Decades have passed since I stopped correcting the assumption made by total strangers — that I was from California. The conjecture came most often during pleasantries exchanged in airports or on planes. But somewhere around 33,000 feet, I decided to just smile and say nothing (although, secretly, I was pleased). Maybe it was my light hair and eyes or deviation from the expected all-black New York attire (I prefer neutral whites and creams even when traveling) that prompted the made-up narrative. Or perhaps I’d just manifested my wannabe, inner California spa girl for so long that I unknowingly exuded a west coast vibe.
My love affair with the Golden State began when I was just 14 and living in a small town on the East Coast near the Mason-Dixon line. My school was very sports competitive — even in gym class — and I always dreaded the cooped-up winter months when the scary-to-me balance beam, parallel bars, and floor mats (aka gymnastics) took precedence.
That year, though, we were given the option to practice yoga instead. There were only a handful of us (five, if I recall) in the class. But with my very first Vrksasana (tree pose), I was transported. Not to India or Southeast Asia, but to Southern California where yoga, along with green smoothies and do-at-home avocado facials, were already mainstream, and where people walked everyday to the beach (or so I imagined).
While I still make my home on the East Coast (albeit much closer to the ocean), my love for Southern California has never waned. Despite its congested freeways, natural disasters, and sky-high real estate, the state’s classically distinctive blend of desert, sea, and Hollywood glam still speaks to me. And when it comes to spa and wellness offerings, Southern California remains light years ahead, as evidenced during my most recent visit.
Desert Detox: Mineral Soaking in Palm Springs
“You have to try. Both are new.”
I have just checked out of what may be the most luxurious spa in the U.S. — the gated, Japanese-inspired Sensei Porcupine Creek in Rancho Mirage. For three days, I sequestered into my light-filled suite filled with orchids, Japanese art, minimalist teak furniture, and deep-soaking Toto tub. Alternating between a taupe-linen yukata (Japanese robe) and yoga attire, I moved between sound baths, Nobu meals, gua sha facials, and massages. The 230-acre spa was billionaire Larry Ellison’s private estate until late 2022 when the Oracle co-founder transformed it into a Japanese-inspired retreat for serious wellness enthusiasts.
Now driving past windmills and date palms, I am off to visit two day spas. The first, The Spa at Séc-he is the only mineral spring spa in downtown Palm Springs; the second, Azure Palm Hot Springs Resort and Day Spa is in Desert Hot Springs. Full disclosure: both are busier and more communal than I personally prefer. But both bring an unprecedented healing element — bubbling hot mineral spring waters.
Inside The Spa at Séc-he (which means “the sound of boiling water” in the native Cahuilla language), my journey begins with a 15-minute, private mineral bath. Following my soak, my skin feeling instantly refreshed, I pad in robe and slippers through the various chambers: salt caves, sauna, cryotherapy, and acoustic wellness lounge. Moving mindfully through each, I pause to sip citrus-infused water and nibble on date cakes (a Palm Springs specialty), before dipping into the outdoor mineral pool framed by swaying palms.
Later, at Azure Palm Hot Springs Resort, which literally rests on Miracle Hill — a tiny, six-block enclave of abundantly rich hot spring waters — I find yet another desert oasis. The region’s hottest mineral waters come from Miracle Hill; the waters at Azure Palm emerge at an amazing 174-degrees Fahrenheit and must actually be cooled prior to soaking. While the outdoor, mineral swimming pool here is the largest in Southern California, I find my solace in the five small (yes, I try them all) oasis tubs overlooking the desert. Ranging in temperatures of 101 to 104 degrees, the tubs come with names like Luna, Larissa, and Mirage. I tuck into the hotel (in a spa suite) for one night, and savor the tranquility of walking (after day-spa hours), in robe and sandals to soak all alone under the desert stars. Early morning, I slip back into the hot steamy waters loaded with sulfate, magnesium, potassium, silica, sodium, copper, lithium, magnesium, and zinc. Azure Palm also offers special week-long juicing and colonics programs, and while the rooms are basic, almost motel-like, the spa suites do come with their own deep-soaking mineral bath tubs and desert-boho vibe.
By The Sea in Palos Verdes
The next stop on my self-drive spa tour is the sea and driving through the coastal town of Palos Verdes, an hour south of Los Angeles, my 14-year-old self is in a state of exhilaration. Terranea Resort, set high on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, is the epitome of everything my younger, yoga-discovering self dreamed Southern California would be: craggy cliffs, crashing waves, twisty trails, hibiscus, and coral trees. Checking into my ocean-facing room, I could sit and watch the waves crash for hours. But the spa awaits and my lineup of treatments, created by a spa aficionado and friend I’ve known and worked with for years, is truly stellar.
My first treatment comes in a room overlooking the sea; a copper bathtub, its centerpiece. Whether the two-hour Ocean Prelude treatment (which made our Very Best list) was created for the room or the room for the treatment is unclear. But the two are synonymous. In the very first segment, a dry body brushing followed by a scrub in warm marine algae (by Spa Technologies), I recognize the ritual as a unique creation by Anne Bramham, an expert in thalassotherapy and founder of ASTECC, a spa curriculum bridging traditional and holistic wellness. A long soak follows in the copper tub (during which time I spot dolphins playfully jumping in the sea), and ends with a full body massage in seaweed (luminaria) oil.
The ocean-inspired treatment is only the beginning however. During my time at Terranea, I practice yoga, take early-morning coastal hikes, breathe deeply the sea-and-salt air, and dine on scrumptious, Mediterranean-inspired cuisine: white truffle spaghetti, branzino and seabass at mar’sel (a fusion of Spanish and French words for “sea” and “salt). Afternoons are reserved for more spa treatments: The Crimson, a two-hour signature featuring hot-and-cold contrast therapies, lymphatic and bamboo massage; and a bliss-out, anti-aging, Natura Bisse Diamond Facial that leaves my skin glowing. My final treatment, Honey Bliss (also two hours), starts with a warm vichy shower and exfoliating scrub with organic honey, brown sugar, and coconut butter, and culminates with a long-stroke massage in, yes,more coconut butter.
On my final morning walk along the craggy coastline, I take in the breathtaking beauty and sheer magic of this place. The property (prior to its incarnation as a hotel) was home to Marineland, a public oceanarium that operated from 1954 until 1987, when it was purchased by the owners of SeaWorld and moved to San Diego. “Many Terranea guests tell us they remember Marineland from their childhood,” one staffer tells me.
Hollywood Glam in Beverly Hills
While I’m truly sad to leave this extraordinary oceanfront resort, no one (including myself) feels sorry for me. My next stop is Beverly Hills and the high-glam, Art Deco-inspired Waldorf Astoria Beverly Hills. Dripping in chandeliers and Lalique installations, the 12-story, modern hotel opened in 2017 with interiors by Pierre-Yves Rochon. The hotel’s triple-height ceilings, polished floors, white marble with gold accents, and teak doors scream old Hollywood glamor, while in room — find colorful art books, celadon wing-backed chairs, a muted taupe-white color palette, and floor-to-ceiling windows leading onto spacious balconies.
White-glove service is present in every exchange. When I arrive early, my personal concierge whisks me to the rooftop bar known for its 360-degree panoramic views of Beverly Hills and Hollywood for a seamless check in. And here, in this green gardenesque setting, my short wait is no wait at all as I munch on guacamole with taro chips and people watch: the fashion set in stylishly ripped jeans and heels; svelte couples canoodling over dark sunglasses and cocktails.
The spa is equally impressive.
When I book the 75-minute Waldorf Astoria Massage with Reggie, I am not prepared for its wow factor. Using a few hot stones here and there as needed, Reggie stretches and pulls my body — contorting it in ways I did not know it would contort. When I ask about her innovative massage technique, she explains that her bodywork style — a culmination of 28 years — is really “not one style,” but a blend of her collective experiences. “I studied in Maui with kahunas, and have had a lot of [healer] mentors,” she tells me. “And as a former dancer, I come to massage from the perspective of stretching and getting the body moving.”
The signature La Prairie facial with Lenora is also stellar. The Swiss product brand is, of course, a classic. Around since the 1950s, La Prairie skincare is based on caviar; every product contains the ingredient. After applying eye cream and plumping my neck and décolleté, Lenora begins her magic on my face — cleansing and exfoliating, layering products, and pausing between to apply both steam and oxygen. Within minutes in Lenora’s capable hands, my skin feels subtle, smooth, clean. And at the end, as she holds a mirror to my face for my inspection, it looks glowy, and dare I say it, younger. We talk about the LED masks for at-home use (she’s a fan), but reminds me that regular facials and use of high-quality, results-driven skincare products are the true secret to aging gracefully.
The next morning, after coffee on my balcony, I head for the final stop on my whirlwind Southern California spa tour: the legendary and iconic pink Beverly Hills Hotel.
Built in 1912 and painted pink in 1948 (to complement the sunset), the hotel has always been a go-to hideaway for high-profile guests and celebrities. Marilyn Monroe used to stay for weeks at a time in Bungalow 1, Frank Sinatra in Bungalow 22, and Elizabeth Taylor in Bungalow 5. The hotel graced the cover of the Eagles’ “Hotel California” album, and remains famous for its red-carpet entranceway, banana leaf wallpaper, custom Linus banana leaf bicycles, and of course, its Polo Lounge, as celebrated for its tortilla soup and McCarthy salad (on the menu since 1948) as its discerning clientele.
The spa, small and intimate with just four treatment rooms and a nail salon, was renovated in 2021. Sadly, I do not have time for the 90-minute Marilyn Monroe Massage, Red Carpet Radiance Facial, or even a custom manicure (of the hotel’s signature banana leaf print). The traffic is already bumper to bumper on the 405 to LAX. But happily, this quick pop-in to the famous pink palace and spa leaves me (as always) wanting more.
And yet another reason to return.
Feature image courtesy of The Beverly Hills Hotel
