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" The start of summer in New York is celebrated by thicker than normal issues from New York Magazine and Time Out listing all of the wonderful outdoor activities-concerts, theater, drive-in movies sans car, al fresco dining, and beer gardens-that fill the balmy evenings and weekends when the city turns into a convection oven and you are the meat du jour. Great in theory but my fifth summer in New York and I have yet to follow through on dancing at McCarren Park Pool to a band that reminds me that my street credibility expired with the last Strokes album. Since I missed Coney Island&amp;#039;s annual gathering of sideshow freaks and the people who love them at the mermaid parade, I escaped to another island that offers the same outrageous parade-quality peppered with a different variety of eccentricity: Fire Island.    Label-loving boys and the woman who loves them at Lo-Tea My Fire Island knowledge is exclusive to stories of my Studio-54 mother who went after the &amp;quot;invasion&amp;quot; with some friends only to find herself at a cafe ordering a second piece of the most delicious fruit pie and have the waiter reprimand her and say, &amp;quot;don&amp;#039;t you think you have had enough?&amp;quot; While the climate of sass has remained the same, this car-free island with mandatory social hours of lo-tea and high-tea is anything but the conservative name suggests. An outfit for every occasion, the idea of lo-tea conjures images of twin sets, pearls, and church-worthy shapeless A-line skirts, but at this event, the only tea being served was the Long Island variety in plastic china cups and my uniform was anything but conservative. This fusion of a Chelsea gym meets Miami Swim Week after-party was the perfect summer event to wear my ALAIA crop top, which I have been too shy (yes me shy) to debut till now. While I did enjoy second and third slices of pie (pizza that is-the only food on the island) in the privacy of our zen-chic house that looked like a location in the show Entourage, I would have offered more restraint had Adrian Grenier been there because the boys on this island are ONLY interested in my top and not the woman underneath it. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.elle.com/fashion/news/a729/babys-on-fire-3841/>