The Hamptons, Reconsidered
On first impressions, unexpected discoveries, and the beauty of looking a little closer.
The phrase: “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is on repeat every time I think back to a fabulous trip my husband and I took to The Hamptons in September. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fixed idea of what I would fine there: grand mansions hidden behind privacy hedges, polished boutique with pretentious salespeople, well-dressed families who look as though they just left a magazine photo shoot… a kind of luxury that feels removed from everyday life. For me, The Hamptons carried a reputation of being exclusive, expensive, and out-of-touch with reality.
Looking back, I realize it was a place that I associated with an image rather than with an experience. How wrong I was.
My husband and I spent four days exploring the beautiful East End of Long Island, staying in Montauk and making our way through the surrounding towns and villages. Similar to my expectations, we did find beautiful beaches and gorgeous homes. However what I found was the unexpected quiet and understated side of the area; and quickly, my ill-formed preconceptions melted away.
I loved exploring the different hamlets, and learning about how each one has its own personality. Sag Harbor, for example felt like a town that extends far beyond the summer season. Amagansett seemed like a beach town with a casual vibe where locals had their favorite coffee spots and lunch hangouts. East Hampton was decidedly more upscale, but not necessarily in a snotty way… it still felt quite approachable. And Montauk, honestly it felt a bit like a surfing village where surf boards were hitched onto old trucks and people walked around in flip flops with sand caked on their feet.
I loved the winding roads, the overgrown gardens, old houses, and the small local shops that felt personal rather than predictable. This realization forced me to conclude that everything has contradictions. The Hamptons’ reputation of extravagance didn’t form by chance. However I found that the more time I spent looking beyond the obvious, the more I discovered that it couldn’t be captured by that reputation alone. And the more I thought about this idea, the more it made me realize that we often do this… and not just with places, but with people, objects, and even the way we define beauty.
We are ingrained to form impressions from photographs, passing comments, and things we’ve heard repeated so many times that opinion starts to feel like fact. However in doing so, we risk missing the very things that might have surprised us.
At Trove, I often find myself drawn to object for similar reasons. A piece might catch my attention because of its material or shape; but what makes me want to know more is rarely what I see at first glance. Rather, it’s the story that needs to be uncovered: the maker’s perspective, where it comes from, the faint fingerprint marks that reveal themselves slowly. An object that initially seems simple often becomes a lot more interesting once you understand what’s behind it.
I left The Hamptons with a reminder that nothing and no place is as simple as its reputation suggests. It isn’t to say that The Hamptons are completely understated and that everyone there is lowkey; but there’s always more to discover when we allow ourselves to look beyond what we think we already know.
Perhaps the best way to understand something is to set aside your preconceptions and experience it for yourself… because honestly, one of the best things may be the chance to be pleasantly wrong.
