Beach Packing List: Everything You Really Need

There’s a beach on the Oregon coast that the internet hasn’t discovered yet. I know this because I was there on Tuesday with a book and a towel and about four divers who looked at me the way you look at someone who has identified what you like. We didn’t talk. The social contract of an almost empty beach is simple and complete: we’re all here on purpose, and that’s the point.

What you bring to such a place is a kind of debate about how you want to spend your time. So here’s my beach packing list—not one that covers every emergency, but one that’s built around one question: what exactly do I need to be here full time?

My Beach Packing List

Think of this list as you would design a room. William Morris said it best: “Have nothing in your home that you do not know is useful or believe to be beautiful.” Everything here was chosen at that level. Because good taste is knowing exactly what you need.

A bag

For people who are tired of raffia. A design where beach bags usually aren’t, they’re lined in a way that reads more deliberate than nautical, and they’re big enough to hold everything on this list without looking like they’re trying.

A towel

The kind of thing that justifies its place in your life by being what it says it is. Big enough to actually sleep in, soft enough to make you want to stay longer than you planned, and in a color combination that looks like some painting done late afternoon. The marigold does something in the sunlight that I can’t explain and I won’t try.

Swimsuit

One piece that does real structural work (support, compression, the kind of fit you don’t have to think about after you put it on) while looking like it was made by someone who’s actually been to the beach. Dressed in water. Wear it with a sarong for lunch. Wear it as a bodysuit and linen pants on the way home. I’m hooked—and so is the rest of the internet.

The Cover-Up

Cotton voile, hand-printed in Italy by Como artisans. It refines the way the fabric performs when it is made by someone who knows what they are doing. Tie it around the waist, tie it around the waist, let it do what it wants. (It will.)

Hat

The one you wear when you want to look like you’ve been going to the beach all your life. Built enough to last, comfortable enough to forget you’re wearing it. If, in fact, you can’t find enough raffia, crochet stitches do it all.

Sunglasses

Chunky acetate, an almost cat-eye, and a turtleneck pattern that’s dark enough to feel sophisticated and warm enough to feel like summer. It flatters every face shape and looks good with everything.

SPF

The sunscreen gods have answered our prayers: this bottle stays clean and leaves no residue. Bless. A less desirable but negotiable part of the beach—recommends that you apply liberally.

Body Glow

Summer is negotiable—beach or no beach. What it does is clear: it doesn’t sparkle, it doesn’t sparkle in the disco ball sense, but a warmth that catches the light in a way that makes you look like you’ve been beautiful. I wear it every day from June to August. People who know, know. People just don’t think you look amazingly rested.

Jewelry

I have this necklace in Iridescent Abalone, if you ask. The recommendations are consistent, and I have stopped being surprised by them. You are amazing.

A book

Ten years after his debut, he’s back with a Hollywood producer who returns to his alma mater for a funeral and finds himself entangled with the one who got away—or actually, the one who ran away from him. It’s clever, dark, with a Gone Girl-esque twist and ending that I can’t get over. It’s out on July 7—order in advance and prepare to be out of reach for hours.

This post was last updated on June 23, 2026, to include new information.