A Private Residential Resort · Reserved for Residents
The day, served from first light to the last glass.
Live it, hour by hour.
07:00 · First Light
The day is already served.
The St. Regis Residences, Sunny Isles Beach are an oceanfront private residential resort on 435 linear feet of Atlantic beach — reserved for residents and the people they invite, purely residential, without transient use of any kind. Before first light reaches the sand, the signature St. Regis Butler Service is already at work in every residence: the coffee poured, the day's arrangements confirmed, a chair on the beach turned toward the sunrise.
This page keeps the hours. The ruler at the base of your screen tells the time, and each hour opens another room of the resort — the beach club, the spa, the table, the salon, the Ellipse Club — until the last glass. Begin at seven, when the sand is still cool and the house is already awake.
The day passes through the lobby: ten thousand square feet on the curve of the towers, marble and brass, the beach already in the glass. Whoever is expected is greeted by name, and the elevator does not need to be called.
3
Oceanfront pools
435
Linear feet of beach
10,000
Square feet of oceanfront spa
70,000+
Square feet of private resort
09:00 · The Beach Club
Three pools, a beach, and no one you did not invite.
Effortless luxury is a chair already turned to the sun.
By nine the beach club has been laid out ahead of you. It begins where the gardens end and runs the full 435 feet of the shore: three pools stepping down toward the Atlantic — on the Sunset Pool Deck, the longest infinity-edge pool in South Florida* — and below them the cabanas, the bar & grill, and the beach attendants who carry the morning down to the sand. A lounger turned to the sun, a parasol angled to the hour, lunch brought to the water's edge without the walk back.
Nothing on this beach is shared with the public. The club is kept for the residences alone, which is why the morning is quiet: no queue at the towel stand, no stranger's music, only the tide and the people you brought with you. What looks like a resort is the ground floor of the house, with the Atlantic for a garden.
11:00 · Level 5 · The Spa
An oceanfront sanctuary, the whole of the fifth floor.
The spa takes the entire fifth level — ten thousand square feet turned toward the sea. A cold plunge and an infrared sauna; a hammam whose steam carries aromatherapy; a terrace open to the ocean for the hour after; a salon and a barbershop; a bar that pours champagne and tea. The house brands are Sothys and Davines.
Eleven is the hour for it: the beach behind you, the table still ahead, and nothing on the schedule that a butler has not already moved to make room.
13:00 · The Table
The table is laid where the glass bends toward the sea.
At one, the five-star restaurant becomes the center of the house: the dining room; the private dining room, where a grand piano waits under the curve of the glass and the beach fills the window; the lounge bar for the hour before and the hour after. The kitchen answers whatever the hour asks, and the ceremony is the same at every table.
Peonies on the linen, the sea at the edge of the plate. The afternoon can begin whenever you decide it has.
16:00 · The Afternoon
Four o'clock, and a choice of afternoons.
Some go up to the oceanfront athletic center — fitness, yoga, pilates, spinning, all of it facing the sea. Some take the salon, where a screen of brass and glass keeps the sofas one step from the pool terrace and the horizon. The children have a club and a splash zone of their own, the teenagers a club that is not the children's, and a call from another time zone is taken in the business club. When the people you invite arrive, ten suites in each tower receive them; even the pets have a spa.
Whichever afternoon you choose, it has been set out before you reach it — the towel, the mat, the glass of water, the light. That is the whole of the perfectly serviced life: not that everything is possible, but that nothing has to be asked for.
A salon open to the sea · Artist’s conceptual rendering
The perfectly serviced life, at eye level with the horizon.
19:00 · Sabrage at Sundown
Sundown is announced with a sabre.
The art of sabrage — a bottle opened with a single stroke of the blade — has belonged to the St. Regis repertoire for more than a century, beside the Bloody Mary first poured at the King Cole Bar in 1934 and the Afternoon Tea that Caroline Astor made a ritual. Ceremony is the marque's oldest habit, and the residences inherit it whole.
Here the ritual is heritage rather than timetable. The sun goes down behind the Intracoastal, the glass of the towers keeps the light a while longer, and somewhere on the Sunset Pool Deck a blade meets a bottle. The evening has begun; the butler already knows where you will take it.
22:00 · The Ellipse Club
By ten, the ellipse has become a club.
The Ellipse Club takes its name from the plan of the towers and its hours from the residents. A cognac room. A wine vault. A cigar lounge. A games room of card tables and billiards under blue oculi, the coast beyond the glass. A golf simulator for the round the day did not allow. The bar curves like the building it sits in.
It is the last room of the day and the one made for lingering — a glass, a hand of cards, the lights of the coast coming on beyond the glass. When you are ready, the elevator is private and the foyer is your own, and the day ends exactly where it began: at home.
The last glass
From first light to the last glass, the day has been served. The Sales Gallery waits a few steps down Collins Avenue — 18590 Collins Avenue, Sunny Isles Beach — where the day continues, by private appointment.