Maybe you’ve been busy. Maybe you’re a procrastinator. Maybe you just could’ve sworn Valentine’s Day was in August. Whatever the case, we got your back. Scope the last-minute giveables before you, and be redeemed.
Dinner’s a given. Four courses, a rose-and-candle presentation, champagne, monogrammed robes and slippers—you know, dinner. But here, it happens poolside, on a roof, with no one else allowed within a floor of you, and full dipping privileges afterward. Where you can bust out your special holiday cannonball.
There are purists out there who’ll tell you the only handcuffs fit for the 14th of February are the furry kind. But us, we’re open-minded. We like to think there’s room for sets dipped in 24-karat gold, from the pleasuremongers at Kiki de Montparnasse, like these. Call us romantics, but...
Telling someone how you feel in epistolary form can be daunting. Sometimes the words just aren’t there. But you can’t go wrong with chocolate. Thus, these chocolate love notes. They come in real envelopes. They require no iambic pentameter. And, once again, they’re letters that you eat.
There are ancient Eastern methods of breathing and focusing to improve your... physical well-being. The kind that Sting knows. And then there’s this guy from Astoria. A personal trainer who’s created 32 minutes of stretching and lunging for a similar outcome. This’ll come back to you in a good way.
Let’s say there’s a date out there. Your date. And, well, things just aren’t working out. And you know this going in. But here it is—Valentine’s Day. So you go. And you bring this trophy. It’s a breaking-up trophy... Yeah, you’re right. Bad idea. Funny, though.
