By planes, trains, and automobiles, we’ve been going to the beach together for years, and over that time, we’ve amassed a sizable collection of gear to keep us comfortable. We both own parachute blankets, and Ruthie bought herself a Tommy Bahama backpack chair that everyone clowns her for but secretly envies. There was a Pacific Breeze beach tent that Kayleen’s son, Vince, could nap in, and Kayleen bought her boyfriend, Julien, a long-coveted Yeti cooler, in which we’ve packed countless picnics and mango White Claws. Because lugging all that gear to the beach is a real project, Julien invested in a wagon, too.
Our biggest, boldest, baddest piece of beach gear, however, arrived only last summer like a majestic turquoise angel. We got the Shibumi, a roughly 16-by-8-foot rectangle made of parachute fabric that sails overhead and immediately announces you to the rest of the shore as someone to stare at. We now consider it an essential any time we head to the beach. Here, the story of how we became the coolest people on the sand.
Ruth Baron: My dad was the one who first introduced me to the Shibumi. I cannot tell you how he discovered it, but I can tell you he’s obsessed, to the point where the company should probably put him on the payroll as a brand ambassador. He kept buying them as gifts for people and then telling me about it. He described the shade so frequently that I started tuning out whenever he said, “So there’s, like, a tent pole.” But that was before he sent me one. Because Kayleen and I live around the corner from each other and are up in one another’s business — to the point where one could call us codependent (one could also mind one’s business) — what’s mine is also hers. We took it on one of our early-season beach outings last summer.
Kayleen Schaefer: The first time we set it up, I remember being worried it was going to take forever! As soon as we get on the sand, my responsibility is to corral Vince while Ruthie and Julien set up the gear (thank you!). That day, after we arrived, I planned to dunk in the water and eat my bagel. Having to assemble the Shibumi was getting in the way of that. I was a little bit hangry and hot. We all were. But Ruthie sucked it up and got out the directions.
R.B.: Among the virtues my dad had extolled were how lightweight and simple the Shibumi is. It is light, especially compared to the pop-up tent, and cleverly packed in a strapped bag that compresses the shade to nearly as slender as an umbrella no matter how carelessly you stuff it in. It also contains a built-in compartment for the aforementioned tent pole. But that first assembly took all four of us; we made Vince shovel sand into the anchor bag while Julien and I arched the tent pole and then yelled conflicting directions at Kayleen about where to put the bag and argued over how to wrap and fasten the straps. But even with the squabbling, it took only about five minutes — we’ve since gotten it down to a two-minute, two-person job — which meant we had a spot to eat our bagels before applying sunscreen.
K.S.: The Shibumi really does provide a gorgeous amount of shade. During a very hot Fourth of July weekend made worse by fascist lifeguards whose fear of sharks kept us out of the water, we had six people and two coolers under it comfortably. I don’t even like shade — both Ruthie and I would rather sit in direct sunlight, which is why we’re soul mates — but since the Shibumi is a single sheet flapping in the breeze and not a suffocating tent, I’m occasionally sensible and sit under it.
R.B.: I don’t know that either of us really wanted a majestic sunshade that requires vigilant attention to shifting winds and the angles of the sun, but part of the fun is watching our beachgoing companions (usually the dudes) readjust the poles and anchor bag throughout the day. It’s a conversation piece! For both us and others. I have the kind of resting friendly face that hides the misanthropy coursing through my veins; I can’t avoid strangers approaching me, but I don’t usually enjoy it. Discussing the Shibumi is an exception. I love answering questions about how much wind it needs (just a little), how I like it (very much), and where to get one (my dad).
K.S.: It might be a big expense for one person, but it’s the rare purchase that makes sense to go in on with friends. It’s designed to be enjoyed by many!
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