Pulling up to The Standard Spa Miami feels like you’re starring in a campy beach drama directed by Ryan Murphy. Bright yellow, luxurious, and with a crisp Art Deco facade, you’ll find yourself unconsciously cosplaying as a 70s-era starlet, one who’s trying to evade the paparazzi and, finally, unwind.

Prior to flying, I did some sleuthing on The Standard’s website in an attempt to find out if the hotel’s adults-only mandate meant that I could tan topless at the pool. As a Miami girl and frequenter of NYC’s clothing-optional queer beach, Jacob Riis, tan lines aren’t my favorite. Unable to find any definitive answer in their FAQs or on Reddit, I packed my LET’S SWIM by David Koma triangle bikini top and hoped, despite its flattering shape and cherry red tone, that it wouldn’t be needed. Arriving a couple of hours early to check in, I was directed toward the pool and encouraged to hang out there until the room was ready. 

First thing I saw as I walked through the pool gates? Boobs. Sorry, David Koma.

Over by the cabanas, I ordered a mezcal cocktail called El Conejo Malo (Bad Bunny in Spanish) and surveyed the scene with my girlfriend who ordered a very on-theme piña colada. Almost two years ago, two of my friends and I took a girls trip to Miami. It was a bit of a post-birthday celebration for me and they were kind enough to surprise me with a massage at the Standard Spa, so I knew from that experience what the hotel offered, but to see it from a guest’s eyes is something else.

Obviously, there’s poolside service. There’s also a zero-entry pool, meaning you can just walk right into it like you would a calm ocean. The gradual entry is perfect for enjoying a Thai coconut and a glossy read (ideally, V’s latest issue, which you can find in your room at the Standard). If you go for a swim, you’ll realize that the music playing outside is also playing inside of the pool. During one of my swims, “Smooth Operator” by Sade was playing and I felt loved in seven languages, so to speak.

If you get too hot—it never dipped below 90 degrees while I was there—don’t worry. The arctic plunge is but a few steps away from the pool and itching to soothe your blistering shoulders. It also functions as a bit of a social experiment; the way you plunge can reveal quite a bit about your ego. Me, I’m an in-and-out girl, just looking for some relief and a cheeky thrill. Others, they’ll stay until the water feels room temp, and some need a captive audience they can lecture about the benefits of cold water. The exact temperature of the plunge, I don’t remember, but I do remember a beefy man with a rat tail and Versace glasses jumping in and estimating out loud, “Definitely low fifties. Maybe 51 or 52 degrees. For sure, low fifties. Probably 51.” 

Right behind the arctic plunge, naturally, is a hot tub, one equipped with a heavy waterfall that beats down on your tense traps until you’re a happy pile of pudding. The temperature of that body of water remains unbeknownst to me. Maybe rat tail would’ve known.

More on that, the colorful clientele was something to behold. 

On day three of my stay, I ended up sitting next to, what I assume, was a British multimillionaire. He sat quietly under an umbrella, kinda smug, while a crypto bro talked his ear off about the state of the global economy, as though he wasn’t keeping up with it. Eventually, the Brit rejected his pitch. During one of my arctic plunge dips, my girlfriend sparked a conversation with a 40-something-year-old gay man whose name was Sammy. He was very sweet and kept his sunglasses on throughout his time at the hotel, checking in on us here and there with a familiar, “You girls staying out of trouble?” 20 years ago, he and his partner Kevin met at a bar after Sammy had a bit of a bad date. They came out to say bye to us before checking out. 

Needless to say, I was topless the whole time. Over the days, I noticed more and more women baring their nips in favor of a more even tan. While I was making my way to my favorite aquatic amenity, a deck that leads straight into the ocean, a girl came up to me and said, gesturing to her boobs, “You inspired me and now I’m letting it all hang out.” Her name was Gina and she, too, was looking to dive into the salty water with her girlfriend. They were both 24 years old and their rich boss gifted them this trip in lieu of a raise. Real, so real. 

As the sun began to set, we smoked a joint on the deck and watched the stingrays swim past us. The Standard is a smoke-friendly resort, so obviously an ashtray was provided.

The waterworks don’t end with the pool, though, there’s also a spa, which is included in everyone’s reservation. No extra charge. Not even for the robes. And it’s open until 10 p.m. At the spa, you’ll find everything from a fridge-like ice room to a traditional bone-dry sauna with an ocean view. There, you can get massages, facials, mani pedis, acupuncture, and even an astrology reading. I say take advantage of everything, but if you want a recommendation, go in for a K.I.S.S. (An acronym for “keep it sensual and satisfying.”) 

You’ll love it, trust me.

If you leave the spa at 10 p.m., but are still wanting to stay wet, you can hit the pool, as it’s open 24 hours, or you can take a semi-public bath if you’re lucky enough to have one included outside of your room—which I was. To say I took at least two baths a day, girlfriend included, may be an understatement. It was sexy even though—or probably because—people could walk by and see us in there. I won’t elaborate any further because that’s between me, my girlfriend, and all the guests that peaked in, but I will say that the mini fridge is quite literally stocked with horny juices, condoms, and CBD arousal tinctures.

Like, the Standard Spa really cares about your pleasure.

In the spirit of any hot girl, the Standard Spa Miami is not perfect. For example, SPF is not provided, even though the city of Miami Beach provides it in many of its public parks. You can buy SPF at the spa or hotel store, but it’s a minimum of $30 and can go up to $50. (I bought a $50 one and had to exchange it because the nozzle didn’t work. The associate was very kind about it.) Annoyingly, I’m gluten free. That makes me extra aware of menu items, which were thankfully marked as GF, but not consistently. So, let’s say the beef skewers were marked as such in the room service menu, it was often the case that it would not be marked that way in the pool menu, despite being the same dish. When I called, it would get cleared up, but not everyone calls.

But that’s really the only thing. Sexy is often messy, so it’s okay.

Something that totally exceeded my expectations was the service. Everyone at the Standard had a warm, local feel—meaning everyone spoke to me in Spanish—and had incredible recommendations for food and drinks. If you’re non-alc, I couldn’t recommend the coco limeade more. If you prefer to drink on vacay, the aforementioned drink is just as good with a bit of aged rum in it. 

Checking out was sad, especially because I left right before the Standard’s adult summer camp, Camp Standard, greeted its annual campers. A couple of nights at this place already feels like adult sleepaway camp, but Camp Standard ensures its guests a well-rounded, above standard experience; acupuncture, cocktails, fitness classes, creative workshops, and water activities, are just some of the fun activities available to campers. 

You can catch it next summer or, if you can’t wait, hit the Standard Spa this fall when it’s 80-something degrees in Miami and a chilly 51, maybe 52 degrees wherever you are.