This morning I was reading my friend Noora Raj Brown's . Noora, who recently traded Pacific Palisades for Paris, wrote about something that felt particularly relevant. For years, she had convinced herself that the hustle—the constant motion, the packed schedule, the need to always be available—was something to be proud of. In Paris, she says, she's learned the opposite. Not that people don't work hard, but that there's a softness to life there that makes being perpetually busy feel less aspirational and, frankly, a little sad. I could use that reminder this weekend. My instinct is to fill every pocket of downtime with something productive. A closet to clean out. A drawer to organize. A project to finally tackle. But maybe the point isn't to do more—but to notice more. Summer is particularly good at rewarding that approach. A cute . The right-sized . A (or two) with (yes, really). Saint Tropez-ready . , above, also . A . . The small details that don't require much effort but somehow put an exclamation point on the fun. This weekend, I'm aiming for a little less hustle (I’ll be diving into ) and a little more attention to the details.