Glamour toujours

Nine o’clock in the morning, Quai Jean-Jaurès. At Café Sénéquier, the first guests are sitting on bright red folding chairs and squinting into the morning sun. The deep blue sky stands out against the pastel-colored house facades. The sea glistens, a snow-white motor yacht chugs lazily out of the harbor. “Ivana” is written in bold letters on the stern.Saint-Tropez is still quiet; at this time of day, most vacationers are still in bed. However, the small fish market just behind the Sénéquier is already well frequented. Housewives and amateur chefs crowd around the freshly caught lobsters, petite red mullets, sardines from the Mediterranean and giant shrimps from Madagascar. Dorades are scaled, sole filleted, squid cleaned. Traders and customers exchange gossip and recipes, people know each other – only locals and permanent visitors with a vacation home buy at the Pêcheries Tropéziennes. Even at Le Sporting on Place des Lices, people are still among themselves at this time of day. Later, when the newly awakened scene people order the obligatory “petit noir” at the trendy counter of Tropéziens, the regulars have already arrived at the glass of Pastis and shortly after disappeared, in one of these beautiful old houses with apricot-colored facades and cascades of blooming wisteria. Or they have moved on, to the pétanque players who are clacking their balls under shady plane trees.

In the meantime, the harbor pier has been transformed into a bubbling vanity fair. All the tables at the Sénéquier have long since been taken, and next door at Le Gorille and the Bar du Port there is not a chair to be had. No one wants to miss Naomi Campbell, Beyoncé or Kate Moss stumbling down the gangway of a mega yacht. Or how Leonardo di Caprio drags his Louis Vuitton bags on board. At the height of summer, when “tout le monde” is vacationing in “St. Trop” and the hustle and bustle at the harbor reaches its peak, when the nearly 6,000 inhabitants are fleeing from up to ten times as many day tourists, the celebrity density is at its highest. Saint-Tropez is apparently never too crowded, the hustle and bustle is part of it, and even bitchy stars show themselves relaxed and in a good mood. Is it the warm Mediterranean climate and the beautiful landscape that create this miracle? Artists like Picabia and Braque, Matisse and Seurat loved the brilliant light and bright colors – their works can be seen in the lovely Musée de L’Annonciade, housed in a former chapel right on the harbor. The painters were followed by the writers: Jean-Paul Sartre, Boris Vian and Colette squatted for days on end by the harbor, pondering the meaning of life. And then came the 50s and with them Roger Vadim. “Et Dieu créa la femme” (“And God Created Woman”) was the title of his cinematic ode to Brigitte Bardot. It marked the beginning of a new life for Bardot, and a new era for Saint-Tropez. Everyone wanted to go where such a woman rises from turquoise water, everyone naked as God created him, lying in the sun on the beach of Pampelonne. Pampelonne Bay is considered the epicenter of social life during the day – although many things have changed there. The municipality of Ramatuelle, to which the beach officially belongs, has subjected it to an uncompromising environmental protection program: The bathing establishments have been moved to the back, their number reduced; they must be degradable and disappear completely in winter. Some of the institutions that had been established for decades did not receive a new license, but luxury hotels such as the Byblos, the Hôtel de Paris and La Réserve got a piece of the beach. Overall, Pampelonne now presents itself as more uniform, elegant and exclusive – which doesn’t please everyone. 

Others are coming to terms. “The new law is troublesome for us, but in return the bay will be protected and very beautiful in winter,” says Patrice de Colmont, who owns what is probably the most famous beach restaurant on the entire coast. He likes to tell how his parents discovered the then almost deserted Pampelonne Bay in 1948, bought a piece of beach including a gnarled olive grove and built a simple wooden hut there. One day Brigitte Bardot, Roger Vadim and the film crew came by. The de Colmonts were just sitting with friends at the long table they had set in the sand in front of their hut. The director thought it was restaurant and asked if they could feed his team. “No problem,” Madame de Colmont replied, cooking for about 80 people a day. “After more and more people wanted to eat with us, my father decided to make it official,” recalls Patrice de Colmont, who runs Club 55 today with his sister. Anyone who wants a table or even just a beach lounger there has to book well in advance, because the seaside establishment at the southern end of the bay is one of the best-known jet-set hangouts. But the cuisine is good, and guests such as Bono, Bill Gates, and Barbara Becker sit at one of the white-and-blue-covered tables under gnarled pine trees until the evening hours. The villas of the super-rich swim in the bay, the VIPs of tomorrow frolic on the beach, and well-tanned teenagers sit on the jetty planning the evening. Shopping? Hermès, Bottega Veneta, Dior, Diane von Fürstenberg … almost all luxury labels are represented with their own stores in Saint-Tropez. There are also star restaurants, expensive hotels, clubs and cocktail bars. But if you look, you will also find another Saint-Tropez: a village with crooked streets, small stores and people who speak with the unmistakable local accent. In addition, a harbor that looks like a Hollywood movie set every evening in the light of the bars and luxury yachts.