yachting costume

Yachty by Nature

Yacht rock outfits, yacht rock outfits 101.

Whether you just discovered the art of smooth or been digging smooth soft rock for a while now, the subject of Yacht Rock Outfits is on your mind. Let me just say, for those about to dock, we salute you. There is an unmistakable moment when Yacht Rock is revealed to you. For me, it happened at a fancy industry party in LA. This fab girl came up and mic dropped it so smoothly to my then 80’s band, Neon Nation , saying “you guys play any yacht rock”? Holy crap, I pretty much spit out my drink and fell to the floor wondering what I was in for.

“You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht.”

Yachty Attire

The rest is history and I’m now well into 7 years of playing keyboards in a nationally successful yacht rock band, Yachty by Nature . No doubt, I’m living that dream and it goes without saying, I’m deep in the yacht myself. With weekly yacht party after monthly yacht wedding and more, I’m becoming a Yacht Attire expert in thought and practice and already guiding the band and others in this area of fashion.

Truly, if you get the clothing right, enough people with that common goal, just add yacht music and the fun ensues. Truth be told, I’ve watched as a room full of punk rockers that committed to the groovy, eclectic yacht rock dress code transformed like you wouldn’t believe.  They turned a simple celebration with a yacht rock band into a full scale 1978 throwback LOVE FEST and the clothes were off the hook. The energy, the vibe, the clothes, the music became something so magical all its own. Build the yacht and they will sail to it.

So, next time you are having a yacht party or watching your favorite yacht rock band indulge yourself with an epic outfit that will make all it happen. It’s not just the music, the band, the vibe, the look, the energy. It’s the sum of its parts and those smooth outfits have the mighty power to transfix your situation.

The Captain’s Hat…

Yep, you guessed it, the fastest coronation to yacht rock royalty is the Captain’s Hat.  Buy one, make one, bedazzle one or borrow one. In fact, the sky is the limit here so let your creativity reign if you are gonna go for it.  But, just get one somehow, some way and you are on the yacht. In fact, Broner makes a very comfortable, quality, straightforward and good looking hat that fits well.  Additionally, it avoids the cheap fit and look of those basic hats on Amazon. Do yourself a favor, get a hat or dig deep in the vault and find a classic, vintage, or authentic captain’s hat online. Additionally, we’ve seen some pretty cool and unique creations out there, but for simplicity, fit, and value, Broner is the answer.  Lastly, remember what Hefner did for the captains hat!

Yacht Rock Stripes get it done…

No matter what color, stripes will be the 2nd easiest way to begin your yacht fashion transformation. Put on a red and white striped shirt (or blue or black mainly) and you’ll be sailing in no time. In fact, stripes are probably the #1 most sighted outfit at a yacht rock party. Just know that it’s only the start. When you accessorize over the stripes with a complementary pant color or scarf, ascot, belt, and obviously the captain’s hat or more, you’ve earned your captain’s bars quicker than you can say Ship Shape! Don’t forget to keep it simple, too much or conflicting stripes will sink that ship just as fast.

That 70’s look…

Gettin’ Yachty @ Costello’s in Mission Viejo

Due to the strong connection between the silly, the goofy, the fun and the yacht party, going retro will set a course for adventure. Call it the Ron Burgundy effect or just throwing back to the 1977 duds they wore on Midnight Special , this look is uber sexy and may attract the opposite sex faster than any other yacht look. In fact, you don’t have to look too far to find polyester or denim clad jean meat at many yacht rock concerts. Additionally, the fake mustache works wonders whether you go 70’s vintage or any different yachty outfit.  More importantly, get bonus points on your yacht rock outfits if you can get the feathered hair going!  Polyester, print shirts, and for the ladies, buy that disco dress and some fabulous glasses and you’re ready to yacht!

The Yacht Club, Tennis Club, Golf Club…

Think Caddyshack, Marina del Rey, golfing, the harbor, and tennis. Moreso, put a tennis sweater over that polo or even better go up the ladder and put on that navy blue blazer with an ascot and some yellow glasses. Actually, that’s the calling card for us in Yachty by Nature! Pretend that you’re christening the Flying Wasp or dropping anchor with Rodney Dangerfield in Caddyshack and you’ll be flying indeed. Or even better, watch Caddyshack to get in the mood for your party and let inspiration take hold…and even a few classic movie lines. In fact, if you look around the golf club or yacht club scenes, your creativity is sparked immediately.  The outfits jump right off the screen and wreak of Yacht Club greatness.  Speaking of movies, we’ve even seen a die hard Yachty arrive in the Goldie Hawn outfit from the movie Overboard. Keep your yacht rock outfits classy San Diaaaaaago!

Go Hawaiian on your Yacht Rock outfits…

Get Nauti !

Lastly, this category is a catch all for everything nautical, yachty, and seaworthy.  Use your imagination or stick to the basics.  You can don the captain’s outfit with shoulder bars easily for the Love Boat vibe.  Or, you can just look like Charlie’s Angels coming off a yacht in 1978.  Literally any type of ocean, beach, seaside, or otherwise yachty type of clothing will do.  The scarf around the neck, the boat shorts and the Nantucket red pants and plaid shirt all qualify as supremely yachty fashion.  When in doubt, check yourself by asking, “would I wear this outfit in the summer in Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard?”  Most importantly, if the answer is yes, you are yacht rock camera ready.  In fact, let’s not forget the boat shoes, deck shoes, or Sperry Top Siders all together.

Yacht Rock Outfits Wildcard…

Never forget that there’s really no authority on this subject so you can always just go for it.  Sometimes, the more uniform, standard, and strict we get on the yacht, the more mundane we become.  Therefore, don’t be afraid to dive into the vanity t-shirt, go stripes and ascot, and generally mix it up.  There are no hard and fast rules behind the Yacht Rock outfit, just your creativity and passion for the music.  From experience, we’ll go captain’s outfit one day and crazy boat shirt the next.  Ultimately, we’ve seen it all from the stage and relish the moments when people go wild with it.  In fact, there’s probably even a yacht rock adjacent area for the Pirate Party as well.  Captain Crunch sightings aside, those parties can really bring together the nauti, yachty, knotty by nature and then some.  In the end, go for it and see what happens.  It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eyepatch.  Honestly, it’s all about the fun so get Kraken!!!

As always, let the vibe be your guide.  Thus, for your next yacht rock themed party, concert, or just a Yachty night on the town, get your ensemble going.  Whether you are new to the yacht or an old deck hand, that outfit will crank up the experience.  So, commit to making that statement with your yacht clothing or up your game and improve on the garb you already have.  As we well know, you can never have enough options to mix it up for a fun night with Yachty by Nature or some other occasion.

Happy to be your guide here.  Feel free to comment and add some great ideas on this post or on social media. #yachtrock #yachtrockoutfits #yachtybynature #yachtattire #yachtrockfashion

About Author

Thanks for giving props to Tiki Caliente! I would like to point out that the most proper Hawaiian shirt to wear to a Yacht Rock concert is one that would have been for sale between 1978 and 1983! Think to yourself, would Magnum PI or Pablo Cruise wear this? And if so, bring it on! Most Magnum PI kind of Hawaiian shirts go great with a white jacket and white shorts. Vintage late ‘70s and early ‘80’s Hawaiian shirts can be found Online in Etsy yacht rock shops, and on eBay. Not expensive, and so ”vintage smooth”. Look like a pro, and be “era appropriate”. Girls can find vintage 70’s nautical dresses on Etsy, too!

THIS is everything!!! I love it Carl!!!

Ahoy Jenny! THanks so much for the kind compliment 🙂 As you know, we’re super inspired and love switching up the outfits, attire, clothing, and costumes. Yacht Rock rules!

Awesome show this past weekend at Circa Caliente glad the rain stopped so the show could go on.

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Yachting costume

Yachting costume is an adorable sailor suit in five parts. The dress of the sailor suit is stretch knit with a deep neckline. The thin laces of the yachting costume criss cross over the deep neckline. White panels with dark stripes detail the top of the yachting costume. The front of the dress is detailed with a large bow. The skirt of the yachting costume has a ruffled edge in white with attached garters and contrasting trim.

Wear the yachting costume with the included sailor's cap. The cap has a bow on the edge. Cuffs are included to complement the yachting costume with a pattern of stars and a Velcro belt is adorned with a large anchor.

Stockings are not included with the yachting costume.

Yachting costume is also available in categories:

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Captain Yachty Costume for Adults

• Small/Medium:   Aug 29 2024 Notify Me

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• 100% polyester
• Twill fabric jacket has shoulder padding, decorative rickracking
• Button down center front
• Soft breathable cotton like flower patterned shorts have an elastic band
• Matching cotton like scarf can be tied as desired
• Hat is shaped like a captains hat, embroidered details
• Metal frames has yellow plastic lenses

You're on a boat! Well, at least you'll feel like you are on a ship with this Captain Yachty Costume for Adults. Not only will you feel like you belong to the high seas, but you will look the part also. We admire those who have the legs to handle rocky waters. After years of typing and playing with toys, we don't really have the collective leg muscle to rock this Captain Costume confidently.

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For those brave enough to look this dapper during rough waters, this costume consists of a slick boating jacket and an almost regal Captain's hat. Nobody will question your authority at the next Halloween party with this on. Well, maybe a lifeguard or something, but they are just doing their jobs. If you don't have the money to spend on a yacht but want to party like you are on one, your cheapest option is to check out this Captain Yachty Costume for Adults.

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7 Best Boating and Nautical Halloween Costume Ideas

Table of Contents

Last Updated on October 4, 2022 by Boatsetter Team

Forget about ghosts and goblins—Halloween is a great time of year to show the boating spirit! From love boat captains to sailors, fish, and mermaids, you have a lot of options to choose from when coming up with nautical costume ideas—for women, men, and kids alike.

Here are seven of the top boating and nautical costume ideas for Halloween:

• Classic pirate
• Swashbuckling pirate
• Pirate wench
• Boat captain
• Scuba diver

In the mood for more spooky-season content? Be sure to read the 7 Most Haunted Lighthouses in the United States .

Celebrate Halloween on a Boat! Browse Available Boat Rentals

1. Classic Pirate

Photo Courtesy of Chasing Fireflies.

Oh, the styling of a brocade coat that screams “yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!” This women’s costume , complete with a black pirate hat and gold hoop earrings, really nails the look. And it comes with a pirate saber, just in case anyone else at the Halloween party has a few too many cups of grog and needs to be put in his place.

2. Swashbuckling Pirate

Photo Courtesy of Google Shopping.

This men’s costume   is officially called the Smiffy’s Pirate Deck Mate Captain Sea Ship—but you can call it the “swashbuckling pirate.” The headscarf and belt set the tone, and accessories like a sword, eye patch, and hand hook can complete the look.

3. Pirate Wench

Somebody had to serve grog and rum to all those classic and swashbuckling pirates back in the day. This women’s costume will get you a spot behind any bar, with a corset and head tie to complete the look.

4. Sexy Sailor

Photo Courtesy of HalloweenCostumes.com.

This Seven Seas Sailor costume is a sexy women’s take on a classy Merchant Mariner vibe, with a half-length top and thigh-high shorts that show off nearly every inch of your salty charm. The hat is borderline naughty nurse, but with an anchor decoration to make clear this look is all about the high seas.

5. Kid’s Marine Dress Blue

Photo Courtesy of Fantasy Toyland.

This kid’s costume is a smart-looking getup for any child who wants to give the impression that he or she is ready to take on official duties at the helm . Just be careful with the look of authority, because little Bobby or Bonnie might decide to start giving orders.

6. Sunny Scuba Diver

Photo Courtesy of Amazon.

Learn a few factoids about Jacques Cousteau and the early days of scuba diving, and you’ll be all set to rock this men’s scuba costume that includes a pair of fins and an air tank backpack. Diving goggles complete the look and are shaped in a way that will still let you eat and drink at the neighborhood Halloween party.

7. The Most Famous Sailor of All

Photo Courtesy of Party City.

What kind of Halloween party could be complete without a Popeye costume ? This one has tattooed muscle arm slip-ons (so you can skip eating the spinach to bulk up) and is an officially licensed version of the look from the classic cartoon.

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Kim Kavin has been on boats in more than 50 countries and islands, including in the Caribbean, Mediterranean, South Pacific, Indian Ocean and Southeast Asia. She grew up learning to steer a ski boat and Hobie Holder at her grandfather’s lake house in New Jersey, and went on to spend time aboard everything from America’s Cup racing sailboats to submarines. 

Kim is a PADI-certified scuba diver and animal lover who always enjoys a good, long look around a coral reef. Her award-winning writing and editing regularly appears in national marine magazines and on leading websites. In her early years, she was a Dow Jones editing intern and a graduate of the University of Missouri-Columbia School of Journalism. When she’s not writing, Kim can usually be found hiking northwest New Jersey’s beautiful park trails with her adopted shelter mutt, Ginger.

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*2024* YACHT ROCK vintage party attire for real![16 looks + elements]

Posted on Published: January 5, 2024

• Pinterest 481

Wondering what to wear to a vintage Yacht rock party that screams the 70s and 80s vibes?

You have come to the right place as I’m gonna share all key elements in yacht rock party attire!

First thing first, what EXACTLY is yacht rock? Is that different from the regular yacht party attire?

Broadly speaking, yacht rock is a type of popular music genre in the mid-1979s and ’80s.

It blends soft rock, smooth jazz, and blues with southern yachty vibes that are as refreshing as it’s cozy and chill to people.

In the outfit sense, think of the nautical sailing looks with a dash of good 70s and 80s vintage vibes together with some playful and funky elements.

Ahead, I’ve gathered 16 real-life yacht rock-themed party outfit ideas from Instagram along with some pro tips.

Ready? Get inspired!

1. Fun yacht-themed party attire

If you are looking for a failproof look for your coming yacht rock party, embracing the nautical theme always works wonders.

That said, think white, red, and blue for the classic color palette and corporate it with the sailor stripe details or a small navy anchor print.

Trust me, patterns x patterns in one look can never be too over the top for a wild yacht rock party time!

It’s time to get out of your comfort zone!

Trust me, there’s definitely NOT ENOUGH content for vintage fashion these days

If you are the retro girlies, there’s one thing for sure – you have impeccable taste ❤️

If you find this recommendation useful – please kindly share and pin some of the shoes so more vintage girls like you can enjoy the info!

2. A fun nautical striped top

Some of you may worry the horizontal stripes will make them look bigger.

Well, not the case anymore when you pick the flattering design!

In case you wonder, I love this fitted off-shoulder striped top from Amazon.

As a girl with chubby cheeks, the off-shoulder neckline just elongates my neck and instantly sheds down the boldness of the print like magic.

The best part? The fabric type is 95% cotton and 5% spandex so it’s super stretchy and curve-flattering.

Together with the high-waist jean shorts and nice pumps, you’re bound to feel the fanciest and most feminine.

Check out this gorgeous piece here!

3. A statement captain hat for every look

For the lazy girls who want to look party-ready with minimal effort, I’d say throw on a captain hat to nail the look.

But really, it’s the core element of the yacht rock look of all time!

If you don’t want to look too costumey, pair up the yacht rock look with a cute summer dress and espadrilles wedge just looks equally instagrammable.

Again, to blend in with the crowd, think of bright fun hues instead of the classy neutral nude or dark shades.

5. When in doubt, wear a headscarf

This beautiful lady just demonstrates this hip, headscarf-wearing chic look in the best possible way.

Whether you are going to this yacht rock party or a tropical vacation, this styling just looks irresistibly carefree and tasteful.

To add in some retro flare, spice things up with the colorful round sunglasses that scream the perfect vibes.

6. 80s yacht tie-dye attire

To look the finest in the late 70s soft rock fashion, what about having fun with the tie-dye co-ord set that was all the rage during the 1980s? 

Of course, tie-dye is always in style every few years so you can wear them on a ton of occasions!

7. What to wear to a yacht rock radio party

To stand out from the yacht rock radio party, those Barbie pink palm tree suits are sure to boost the aesthetic tenfold.

And guess what, to dress like Popeye, get yourself a pipe just such an extra pop of fun!

8. A retro sailor top for a yacht rock party

For the ladies who prefer a lowkey yacht rock party look, this top below is another lovely piece.

The elegant boat-cut neckline and the darling ribbon details just highlight the beauty of the figure and make you look curvier visually.

The big plus?

There’s a rubber lining around the neckline to make sure the top is in place. I must say that’s a rare design for this price range!

According to the Amazon review, you want to order a size down. 

9. Hawaiian shirt for a yacht rock party

When in doubt, Hawaiian shirts will give you the right dose of yachty vibes.

That said, picking the right pattern is key otherwise you will gravitate towards the luau party.

Take the right balance of tropical vibes and introduce more marine elements to the look.

When in doubt, searching “reclaimed vintage-inspired beach shirt” or treasure hunting from a thrift store always helps!

The skirt from Lilly Pulitzer is always so darling – obsessed .

10. Funny T-shirt for the yacht rock fun

All the navy party costumes are cliché? Well, think again.

This funny captain hat and T-shirt set just breathe sailing and fun into the personal vibe.

Whether you wear this for the Sunday boat party or just randomly throw it on during the weekend, this piece just screams fun in all different ways.

This set sold out quickly. Check out Amazon !

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ MY JUNE PICKS !! ʕ•̬͡•ʔ

(Continue scrolling for the article!)

11. Couple yacht rock party outfits

When it comes to other essentials, khaki short shorts, and a colorful cami top just give the yacht rock attire a modern mix. 

For petite girls, consider pairing up the body-hugging top with wide-leg pants and wedges.

It just contours the body proportion and helps you achieve an effortlessly chic look.

Yes, I’m a born fashionista.

12. One-piece retro sailor swimsuit

It takes me a long time to find the perfect yacht rock swimsuit and I just can’t be any more proud when I find this gorgeous piece.

A swimsuit with a halter neck is a big plus for me as it just comes in extra support and gives your chest the right boast.

With the horizontal stripe on the chest area, the voluminous effect is sure to impress.

As a pear-shaped girl, this swimsuit just flatters my figure in every single way.

13. Fun leaf print captain cap

If you are bored with the classic white and blue captain hat, this one with the leaf print just complements your nautical-themed party in the most distinctive way. 

Those gold embroidered badges on the front just scream “I’ve got a style and I KNOW it”.

Be the chicest captain in the house!

This is so random… BUT

hey ladies, why not quickly do an affirmation and feel instantly better?

This new year, I’m trying not only to share fashion tips but come up with ways to instill body positivity in all women who are reading my articles – aka YOU !

Instead of just reading it, say it loud or murmur the quotes (if you are in public) to maximize the effect.

Ready? Here we go.

I love my body. She is my forever home and sanctuary.

Sassy isn’t a shape, it’s an attitude.

Work out because I love my body – not because I hate it.

I can love myself and change my body at the same time. No guilt about that.

It is completely normal to have tummy rolls. I come to realize that social media isn’t showing the reality… at all.

My happiest moments in life had nothing to do with the way my body looked.

I don’t have to be pretty like her, I can be pretty like …ME.

I AM perfect imperfection.

What are your thoughts on that? I hope that makes you feel better (as you deserved).

Please help me pass the body positivity message in your community. #womenhelpwomen

Alright, now keep on reading!

14. 70s yacht rock fashion

Sometimes, having fun is as simple as dressing up and striking a pose with your besties together!

Don’t know about you but I’m the happiest when floating in the sea. That’s for sure!

15. What to wear to a yacht rock concert

To show your love towards the yacht rock style in parties and everyday life, a statement “Prestige worldwide boats & hoes” tee is such a lovely choice.

These days, people love mixing classic and casual pieces together.

To jazz up the T-shirt look, consider adding in the blue blazer, white pants, and loafers to finish up the set.

16. What to wear to a yacht rock party

Last but not least, here’s my favorite look.

A captain hat with a striped cut-out jumpsuit that looks as simple as it looks hot and sassy.

To bring this look to the good old 70s, slip in the red kitten heels just add an unexpected twist to the get-up.

TIME FOR GLAM SIS.

If you are reading till this point, I’m sure you are the fashion girlies. If yes, check out my newly set-up (Like literally this June) insta @hannahnfashion for more <3 See you there pretty ladies!

And guess what, if a guy ever asks you “what you bring to the table”, show him this reel lol

View this post on Instagram A post shared by Hannah💕 Wearable feminine outfit ideas & styling tips (@hannahnfashion)

FINAL THOUGHTS:

So there you go – the 16 yacht rock party attire to look the best in all kinds of nautical themes boat parties! 

What are your thoughts on these smooth-sailing soft rock from the 70s and 80s?

Hope these tips help you settle on the right outfit!

At the end of the day, don’t overstress the outfit as I’m sure it will turn out great anyway.

All you need is to throw all the stress behind you and embrace the freedom, open air, and adventure!

Looking for more yacht outfit ideas?

Check out my other blog posts below! See you there loves ♥

• [38 updated outfits!] What to wear for the boat cruise?
• *15 vintage elements!* 90s plaid skirt & dress outfits
• [FULL LIST] What to wear on a Viking & Scenic river cruise (Summer + winter!)
• 21 Comfortable Vintage shoes heels *8 types!* (Read this post before you buy any vintage shoes!)
• 20 Prohibition party outfits + tips (more than a flapper dress!)

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I Put Up a Fence in Maine. Why Did It Cause Such a Fuss?

The goal was to shield our house from the road, but it soon turned into something much more revealing.

The author, Heidi Julavits, at her home, which was built in 1815. Credit... Fumi Nagasaka for The New York Times

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By Heidi Julavits

Heidi Julavits is a writer who grew up in Portland, Maine.

• July 15, 2024

When we bought our house in Maine 23 years ago, people welcomed us to town with tales of local mishaps and gaffes. Barns that almost burned down. Pipes that burst. The man a mile down the road who built a fence. This chatty imparting of intel functioned simultaneously as a gesture of hospitality and a comical how-not-to primer, containing valuable survival and etiquette tips. Our town of about 830 residents more than doubles in size during the summer, when part-time residents like me arrive. The fence story suggested what types of behavior on your personal property were, and were not, considered neighborly in a town where zoning ordinances are few.

Listen to this article, read by Kirsten Potter

“You won’t ever get rid of the magazine room, will you?” people asked. The magazine room is on our house’s second floor. It’s basically a vintage mood board, and more of a windowless crawl space than a room, accessible through what looks like a cupboard door. A much earlier resident, or successive generations of earlier residents, had patchworked the pitched, unpainted walls of the magazine room with clippings from what appeared to be fashion, adventure-story and homemaking periodicals dating to the first half of the 1900s.

We promised never to renovate the magazine room.

We promised to change very little about our house, at least what was visible from the road, including the 11-foot-tall deciduous hedge that ran the length of our yard and seasonally blurred our view of the traffic coming in and out of town.

But then the hedge began to fail. An expert from a nearby nursery arrived with a clipboard and pronounced our hedge an invasive, nonnative weed, not worth saving. But we loved the weed. We topped it. We fertilized it.

It was on the leisurely upswing when, 16 years after we bought our house, a woman driving a fancy S.U.V. jumped the culvert, plowed through the hedge, jumped the culvert again and sped off. Had the man behind her not followed her home, she might have tried to get away with her (as everyone agreed) very impressive stunt driving.

We weren’t in town at the time, and so could only view photographic evidence of the damage: the gouged earth, the long hedge like a smile missing some of its teeth. Our reaction was impulsive and in retrospect, baffling: We would use the money we received from the stunt driver to put up a fence.

Even one year earlier, we might have planted a new hedge, possibly even a native one. But the person driving over our front lawn felt like a slapstick escalation of a recent trend I had observed. Previously, living on our road was like living on the ocean, but with much lower property taxes; its perils could be charted and managed, like the tides. But then the unofficial speed limit outside our house increased from 35 m.p.h. to 45, even occasionally 50. At this time, I had younger children, and many friends with young children, and a trampoline in the backyard that, even if we weren’t home, was “open” to bouncing enthusiasts, which sometimes included middle-aged men when the neighborhood threw parties. The slight curve near our driveway made it difficult to see cars coming at higher speeds, which meant even adults, people arguably in possession of better judgment than a 7-year-old, were nearly hit a few times trying to leave on a bike.

At first, I accepted (even embraced!) the road as my problem to solve, and thus I indulged many energizing, problem-solving fantasies. I would pay my daughter to wear a cop costume and stand at the end of our driveway and point a hair dryer, which at high speeds would register as a radar gun, at oncoming cars. I would put up the sort of signs that make me slow down. FREE STUFF. YARD SALE. I would buy a baby doll, strap it into a stroller and leave the stroller in the middle of the road.

But I also felt resigned to a foregone fate. The intensifying situation on the road, I suspected, was the natural progression of an economic agreement struck more than a century ago between transportation advances and Maine as a nonexportable resource. The state’s slogan “Vacationland” first appeared on car license plates in 1936 and still appears on the Maine border sign that greets drivers as they enter via I-95, the state’s primary national highway. But Maine’s identity as a seasonal purification rite for urbanites dates further back than even the invention of cars, to the years following the Civil War.

I’m neurotically attuned (some might say) to this history’s lingering rumbles. I was born and raised in Maine, and so I’ve been versed since my earliest moments of sentience in Maine’s identity as something both staunchly fixed and, during the summer months, menaced from all directions, including the sea, by visitors — “From Aways.” While my parents moved to Portland in 1965, after which my brother and I were born, we were also, according to some measures of nativeness, invaders ourselves. Rather than “Mainers Who Can Trace Their Mainerness Back Through Many Generations of Other Mainers Who Lived Only in Maine,” my parents, and by eventual extension my brother and I, were the type of Mainer defined as “Year-Round Resident, Seasonally Irritated.”

Yet my father was and is Mainer enough that this history still irks him. He recently, while visiting, groused of summer people (to me, now technically a summer person), “They showed up thinking we should adapt to their ways, rather than them adapting to ours.” His frustration was not about “us” demanding compliance, and failing to get it, from part-time residents or tourists; he was reacting to the outsiders’ hubristic refusal to value local knowledge that a person might share as a form of wary welcome.

He and my mother still love to tell the story that they heard from friends of an 1980s invasion by the New York Yacht Club, when their annual summer cruise came to Maine. The story, which the Yacht Club denies ever happened, has to me the true-ringing feel of what was then a century’s worth of encounters between Mainers and summer people, efficiently condensed into a colorful how-not-to tale. The club members, ignoring the cautions from local bystanders, piled onto a dock as if it were a commuter-train platform and waited for a launch to take them to their individual yachts, presumably sailed north for them by hired captains. The dock float sank lower and lower and finally swamped, dumping into the harbor the club members, some of whom had flown to the Portland International Jetport straight from New York in their business suits and were still, when they hit the ocean, holding their briefcases.

During the summer of 2016, when the speed of cars driving past our house was frequently 10 to 15 m.p.h. above the posted limit, I did something I’d never done before. I complained. I visited the town selectmen, one of whom asked, “Are you related to Bill?” He and my father worked together, we eventually determined, back in the ’90s. This is how encounters tend to start in a state with just over a million people, in a town with just under a thousand people, when you have a last name that not even your close childhood friends can spell.

The selectmen were sympathetic to the speeding issue — I was not the first to complain, and nor were these complaints coming only from seasonal residents — but their message of thoughtful, if cautious, consideration reflected those I’d encountered in casual conversation. Possibly, the town’s attitude toward speeding was like the attitude toward zoning laws, or the ongoing lack of them — a respectful attempt to manage new civic challenges while preserving the state’s historical spirit of self-determination.

My husband and I honored that spirit after the stunt driver busted through our hedge. Our small son, when informed about our plans to build a fence, stared melancholically through the ragged gap, as if we’d just told him that we intended to continue the damage that the stunt driver had only begun — which in a sense, we had.

“Only depressed people build fences,” he said.

We didn’t lecture him on the difference between depression and anxiety, between anxiety and acute situational awareness, between acute situational awareness and instant, awful death, because first we needed to fully kill the hedge we had spent nearly a decade trying to save. Then we needed someone to install the fence. We settled on a fence company located a little over an hour away. The reviews were good. Their customers — whoever they were, and in whatever bizarre, fence-loving towns they lived — seemed happy.

But as we scrolled through fence styles online, none seemed like the obvious choice. My inability to know which fence was the right fence should have suggested: There was no right fence. True, I was not fluent in the language of fences. I didn’t know how tall a fence should be. I didn’t know what kind of fence would look best with our house, because our house, and most houses like it, did not have fences marking a property boundary. Maine was more of a “sign” place. This was how you knew you were crossing, or trespassing, a border.

Signs change, however; or maybe it’s more accurate to say that the messages on signs do. Despite what would seem to be its wild success, the “Vacationland” state slogan was updated in 1987 by Maine’s Office of Tourism to “The Way Life Should Be.” (A giant sign posted on I-95 near Kittery read in full, “Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be.”)

This new slogan, while on its surface more breezily aspirational, caused perplexity, and signaled different things to different people. If, for example, a person had recently met with their local elected officials, they might think that Maine, as a matter of no-frills pragmatism (and increasingly, it seemed, as a marketing virtue) wasn’t hampered by the sometimes-unnuanced oversteps of federal governance. Others might find the slogan puzzlingly out of touch, given that poverty rates were on the rise; what, too, might the slogan imply in a state whose racial demographics were 98 percent white? Others might worry the slogan could risk insulting tourists, presumably the target audience, about their way of life.

“The Way Life Should Be,” depending on the song that happened to be playing in your car after you drove over the border and first beheld the welcome sign, could also thrum with minor-key warning: Don’t come here thinking that things need to change.

But one thing that kept changing was the state’s highway signage. Gov. Angus King, an independent who held office from 1995 until 2003, installed two additional signs flanking I-95, “Maine. Worth a Visit. Worth a Lifetime” — the equivalent of a person seeding your subconscious as you entered the state and then handing you a tempting real estate listing as you left. Later, in 2011, Gov. Paul LePage, a Republican, sharpened King’s suggestive soft sell into what sounded like a deregulated fire sale by attaching, beneath the original northbound sign, a supplemental message. Now it read, “Welcome to Maine/The Way Life Should Be/OPEN FOR BUSINESS.”

Our choice of fence may have abided by some, all or none of these slogans. Seven feet tall, the fence was solid, not lattice-y, made of vertical cedar tongue-and-groove boards. (The invoice we received from the fence company bluntly itemized it as a “privacy panel.”) We had decided that if we were going to build a fence, we should seize the chance not to see cars, and to muffle the rise and fall of their engines. Before the stunt-driver incident, some friends were visiting with their dog when it ran into the road and was killed. (My father, standing in our yard at the time, said, “At least it wasn’t a kid.” He might have tabled this observation for a few hours or weeks, but he wasn’t wrong.) At that point, I was still hearing a large animal being struck every time a car drove by, especially because of what my father had said: The dog might have been a kid.

The fence we chose was topped by a mini-fence detail that ran the length of it, to visually soften the highway-sound-barrier vibe. The cap rail read “fence” in the way the fence did not, which further suggested: This fence was not only a fence. It was also an overreaction — a fearful response to what might have happened, rather than what did. And if the fence was meant to decrease the chances that a person might drive into the yard again, or that one of us might be hit on the road, it did not make us safer from either threat.

I wasn’t home the day the fence was installed. I left in the morning, and by the time I returned, it was there. It was far too tall for our tiny house behind it. It was an unweathered cedar slab, practically neon-yellow when the sun hit it. It gave me an awful feeling of remorse in the pit of my stomach from the moment I first saw it.

The fence caused an immediate stir, which I found highly distressing, but also affirming, because I agreed with the dissenters, some of whom were my dear friends. Other members of the community conveyed their feelings publicly, in writing. Our town is home to at least one, and maybe more, anonymous activists who express their opinions via handmade signs; they’re like an online comments section, posted high — often very high — in the air. One of these commenters posted a sign on the road, just north of our house, which, on the plus side, possibly caused the average speed limit to temporarily decrease. TRUMP’S BORDER WALL 1 MILE AHEAD. The sign was nailed to the top of an electrical pole; the inability to remove it without a bucket truck reinforced the permanence of the opinion.

At first, this message, much like “The Way Life Should be,” contained a multiplicity of possible readings. What might, however, initially be interpreted as a protest by a left-wing resident was in fact — at least I think it was — in 2017 a much more layered calling-out of our presumed liberalism, as city-dwelling From Aways. If so, I took their point. Look at these hypocritical people who are probably opposed to Trump’s wall, putting up a wall.

After the initial furor died down, circumspect friends would say, consolingly, “It’ll gray up eventually.” One or two congratulated me. I had every right to build a fence. Others refused to countenance my regret. When I shared my thoughts about future plants or bushes that might take the fence’s place, should it magically disappear, one person said, “I think you have to accept the fact of the fence.”

These varied responses summed up the paradox of the fence. It was the most From Away thing I could have done; it was also the most Maine thing I could have done. People were discouraged from building fences, but because it was our property, nobody had the right to tell us what we could do on it.

This also probably explained why no one vandalized the fence, even though it was a long, blank canvas that honestly might have looked a little cheerier with a hit of spray paint. It was my psychological boundary line made material. People respected it. In some ways, they respected it too much. The fence altered our social weather patterns. Before the fence, friends and acquaintances would stop by regularly. After we built the fence, these impromptu visits slowed. Some people started to text beforehand to announce they’d be dropping by, or to ask if it was OK; they suddenly felt they needed permission to see us.

As the summer wound down, acquaintances and friends would ask ribbingly, “How’s your wall?” Most people had an opinion, or a teasing-yet-not comment, which at a minimum illustrates how visible our house is and how many people drive past it.

Yet on the plus side, which I strove to see, we were becoming the future tale to be told to newcomers; our fence, and the community response to it, would be entered in the oral history, and we would be immortalized. It wouldn’t be the first time: After taking ownership of our house in 2001, we wasted no time starring in a cautionary story about arrivals to town who didn’t know much. Our very first winter, we turned off the breaker to the sump pump instead of the well pump, and then there was a violent rainstorm, then the basement flooded, then the furnace became submerged and broke, then the temperature plummeted, then the pipes burst, then the well pump continued to empty the well water into the dining room, and because our foundation slumps toward the woods, then the water flowed out below the roofline and formed a thick, frozen waterfall on the exterior wall that threatened to pull down the back half of the house.

Not for the last time, we were a source of comedic incompetence; we had failed to understand how winter works, and how water works, and how electricity works. But the story of the fence was proof of a different, more publicly visible failure to understand. Or worse: understanding, but not caring.

We did care. This made the fact of the fence inscrutable even to us. Not even a year after building the fence, my husband stood outside one evening, assessing it with a look of bewilderment. “I don’t know why we did that,” he said.

The following summer, we planted a row of native, climbing hydrangeas to cover the exterior of the fence in green so that, to those driving by even at moderate speeds, it might be indistinguishable from the previous hedge. The hydrangeas grew quickly, but not quickly enough. I found myself caught between guilt and annoyance when greeted by someone with another “wall” joke. If the people who lived in town weren’t thrilled with the fence, they had every good reason to feel that way, because we’d permanently altered their view; also, they had learned to coexist with the road without building a fence, so why couldn’t we?

I had less patience for the seasonal people who lived on the water, far from the busy road. They were cranky that their scenic drive to the grocery store had been changed; they could no longer be cleansed by the preindustrial beauty of Maine as they sped past our old farmhouse to buy food. I had to hold my tongue when a patrician summer person who lived on the coast, down two private dirt roads, announced to me, “It is a person’s community duty not to change the front of their house.”

Which sentiment I did not entirely disagree with. Our house, for example, was both ours and not. For nearly a decade, our house was referred to by the former owner’s name; for the FedEx delivery person to find us, we had to repeatedly clarify that we lived in their house. In our town, maybe in many small towns, the houses are a way of recording recent human history. Our house was communal property, in a sense; a public holding of the historical society.

This was also why we were so committed to preserving the magazine room. It functioned as a museum to the generations who preceded us. I often took visitors up to see the clippings, though the room had become harder and harder to access. First there were five, then 10, then 15 years’ worth of books and clothing barricading entry. Only the most agile person could squeeze past the threshold, or a committed, bushwhacking person like my daughter, who always found a new cache of clothes that interested her as the fashion trends in her present made renewably relevant the leftovers of our past, which we had stuffed into trash bags and taken to hurling from the doorway into the middle of the room.

Yet questions of preservation — and how a slogan like “The Way Life Should Be” might freeze a place in time, or raise questions of what should be, rather than what is — could, depending on your interpretation, suggest a widespread consensus that never existed. In 2019, Gov. Janet Mills, a Democrat, replaced LePage’s “Welcome to Maine/The Way Life Should Be/OPEN FOR BUSINESS” with, simply, “MAINE/Welcome Home.” (Three months later Mills added back the 1987 slogan; the sign currently reads “MAINE/Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be.”) This latest tweak might announce the state’s increased openness, not just to seasonal visitors but also to people relocating from other states and countries. It might be an exhortation for residents, new and old, to consider the state not as a fixed entity but as an increasingly porous and diverse one, built atop a sturdy foundation of resourcefulness and autonomy.

The responsibilities a newcomer might have, or not have, in a place they call home, even for part of the year — these are questions that I think about constantly. When is inaction in the name of respect, or preservation, an abnegation of civic duty? When is preservation used as noble cover to forbid new people’s access to a place? When is a newcomer’s confident sense of what should be actually an imposition of their values?

But “Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be” is also the epigraph to every person’s childhood memories, assuming they associate home with happiness. That nostalgia — also the sense of melancholy or outrage — can intensify in direct proportion to the amount of change that has happened to your home since you left it.

The fence is seven years old now, but it is still occasionally a source of friendly teasing. Last winter, I drove up alone, and arrived after dark, and left my car in the road so I could move a branch that had fallen across the driveway. A friend pulled up beside me and said, smiling, “Are you locked out of your compound?”

Each passing year also deepens a paradox; to add more months to the time I’ve spent in Maine adds more months to the time I’ve spent not in Maine. If time is the singular measure, the longer I live in Maine, the more of a From Away I become.

Yet even when I’m not in Maine, I represent a demographic causing an increasingly dire housing crisis. Mills’s welcome sign became prophetic; during the pandemic, people from out of state bought places that had been on the market for years, in some cases more than a decade.

In 2019, the average sale price in our county was down about 25 percent from the previous year. But between 2020 and 2021, the average sale price increased by almost 41 percent. Our house, for years a depreciating-to-stagnant money pit, was suddenly worth so much that we might have nearly broken even had we decided to sell; but the price point would dictate that buyer would probably be a From Away, and a well-off one.

This trend extends beyond our county. In May, Portland, my former hometown, was named the “hottest luxury housing market in the United States” for the third quarter in a row, its prices up 22 percent from 2023. And yet, despite the rise in housing costs and the state’s evolving national appeal — from wilderness idyll for those who enjoy freezing water, no-sand beaches and insect sieges to a differently commodified version of escape — certain local numbers might suggest that little has changed. The number of children in the public elementary school has remained roughly the same. The town voting rolls haven’t increased much; there were, however, 30 or 40 more car registrations during the pandemic.

Some in town seem invested in change, and more of it may be on the horizon. Given that the community isn’t a monolith and never was, these shifts are not unanimously viewed as either losses or improvements. A committee formed to consider hiring a harbor master. The anonymous sign-posters were busy again when the selectmen decided to no longer allow an annual ritual in which people drag busted docks and boats and appliances into the center of town and host a gathering late into the night, after which, at dawn, a man with a crane takes the junk pile to the dump. Some of the signs were historically indignant: “100+ YEAR … TRADITION.” Others, hung on top of electrical poles, were more taunting: “NICE TRY SELECTMEN.” Others spoke to a broader crisis: “WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO?”

The town installed a permanent speed monitor, which I believe is meant to flash when a person is driving above the posted limit, but it’s hard to know for certain. The current monitor is actually the second of its kind, because the original sustained a fatal shooting, and the new one soon acquired half a dozen bullet holes, and so doesn’t work either. The monitor, in alerting nobody to anything save someone’s opposition to it, was maybe more a public referendum on speed management than a speed-management strategy.

Other things are changing, too. The magazine room, like the hedge before it, is failing. Allowing a thing to simply be, it turns out, is a slow path to its extinction. The uninsulated space heats up these days to what must be over 100 degrees during the summer, and for that reason I tend not to go there, and so was surprised to find, while we were supposedly preserving it, that the magazine room is in ruins. The glue is decomposing; the desiccated clippings, when touched, turn to dust. Someday, the walls will be bare.

Our fence, meanwhile, has weathered to a medium-dark gray. The climbing hydrangeas look like goofy, bungling creatures, their paws pushing through the railings on top of the fence, so that I can see them even when I’m behind it. Their invasion is a welcome one. I’ve started to wonder whether if, in the future, the person who owns this house decides to take the fence down, such a decision will prove controversial; might the fence, a once-glaring newcomer, be considered part of the town’s history and thus, like the magazine room, qualify for protection? If nothing else, and in the meantime, will people wish to preserve the tradition of teasing us about it?

I might even wish to preserve that tradition. The familiar ribbing — “How’s your wall?” — is practiced by fewer and fewer people, to the point that now it feels like an affectionate and even nostalgic way of greeting me after I’ve been away. The once-habitual exchange preserves a record, the way the historical society preserves photos of buildings and residents that no longer exist, of the occasional challenges of coexistence, even or especially among well-meaning people who like and respect one another.

One day last summer, as I was standing at the end of my driveway, a woman I’d never seen before walked by. She might have been a new resident, or someone’s guest, or a person on vacation. I experienced an odd mixture of relief and sorrow when she smiled at me and said, “That is such a beautiful fence.”

Heidi Julavits is a writer whose recent memoir is “Directions to Myself.” Fumi Nagasaka is a photographer in New York whose work over the last few years has focused on documenting America. For this assignment, she traveled to three different towns in Maine.

Read by Kirsten Potter

Narration produced by Emma Kehlbeck and Krish Seenivasan

Engineered by Lance Neal

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