By Sunday, I had worn everything in my suitcase. Every dress, every sandal, every swimsuit. My carry-on had officially given its all. Almost. One piece remained—still folded, still waiting. A twinkling  shirt I packed with vague intentions and high hopes, but never quite reached for… until last night. For the beach club bonfire, I wanted something that felt new, but the novelty had worn off everything else. So I threw it on—over a pair of cotton boxer pajama bottoms that hadn’t left the house all week—and off I went. And just like that, the shirt delivered: sparkling at sunset, a little undone, somehow effortless and interesting all at once. It's the kind of piece that doesn’t need much around it. This is the magic I’m always after: something that does the heavy lifting, that makes me feel polished with minimal effort, that can shift from city rooftop to sand dune without missing a beat. Now I’m on the hunt for more like it—quietly transformative pieces that know how to take center stage, no matter where they land. So far, I've turned up  ($58!), and .