of parking on Worth Avenue. “I just hope we don’t lose all our old Palm Beach characters.”
One of those characters came in moments later: Jane Holzer, the Warhol “It girl” and subject of Tom Wolfe’s 1964 essay “The Girl of the Year.” She has deep Palm Beach roots and rents out her space to Le Bilboquet. There was a show of her Warhol portraits, including one of herself, at the nearby Ben Brown Fine Arts. Ms. Holzer, 81, does not hate the influx of young people.
“They’re all my friends, and I think this is the best thing that’s happened to this town,” she said as a stream of benefactors, including Mr. Hissom and Mrs. Anderson, greeted her with reverence. “Andy always loved watching the kids in New York, and now I get to do the same here.”
