Everyone knows that person who spends weeks sniffing around travel blogs, going deep into Tripadvisor rabbit holes, collecting Google docs from friends of friends, and creating A Beautiful Mind–style spreadsheets to come up with the best vacations and itineraries possible. In this recurring series, we find those people who’ve done all the work for you and have them walk us through a particularly wonderful, especially well-thought-out vacation they took that you can actually steal.
New Orleans has a commendable, if not wholly good, reputation as a vacation destination. The weather is warm, the music is great, and the city is generally regarded as an excellent place for a weekend of wanton depravity. The reasons I love it, however, are much more chaste. New Orleans is a living example of America before it was consolidated into a singular nation, evidence of what life could have been if Puritan values hadn’t been foisted upon us all. The whole city is alive with the spirit of a past that feels very different from that which we were taught in school. Oh, and the vintage shopping is really, really good.
When my husband went to help my cousin open his beautiful New Orleans wine bar, the Tell Me Bar (1235 Saint Thomas St.), he came back and regaled me with so many tales of the Crescent City’s appeal that we booked a trip back for the two of us just a few months later. New Orleans has since become our favorite place to visit for a quick weekend getaway. I have perfected our itinerary to include the best of the city’s ageless appeal and fashion history-specific pleasures — not a plastic Hurricane cup in sight. You’ll need no more than 24 hours to enjoy these things, should you need to sneak away from whatever bachelorette party trip you find yourself on or, in my case at least, convince someone to watch your kids for a night or two. I put it to the test during a recent visit for my aforementioned cousin’s wedding, just to be sure. I returned home deeply inspired, educated in new facets of history, and only ever-so-slightly hungover.
7:00 a.m.: Wake up in a convent
My husband, Gabriel, and I wake up early, even on vacation. In fact, sometimes we like to wake up earlier than usual to run through our schedule for the day — everyone relaxes differently. This kind of behavior feels welcome at Hotel Peter and Paul (2317 Burgundy St.), which offers places to stay in the schoolhouse and the nunnery of a 19th-century church. The rooms are pretty, stocked with the best-smelling soaps, and priced very reasonably. The hotel as a whole can feel a little austere given its past, but I like it as a respite from the hedonism of the rest of the city. Ask the front desk to unlock the church for you if it isn’t open during your stay — it is spectacular.
9:00 a.m.: Linger over beignets in City Park
I was absolutely delighted to see locals walking to work with bags of beignets and cups of chicory coffee on my first visit to New Orleans — it’s the same feeling that visitors to New York have when they see us actually eating an everything bagel. Authenticity aside, what could be better than having fried dough and milky cafe au lait for breakfast? Our local friends told us to skip the chaos of the main outpost, and visit the Cafe du Monde (56 Dreyfous Dr.) in City Park, where saxophone drifts in the breeze and Spanish moss sways while you dust yourself in powdered sugar.
As a historian, I have mixed feelings about cemeteries positioned as tourist attractions, but the French-style tombs of New Orleans are a beautiful and haunting piece of the city’s landscape (and not a product of New Orlean’s high water table, that’s a myth!). Saint Louis Cemetery No. 3 is located just outside City Park and is free to enter, should you want to have a peek.
10:30 a.m.: Saunter over to the French Quarter for some French linens
After beignets and a stroll through City Park to mitigate the sugar rush, we hopped in a cab back toward the French Quarter. This neighborhood might be best known for boozy Bourbon Street debauchery, but I much prefer it for its charming, slightly dusty shops. My first stop is always Rendezvous Linens and Lace (522 Saint Peter St.) for lace collars, monogrammed linen hankies, and ribboned tooth-fairy pouches for children. The whole place harkens back to New Orleans’s roots as a French colony in the 18th century, and it brings me great joy to see how little has changed in the shopping department — you can still buy a variety of bonnets.
After that, we headed to Arcadian Books & Prints (714 Orleans St.), which is stuffed with all sorts of treasures. The titles relating to local history are particularly good, but I can’t imagine not being able to find something you like hidden in the shop’s buckling shelves and nearly toppling piles.
At Vice & Graft (927 Royal St.), you can sift through New Orleans’s sexy and sporty past. The owners live above their store, and their status as French Quarter locals is testament enough to their expertise in all things New Orleans. Their vintage selection proves their chops, stocked with everything from boudoir slips stolen from the wardrobes of infamous local ladies to rare T-shirts celebrating the various victories at Caesar’s Superdome. I grabbed a handful of their homemade pins printed with 1920s women’s-rights slogans and, alternatively, 1980s Playboy photographs — they make for much better souvenirs than Mardi Gras beads.
1:00 p.m.: Eat fried-bologna sandwiches — and experience a very different type of history
Turkey and the Wolf (739 Jackson Ave.) is spread thick with nostalgia and mayonnaise. I ate one of the best sandwiches of my life (not exaggerating) off of a Happy Meal–inspired plastic plate, seated between Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles memorabilia and Grateful Dead posters. The overall effect should be annoying, but it has instead the jubilant, slightly stoned feeling of what I imagine it was like to lounge in your neighbor’s rec room after school. Don’t skip the cabbage salad, which is a perfect fish-sauced-laced, jalapeño-studded counterpoint to all of the aforementioned mayonnaise.
2:30 p.m.: Shop at the spectacular Century Girl Vintage
Lunch was just a short walk away from Century Girl Vintage (2023 Magazine St.), one of my favorite vintage stores in the country. The pastel-hued overwhelm inside includes Old Hollywood diamanté headpieces, Victorian bodices, and some very special contemporary designer pieces. It’s the perfect place to play dress up and pretend you’re in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette. On this trip, I left with a powder-blue Miu Miu S/S 2014 fur coat that I had been after for years — though I must admit, I’ve never left empty-handed.
4:00 p.m.: Treat yourself to a 1930s snow cone, then a paloma in a historic home
When the trademark New Orleans sticky-hot afternoon lag sets in, it’s time for shaved ice. At Hansen’s Sno-Bliz (4801 Tchoupitoulas St.) snow cones, or Sno-balls as they’re known here, are still cranked out on the same machine that saw the stand open in 1939. It looks wonderfully retro and yields flakes of ice that are lighter than air and, as the handwritten signs on the wall promise, more refreshing than air conditioning. There are classic and decidedly contemporary-flavored syrups that are all made in house and delightfully potent. I like a duo of passion fruit and the poetically named Cream of Nectar. I had mine topped with a drizzle of condensed milk to elevate the whole thing to a heavenly plane.
Revived by Sno-balls, we strolled down Saint Charles Avenue, which boasts some of the most impressive mansions in New Orleans. Columns (3811 Saint Charles Ave.) was a private home in 1883, but it’s now a hotel. It’s been lovingly restored and bedecked with chintz, toile, and all manners of stripes, and it’s the perfect place to finish your day with a drink. We had cocktails in the moody, gothic bar, but the green-and-white umbrellas on the patio seemed to be a better choice for the post-work buzz.
8:00 p.m.: Indulge in soft-shell crab and old-school glamour
After a rest, Gabriel and I set out for a pre-dinner drink, but in stereotypical New Orleans fashion, we got swept away watching a parade. From there, we took a cab to Clancy’s (6100 Annunciation St.), a classic restaurant located just outside the bustle of the city center. The whole place oozes charm with ceiling fans whirring, menus written out in perfect script, and tuxedoed waiters carrying trays of martinis. Everything here just felt special, even on an off-season weeknight. Highlights included a lush little plate of gumbo, smoked-then-fried soft shell crab, and a peppermint sundae to wash everything down.
As we had our last bites of ice cream, we decided to cancel our plans to head to a party at the very sexy Hotel Saint Vincent (1507 Magazine St.). We were exhausted and full from a day of feasting on all the beauty of New Orleans, and another drop more would have tipped us into absolute intemperance. Plus, we had to be up early for our flight.
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