Fashionable Vacations in the Gilded Age

by Kimberly Keagan
July 1, 2026

I'm sure I'm not alone when I say I love summer vacations. This year, we're taking ours in July, which is overwhelmingly the most popular month for vacations. Like my family, millions of people take one every year, but have you ever wondered when vacations became such an integral activity on our summer itineraries?

The root of the word "vacation" is vacare is the same linguistic source that gives us words like "vacant," "vacuum," and "void". Historically, the English term originally described an ecclesiastical position or court session being empty or suspended. By the late 19th century in America, the word took on its modern sense of traveling for leisure. No longer reserved solely for the wealthy or the adventurous, summer getaways became an anticipated part of social life during the Gilded Age. With expanding rail lines and elegant hotels springing up across coasts and mountains, leisure travel was both attainable and delightfully theatrical.

A change of air promised health, amusement, and—perhaps most importantly—society.
Photo courtesy of www.messynessychic.com
Seaside Retreats: Fashion by the Shore
Seaside resorts ranked among the most popular summer destinations. Towns along the Atlantic coast bustled with visitors seeking salt air, cooling breezes, and the novelty of boardwalk life. Days were spent strolling along promenades, enjoying concerts, or watching bathers venture carefully into the surf—fully dressed by modern standards, of course.
Hotels served as social hubs. Verandas offered front-row seats to observe arrivals, admire fashions, and exchange greetings. Mornings were leisurely, afternoons social, and evenings filled with music and conversation. To be "at the seaside" was to be very much where things were happening.

Newport, Rhode Island stood at the very top of the seaside hierarchy, its "cottages" (mansions in all but name) hosting a summer society every bit as rigid as any winter ballroom. Cape May, New Jersey drew an earlier, slightly less ostentatious crowd to its gingerbread hotels, while Atlantic City built its reputation on the boardwalk itself—amusements, saltwater taffy, and a promenade made for people-watching. Farther north, Bar Harbor, Maine offered a cooler, more rugged version of seaside fashion, its rocky coastline framed by equally grand "cottages" tucked into the pines.
Mountain Air and Restorative Escapes
For those seeking quieter pleasures, mountain resorts offered a refreshing alternative. The promise of clean air and scenic beauty drew families inland to grand hotels perched amid hills and forests. Walking paths, carriage rides, and scenic overlooks provided gentle exercise and ample opportunity for conversation.

Mountain retreats carried a reputation for health and refinement. Visitors rose early, dined simply, and spent long hours outdoors. The pace was slower, the atmosphere calmer, and the setting ideal for reflection and renewed energy.

New Hampshire's White Mountains were dotted with sprawling resort hotels—grand porches, mountain views, and an air of genteel calm that drew visitors back year after year. The Catskills and the Adirondacks in New York offered a similar retreat closer to the city, their "great camps" blending rustic charm with surprising luxury. Farther south, Virginia's mineral-rich mountain air made resorts like The Homestead and The Greenbrier a favorite for those who wanted their restorative escape with a touch of Southern hospitality.
The Catskills
Photo courtesy of LostNewEngland.com
Lakes, Springs, and Country Resorts
Lake regions and mineral springs also flourished during this period. Lakeside resorts combined boating, picnics, and fishing with the comforts of hotel life. Spring resorts, famed for their waters, attracted visitors who believed in the restorative power of nature—often accompanied by a lively social scene that rivaled any seaside town.

Saratoga Springs, New York was perhaps the most famous of all, its mineral waters and racetrack drawing a crowd as interested in wagering as in wellness. Lake George, also in New York, offered steamboat excursions and mountain backdrops for a quieter lakeside holiday, while Chautauqua, tucked along its own lake in western New York, combined leisure with self-improvement—lectures and concerts alongside the boating and picnics.

These destinations allowed travelers to enjoy novelty without sacrificing comfort, blending relaxation with polite entertainment.
Photo courtesy of The Saratogan
Travel as a Social Event
Reaching these resorts was itself part of the experience. Trains filled with summer travelers became moving extensions of society, complete with conversations struck up between strangers destined for the same hotel or town. Arrival days were minor spectacles, marked by carriages, luggage, and the flurry of greetings.

Vacations were rarely solitary. Families traveled together, friends planned overlapping stays, and familiar faces appeared season after season, creating a rhythm of return that made each summer feel both new and reassuringly familiar.

Gilded Age vacations were not about escape alone—they were about renewal. Time away refreshed spirits, strengthened friendships, and reinforced social bonds. The setting might change, but the rituals of conversation, observation, and shared enjoyment remained constant.