I have never wanted anything quite so badly in my life as I now want a holiday home in Palm Springs. That’s what I wrote in the guestbook at the Palm Springs Visitor Centre last weekend, and the sense of desire has only intensified since then — and I’m in pretty good company it’s got to be said.
The city has been synonymous with movie stars since the Rat Pack made it their holiday Mecca in the 1940s and 50s and emanated an air of glamour ever since. Studio contracts demanded that the likes of Frank Sinatra, Bob Hope, Sammy Davis Jr, George Hamilton and Kirk Douglas were never more than two hours from LA should they be needed urgently, and the architecturally stunning desert oasis that is Palm Springs was, well, sprung.
Movie stars, business tycoons, artists and even presidents have descended on this particular patch of desert for holidays since the 1930s. (I had drinks with charming old-Hollywood agent Sydney Craig who now runs the city’s January Film Festival and the nonagenarian best friend he was talking about turned out to be none other than Betty Ford, wife of President Gerald Ford). Elvis and Priscilla honeymooned here, the City’s long-time mayor was Sonny Bono and the historic Plaza Theatre — now the home of The Fabulous Palm Springs Follies — was the scene of many Jack Benny radio broadcasts in the 40s.
Phew, this is some place. But what takes it off the chart completely is the buildings. Even though London, where I live, is hardly bereft of constructed beauty, I can safely say I’ve never been so awed, moved and intrigued by architecture as I was during my five days in PS. Ugly things are not tolerated here: everything must be in keeping with the city’s aesthetic and new buildings are subject to height restrictions to keep the mountain views. On an architectural jeep tour with local historian Robert Imber we see building after beautiful building in Spanish Colonial and mid-century Modernist styles. But the true wow factor comes from the fact that it’s so damn rare to see something so cool anyway, that seeing a whole city filled with cool things that all work so perfectly together in such a continuous proliferation is almost beyond my imagination.
By the late 1940s anything Spanish at all was considered dull, which is where Modernism came into its own (although in my humble opinion the two sit perfectly together). Walter Gropius, Alvar Aalto, Mies van der Robe and Le Corbusier were but a few of the giants of architecture who bought lightweight steel frames, floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sliding doors, flat roofs and thin beams to the desert, creating the Modernist resort paradise set amongst golf courses, pierced occasionally by the bright blue of the swimming pools, that we see now. All of this is set against a stunning snow-capped mountain backdrop which surrounds the city and makes you feel like you’re enclosed in some secret paradise that no one else knows about.
If you’re any kind of fun then you will just adore this place. I really didn’t want to leave. I’ll deal with the superb hotels, bars, restaurants and shopping in my High Life piece but it’s safe for me to say right now that if you’ve ever had any intention of going there — or even if you didn’t — then you MUST. Palm Springs rocked my world.
Read Sara Lawrence’s feature on Palm Springs in the July edition of High Life.
