A Cartagena State of Mind
There’s something about arriving in a city you’ve heard about your whole life but have never truly met. My mother is from Medellín, so Colombia has always been a part of my story—but until recently, Cartagena remained a name on a map, not a memory. That changed one hot September afternoon, when we stepped out of a taxi and into a sun-drenched dream of color, history, and tropical elegance.
Where We Stayed: A Hotel That Feels Like a Moodboard
We stayed at the Charleston Hotel Santa Teresa, and if you’ve ever imagined what it might feel like to step into a Colombian novel written in marble and brick, this is it. A soft pale yellow façade greets you, and once inside, you pass under the arch of a brick-layered entrance into an open courtyard that feels like a secret garden. There was a towering floral arrangement in the lobby—hydrangeas and lilies, fresh and extravagant, as only Colombian flowers can be. The scent was clean and crisp—the exact kind of welcome you hope for after a long flight.
Our room was elegant and restrained, with easy access to the spa (we took full advantage: massages daily, because why not?). The rooftop view stretched out to the sea, and in every corner of the hotel you could feel this calm, considered beauty: red brick and beige marble, soft yellow tones, patterned cement blocks, and subtle accents of blue and white tile. Greenery cascades from the balconies and wraps around the courtyard restaurant like a silk scarf. The vibe? Understated colonial glamour with just the right amount of flair.
What I Wore: Dressing for the City of Color
Cartagena, it turns out, has fashion running through its veins. I wandered the old city in a yellow-striped Acler top and beige Banana Republic linen shorts, my Farm Rio sneakers perfectly mismatched in the best way. One morning I slipped into a light blue Sea New York dress—daisies, strawberries, and red accents—and pulled my hair back with a red tie. Color felt right here. Color felt expected.
Each day brought new outfits and new moods. For a salsa class (which ended at Alquímico, the bar that everyone should go to at least once), I wore a fuchsia and hot pink Derek Lam 10 Crosby dress that felt purpose-built for movement. Another day, for shopping, a Marie Oliver dress with earthy tones and a Cult Gaia arc bag. And for cocktails one night, a black Sea New York maxi with a rhubarb and white dotted print, paired with white lace-up Chamula sandals. Dressing in Cartagena is about playing the part, yes—but more than that, it’s about letting yourself feel bold.
And yes, I packed everything—cocktail dresses, swimsuits, walking shoes, and more—in a carry-on. Which, for me? A personal triumph.
Where We Shopped: Colombian Fashion, Discovered
The city is a treasure map of boutiques: Silvia Tcherassi, Agua Bendita, Maygel Coronel. I fell hard for the latter—especially their sculptural one-size swimwear, which hugs the body like a well-written sentence. I wore the black Kai two-piece on a boat trip to the Rosario Islands, which involved snorkeling, plantains, parrots, and a boat motor breakdown that turned into a sunset cruise with strangers and aguardiente. We missed our eleven-course tasting menu that night at Carmen, but honestly? The sunset was better.
What We Ate (and Drank): Sweet, Salty, and Always Good
We ate arepas, fresh ceviche at La Cevichería (Bourdain was right), and went back to Mila Pastelería more than once for breakfast. Even the hotel restaurant was good—like, surprisingly good.
What Inspired Me: Doors, Murals, and Everything in Between
The inspiration was everywhere: in the color-drenched doors, each one distinct; the murals, the animals, the thick tropical vegetation. You begin to understand why so many Colombian designers are so unafraid of vibrancy and shape. Cartagena doesn’t whisper—it sings.
What I Took Home: A Little Reset, A Lot of Style
By the time we left, I felt reset. Like I had pressed pause on whatever needed pausing. That’s how I know it was a good trip. Not because I did everything (I didn’t), but because I left feeling full—in my suitcase, yes, but also in my heart, in my skin, and in my sense of style.
