Our last visit to Palm Springs plunged us through the kind of thrilling, dizzying heat tempered by a glass of lemonade and a lazy poolside lounge chair. But the Earth must frustratingly rotate, and therefore we’re stranded every six months in a frosty skid called Winter. We grudgingly make the best of it, bundling in bright coats and stormy boots, stirring marshmallows into our hot chocolate. But we never forget our luxuious summer afternoons, and for that we repatriate (with more layers of clothing) to the Parker Palm Springs.
The Parker is a rare intersection of abundance and minimalism, flawlessly styled and yet devastatingly quiet. Outside lounges mellow into gardens, buildings recede into the trees. The sense is there that if you need something, only then will you see it. We took a walk to the pool and spent the afternoon reading on a lounge chair, buzzed in the sunshine, happy as the bunny that had crossed our path.
Like the best hotels, the Parker is a microcosm of comfort, dense with casual luxury and smothered in attentive service. Though we love the comfortable bed and the gorgeous bath amenities, our favorite decadence here (and at all hotels!) is room service. Breakfast here is not to be missed, and for that we rely on our standing order – a split of the lox and bagel plate and crisp Belgian waffle with berries, followed by a deliciously satifying nap.
No small amount of luxury lingers next to the vanity:
