In an always-on world, Olivia Stren revels in the power of the ultimate off-duty look.
Growing up, I used to visit my grandmother at her condo in Palm Beach, where my favorite activity was grocery shopping at the local Publix—the kind of supermarket that had valet parking and Alhambra-like archways swathed in bougainvillea. There, suntanned tycoons with skin more leathery than their Vuitton valises shuffled through the aisles shopping for crab salad, wearing monogrammed-silk dressing gowns. Nothing seemed a more blatant display of leisure than sporting your peignoir in Publix. Wearing a robe in the glare of day has long been the habit of the egregiously wealthy, the unhinged, or, um, the freelance writer.
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