These types of posts are so time consuming but, really, a collage just looks so much better than any one photo—especially when almost every imaginable shade of blue seems to play into nearly every shot. I surprised myself by enjoying Ibiza the most out of all of the islands visited on my Mediterranean journey. Corsica was just ok, Sardinia was so not my speed, and Formentera and Porquerolles were sweet but perhaps a bit too quaint. I didn’t don any glow sticks or stay out until sunrise, but Ibiza’s street life and sangria were about as good as it gets. more»

I’m deep in the throes of a project that is so un-Jackie—a magazine for the LA Dodgers—but I just had to take a seventh-inning stretch to post my three articles from the 2011 Best of the Best issue of Robb Report. Check out Amanfayun’s brand new ancient spa, the stunning residences at the Four Seasons Resort Seychelles, and Snaidero USA’s debut of some seriously rad bathrooms before the magazine slithers off newsstands to make way for July! more»

As is common among Texans, I often find myself insisting that lakes are the better choice in the lake vs. beach debate. Of course, we mostly make this argument due the fact that Texas’ idea of waterfront is either the oil-drenched Gulf of Mexico or the brown sludge that passes for the Rio Grande. My article in the May issue of Robb Report about West Lake’s tranquil glass-like water and romantic arched footbridges definitely helps my argument though. Who needs sand and waves when you have willow trees and sampan boats?! more»

Homemade buttermilk banana pancakes are a Sunday morning ritual around here. It’s enough to start the week off on the right foot, even if it means downing more butter and maple syrup in a single sitting than one should consume in any seven-day period. Last Sunday, however, was extra sweet when the New York Times delivered a few of my photos in the travel section for a story on Hangzhou. You can check out the full article online (that is, if you are willing to give up one of your 20 free monthly articles!).

Not to complain, but there’s a certain level of suckiness when I visit an amazing resort in the middle of paradise and, after three days of non-stop shooting, come to realize that my toes have yet to touch the ocean, my bathing suit remains packed away at the bottom of my suitcase, and every night I pass out the moment I get back to my suite. More than ever before, this was the case at Las Alamandas, where the intensely bright colors of this authentically designed Mexican resort were just too much of a draw for my camera. There’s good news though: I get to go back in September—this time sans camera, with a boyfriend in tow and margaritas on my mind! more»

With winter and spring in the middle of what seems like a never-ending wrestling match here in New York (today, winter is winning), it’s quite a comfort to pick up the April issue of Robb Report and reminisce about my trip to Ani Villas in Anguilla last December. Look at that gorgeous turquoise pool! Alas, my swimsuit hasn’t seen the light of day since. more»

Thus far, I’ve spent the better part of this year thinking about China, Korea, and now Mexico. As a result, I had all but completely forgotten about this article covering Italian glassmaker Seguso’s first furniture collection, which ran in the February issue of Robb Report. What a nice surprise to randomly flip through a magazine and see something unexpected with my name on it! more»

Suzhou was—for lack of a better term—a trip. Sure, I heard the same “Hello! Hello!” that white people hear all over China when wandering the streets with their cameras and sticking out like a fly in a bowl of rice. But in Suzhou, the cultural difference was, quite honestly, shocking. People followed me through the streets. Parents pointed me out to their children as some sort of educational lesson. Young girls surrounded me, asking for a picture and my email address. I was even denied service in several restaurants, the reason for which I am still unsure.

Despite feeling like an alien, Suzhou captivated me with its never-ending parade of contradictions. There were the I.M. Pei-designed art museum, the cafes and bars on trend-ified Pingjiang Road, and the main boulevard with its multiple Louis Vuitton and Hermes stores on alternating blocks that pointed to a rapidly Westernizing city. But right there too were the clotheslines drying cured meats next to damp boxer shorts, the ever-present smell of stinky tofu, and, of course, the hordes of people elbowing their friends and pointing and nodding in the direction of the lone white girl. I can’t say I know which is the real Suzhou. Some would be inclined to say the old man repairing shoes on the side of the street has more Suzhounese street cred than the spiky-haired guy shooting a fashion spread in front of a “British pub.” I’m not so sure. I suspect both are authentic in their own way. more»

More than a few times during my trip, I heard the phrase “Heaven above, Hangzhou below.â€� Funnily enough, when I got to Suzhou, the saying had changed—this time it was “Heaven above, Hangzhou and Suzhou below.” I think the latter is the correct version, although, after spending several days in both cities, I understand why the Hangzhounese would claim the saying for just themselves. Somehow, even during the busiest of times—whether shopping on Hubin and Nanshan roads, visiting ancient Buddhist temples, wandering from gallery to gallery at the Zhejiang Art Museum, or dodging aggressive shopkeepers on Hefang Street—the city possesses a certain peacefulness that Suzhou lacks. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that even when struggling (usually unsuccessfully) to find a taxi or walking the city’s stone sidewalks until the bones in your feet pulsate with searing pain, the serenity of West Lake is always just a stone’s throw away. more»

By the time I made it to Banyan Tree, the popping of firecrackers was almost incessant as Hangzhou’s locals counted down the days to the Lunar New Year. I, on the other hand, could not have been more sluggish. Having skipped from Seoul to Shanghai to Hangzhou to Suzhou and then back to Hangzhou, I was one weary traveler. With just 36 hours at Banyan Tree before retracing my circuitous path back to New York (via Seoul via Shanghai!), I had no greater desire than to bury myself deep under the covers of the fluffy king-size bed in my suite. But after an eight-course meal at Bai Yun, a two-hour Balinese massage at the spa, a stroll through the sleepy grounds of the neighboring Xixi National Wetland Park, and an invigorating workout in the gym, I was feeling like a firecracker myself, exploding with energy for the 24-hour-plus journey home. Xin Nian Kuai Le! more»

While staying in Hangzhou, I hit the jackpot and found the one taxi driver in perhaps all of China that speaks perfect English. Jerry, whose business card identifies him as “The Grass Roots Ambassador of Hangzhou,” was full of little nuggets of wisdom, like “wear your napkin from your neck when eating hot pot,” and “take ginseng to relieve menstrual cramps.” But his most valuable piece of advice was this: “If you haven’t been to the lake or the temple, you haven’t been to Hangzhou.”

The temple to which my new friend was referring is the Lingyin Temple, and lucky for me, Amanfayun, the second resort in my Tour de Hangzhou, is located just steps away. Much like the temple, where visitors can watch Buddhist monks in afternoon prayer each day at 3:30, Amanfayun reeks of authenticity from another time. Located on the site of a former tea plantation workers’ village, the resort’s guest rooms, restaurants, and tea houses are the same structures in which workers resided centuries ago. Monks even like to hang out at the Tea House from time to time, most likely on their way to the temple from another nearby landmark, the Buddhist University. But as exciting as it was to mingle with such enlightened creatures, I remembered yet another gem that Jerry shared with me: “If you want to take a picture of a monk, you must first ask.” more»

I ate well and I ate often at the Four Seasons’ traditional Chinese restaurant, Jin Sha, where eight-course meals are not reserved solely for dinner, and lunches can take up to several hours. Aside from the incredible meals, I went nuts over the restaurant’s 11 private dining rooms dotting the edge of one of the hotel’s man-made lagoons and accessible via a glowing, labyrinthine pathway. Each room has a distinct decor, and many include expansive waterfront terraces and plush lounging options. I quickly understood the need for these private spaces as my tour skipped several rooms from which the sounds of drunken carousing exploded. Even more exciting, these private dining rooms have a history as deliciously decadent as the DongPo pork served on their tables: General Manager Rudolf van Dijk divulged that the tradition dates back to the sexy swinging days of concubines! Meow! more»

Following Korea, I spent nearly two weeks wandering eastern China. Well, perhaps wandering, which implies roughing it in a rucksack-and-sleeping-bag kind of way, gives an inaccurate impression. Rather, I spent the time bouncing between amazing resorts and hotels throughout the cities of Shanghai, Hangzhou, and Suzhou.

First up was the Four Seasons Hotel Hangzhou at West Lake, which I would sooner describe as a resort than a hotel due to its stunning lakefront location and out-of-this-world spa. Though one of the heaviest snowfalls in recent Hangzhou history kept me from enjoying the former, it gave me the perfect excuse to spend even more time in the latter, whose vivid use of color—golds in the reception, vibrant pinks in the treatment rooms, and cool turquoises and slates in the amazing indoor pool—had me wishing the snow would never let up. more»

Generally, I hate the doctor. I pass out at the sight of a needle. I sweat through my clothes while sitting in waiting rooms. I get jumpy just thinking about that tissue paper that covers the examination table. *Shudder.* But after visiting Chaum Center, Seoul’s newest medical center, destination spa, and health club wrapped into one amazing 400,000-square foot facility, I’m ruined for life. A futuristic interior filled with modern art and sleek yet comfy furniture? A gourmet Mediterranean restaurant serving organic cuisine? Cute pink jammies in place of those awful papery backless gowns? Forget it, I will never set foot in a doctor’s office again unless it’s at Chaum Center. more»

It is snowing steadily as we walk in two orderly lines to the 38th parallel. I feel like a kindergartner with a safety partner when John pushes me into the opposite line so we can be next to each other. Having stopped at the top of a wide set of cement stairs overlooking the guards—you know, the guards in mirrored glasses and judo-ready poses who stare at the guards in furry hats and long grey coats who, in turn, stare back with their own unwavering glare—we are given specific orders. “Do not point, wave, or make gestures of any kind toward North Korea,” Corporal Casiano, tells us. “Do not get too close to the guards and do not try to pass them. Their orders are to get physical with anyone who does.”

Duly noted. I’m not here to get my ass kicked.

In the distance, the faint outline of magnificent white-tipped mountains trace the edge of the horizon. I imagine they’d make great blue squares and black diamonds; then immediately wonder if such a thing will ever be possible in my lifetime. Ugly blue trailers—equal numbers belonging to the North and South (we can’t have anyone feeling more powerful now, can we?)—line the exact positioning of the 38th parallel. Dated watch towers overhead look more like abandoned shanties than the surveillance headquarters of an evil empire. Little more is visible through the winter’s heavy fog and snowflakes. Nonetheless, the enemy to which I cannot refer is watching—invisible, ubiquitous, omnipotent. Can I feel them watching me? Or do I just think I can feel them watching me? Perhaps, like many Westerners, I am just so obsessed with this place that Bill Clinton once called “the scariest place on earth” that even the slightest strangeness elicits a palpable and unrecognizable fear.

The most surprising thing about the de-militarized zone is the lack of any real action taking place. Despite the feeling of a certain intangible and unspoken threat hanging in the air, the actual physical stimulus remains at an incredible low. Anywhere else, empty trailers, empty train stations, and empty observation platforms would make for a mind-numbingly dull experience. And yet, whether due to expectation or reality, it is this disparate solitude that makes the tension along the border that much more poignant. Its emptiness simply reinforces that my every move—whether I’m toeing the ambiguously-drawn yellow line on the observation deck, which, after crossing, I can no longer take photos; or sheepishly edging near that guard poised in his foreboding ready-to-tear-your-shit-up stance—is under surveillance. Perhaps if I could look them back square in the eye, I’d have less discomfort in knowing that they—whoever and wherever they are—are watching.

Oddly, this part of Korea, the part most Americans think of first when the country is mentioned, is not present in Seoul, which is just an hour-long bus ride away. John and I mentioned our trip to several Seoulites we met during our week in the city, and received widely varied—though generally disapproving—responses: “that’s just a tourist area for foreignersâ€� or “that’s not the real Korea” or (my favorite) “it’s not very nice there.” It made the concept of perspective ever-present in my mind during this trip, though no matter how hard I tried to think like a local—reading their English-language newspaper everyday and trying to understand how calling another country “belligerent” a handful of times in a single article could be considered objective—I just couldn’t fathom how this border with the only wholly closed country remaining on our planet could be regarded in such an incurious manner.

And speaking of perspective, more than a few times, John and I couldn’t help wondering: is there some mirror-image group of North Korean tourists on the other side of this tunnel learning about evil South Korea, and therefore, evil US? Corporal Casiano assured us this was not possible. But I couldn’t help thinking that, not only does such a bizarro-world scenario seem entirely possible, it still wouldn’t be the strangest thing happening at the DMZ. more»

The older I get, the less I care about the holidays. It’s a simple fact of life that a Barbie Dream House just can’t brighten my life the way it once did. That said, I got the best gift ever this year when I came home from my holiday to see a stack of Robb Report’s January issue featuring my cover photo and feature story on Seychelles. Spreading the magazines out on my kitchen table like a nerdy little boy with his favorite Magic cards (remember those?!), I swear I felt a flicker of those elated heart palpitations I used to know so well. Happy New Year, everyone! more»

I’m off on a wintry journey and I couldn’t be less prepared for the freezing Midwestern temps after spending last weekend in the absolute perfection that is Anguilla. Ani Villa, located on the island’s Little Bay, is the first of many spectacular rental villas the company of the same name will be dropping into remote locations all over the world. I’m definitely crossing my fingers that their Sri Lanka property (set to open in 2013) is in my future. Until then, I guess the cold trek home for Christmas will have to suffice. Happy holidays everyone! more»

December means a lot of things to me: frantic Christmas shopping, crowded airports, and pulling my George Costanza-esque puffy coat out of the closet, to name a few. But one December delight I can always rely on is Robb Report’s obscenely thrilling Ultimate Gift Guide. This year, I covered the residential theme park. If you have two acres of land and $20 million to spare, you are in luck! My theme would definitely be Candy Land. Ideally, almost everything would be edible. I’ll be sure to keep that delectable fantasy in the forefront of my mind as I weather the torrential mob of shoppers at the Union Square Holiday Market this weekend.

Another of my projects for Archidose blogger John Hill’s new book. This is 580 Carroll, a super-sexy residential building in Park Slope by Enrique Norton. Being that it comprises an entire block, I had two facades to shoot and I still can’t decide which is more fun. Although, granted, one facade is open to the street and another is blocked by an imposing (yet ultra-modern and well-designed) fence that required acrobatics rivaling my cheerleading days to get a decent angle.

There will eventually be a good number of these Archidose projects on here. Consequently, I’m curious to see how long I will continue to work the word “dose” into the headline. I’m willing to put an ungodly amount of time into googling words like “dose,” “dosing,” and “dosage” so it’s fair to say I will likely succeed in going the distance. more»

I’ve been helping out John Hill whose Archidose blog is kind of a big deal. When I heard that he is putting out a book next year featuring all of the latest and greatest in New York architecture, I obviously wanted to jump onboard in any way that I could. But to be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled when he asked me to shoot Frank Gehry’s Beekman Tower. I had no plan for how to tackle the behemoth, especially knowing that one of its facades was still marred by unsightly scaffolding. Well, after an early rise on a Saturday morning (how else could I avoid the oppressive downtown crowds?) I discovered that, with a little bit of interborough walking and a lot of trespassing, you can accomplish almost anything. More Archidose assignments to come… more»

The Department of Transportation continues to be a unifying force for John and myself, with their regular calls for mural submissions for the multitude of construction barriers throughout New York City. Our submission for jersey barriers (I won’t even go into the time I’ve spent considering the reasons why such a thing as a 3-foot cement traffic barrier would be presumably named after New Jersey) is highly interactive. Participants would hold brushes during various movements or affix brushes to various modes of transportation, rendering a diverse set of shapes mirroring  the acts of running, walking, cycling, and driving. The resulting brush strokes mingle together in vibrant colors, serving as a reminder that we should all share the road. more»

My good friend, the awesomely-talented Samantha Brooks recently asked me to help her out with an identity project that was so specific that it tailored to a single recipient. DailyCandy was searching for a new Los Angeles city editor, and being that Samantha was the perfect fit, she had the spectacular idea to market herself as though she were the highlight of one of DC’s email newsletters. If there are two things I know about Samantha, it’s that she loves LA and she loves pink, so it only felt natural to create a resume that included her city’s skyline and pink heart-shaped sunglasses—both in a watercolor style that mirrors the famous DailyCandy girly aesthetic. With the job application requiring a lengthy edit test, the concept grew, and each section received its own signature style. For instance, an article on a lingerie boutique flaunted a red treatment, with a sexy little brassiere replacing the sunglasses. We had a blast creating this project…and the best part? She got the job! Congrats, Sam! more»

And now for the second piece I wrote and photographed for Robb Report’s October villa round-up. Now off to enjoy a much-needed vacation in Austin; it’s no North Island, but I’ll take what I can get!

A wonderful surprise arrived in my inbox just as I was making a harried attempt at packing for our 10-day trip to Austin: my two articles (+ accompanying photography) for Robb Report’s Top Villas of the World round-up, featured in the October issue. I’m so happy with both this piece, which is for Twin Farms in Barnard, Vermont, as well as the spread for North Island (coming up momentarily). There’s nothing like getting great news right before leaving town!

John’s little bro is tying the knot with his darling girlfriend this September. I volunteered to design the invites, which turned out to be so much fun that I’m still visiting wedding blogs just to ogle all the fantastic design ideas. Joe and Tess had tight budgetary constraints but we managed to come up with something unique and sophisticated…all with 110 invitations costing under $250 total. We cut costs by forgoing letterpress and creating a long-form invite that folds up to become its own envelope. I ordered stickers with a custom monogram of their initials to adhere the invitations closed. We also avoided the need for RSVP cards, envelopes, and postage by having all guests email their RSVP instead. more»

That childhood feeling of giddy Christmas morning glee is not easily replicated in the world of adults. These days, my ‘neath-the-tree goodies are of a decidedly more responsible sort: socks, books, and cold hard cash. The closest I come to recapturing that “did-I-get-the-Barbie-ice-cream-shoppe?!” anticipation comes in the form of long-lost rolls of film packed with good times and fabulous long-forgotten moments. Behold! Chinatown dudes! Lonely Red Hook chair! Ravenous twin goats! What more could I ask for?

Glenmere Mansion, whose photos I posted here in May and are now in the July issue of Robb Report, is one of few properties that has really stuck with me over time. If there’s one thing I love about a resort, it’s the feeling that each space is unique and has something special to offer. Glenmere accomplishes that in spades. The property also won me over with 24/7 snacking stations (there’s always room for scones!), a gorgeous library stocked with art books ranging from the Impressionist greats to Jeff Koons, and bottomless brunch Bellinis using—and this is important!—real peach purée. So, apparently, the way to my heart is no secret: endless proportions of food, booze, and art!

I’ve never been much of a fish gal. I prefer furry things, and underwater creatures aren’t exactly the snuggling type. But I must admit that after speaking with Okeanos Aquascaping co-owner and super-passionate aquarium lover Martin Schapira, I totally get the whole underwater world appeal. Granted, I’d probably have to settle for something more fishbowl-like as opposed to Okeanos’ shockingly expansive (and expensive!) aquariums, but alas, I do have a newfound appreciation for my little undersea friends.

Writing the same article twice is definitely a test in creative mettle. Luckily I had eight hours of uninterrupted work time in the form of a CDG-to-JFK flight to knock out my second piece about the One&Only Cape Town for Robb Report’s 2010 Best of the Best issue. It was even enough time to write my article about the Four Seasons Resort Seychelles for the same issue. Such productivity! And I still managed to watch the barely-entertaining, often-embarrassing duo of Ricky Gervais movies so thoughtfully chosen by American Airlines. more»

We turned my final submission for the Kinne Research Fellowship at Columbia into a big, beautiful book, published by Blurb. Jackie edited the original entries for an easier, more photo-focused flow (or because she thinks I talk too much). The electronic book can be viewed/downloaded on issuu, and if you want the unbridled, even-more-enthusiastic version, browse the original posts here. Also, definitely check out the interactive map that outlines the entire six-week trip after the jump. Now we just have to complete the second session in Mexico City. Fingers crossed we carve the time out this summer! more»