Memorial Day weekend always feels like a gentle unofficial nudge into summer. Grills get rolled out, porch pillows are fluffed and faded flags find their way to the front yard again. Red, white, and blue quietly take over—on everything from crab-shaped chip bowls to vintage blue Fiesta plates and red-and-white striped tablecloths. It's not just seasonal decor—it represents a celebration of warm weather, outdoor gatherings and longer days.
July 4th Weekend in Ocean Beach, CA, 2016.
And once the season begins, that color trio never really goes away. By the time July 4th rolls around, bunting dresses balconies, stars-and-stripes napkins join the picnic table, and cheerful tablecloths wait patiently for their piles of corn on the cob and tomato pie. Red, white, and blue isn’t just a palette—it’s a summer state of mind. It’s the backdrop to crab feasts and bourbon slushies, fruit pies and sticky fingers, and weekends that drift from porch to pool to dockside, with sandy feet and sun-warmed shoulders.
My Mom sporting her Red, White & Blue, me (Anne Thomas) and my sister Melissa off to the pool for the 4th of July, 1972.
I remember I would clean up my pink bike with the yellow banana seat for the summer. My dad would get my sister and me new American flags to clip to the backs of our bikes and red, white, and blue tassels for the handlebars. Those tassels fluttered through a hundred bike rides—from sandy boardwalks to the neighborhood pool—and by Labor Day, they were hanging on by a thread, sun-bleached and well-loved. My mom had her own summer rituals. Out came the red and white bandanna cocktail napkins and her prized blue Wedgwood china—she always switched china with the seasons. And the drink of the summer? Fish House Punch. I never knew exactly what was in it, only that it smelled strong and grown-up and meant the adults were settling in for a long, laughter-filled afternoon.
Kirsten Lee picking crabs, a summer tradition on the Chesapeake Bay.
Why do we hold so tightly to this color trio? Because it’s more than tradition—it’s celebration. It’s childhood summers and grown-up joy, a signal that it’s time to slow down, soak up the light, and savor the season. Maybe that’s why the days stretch longer: to give us a little more time for porch swings, fireworks, and spontaneous swims.
My sister Melissa and me (Anne Thomas) dressed in our Red, White and Blue for a summer party, 1975
And just like it began, summer wraps with a final hurrah—Labor Day, another three-day tribute to everything we’ve loved about the months behind us. Red, white, and blue from start to finish. Here’s to a summer full of celebration, color, and classic charm. Here's to star-spangled style, all season long.
Cheers,
Anne Thomas & Kirsten Lee
