I read the dress code line on a hotel website before I read anything else, including the room photos, the restaurant hours and the spa menu. Within approximately nine seconds I have packed, unpacked and repacked a suitcase that does not exist yet, for a trip nobody has booked. I have no shame about this. If you want to keep going, The Dressy Casual Edit: Five Lessons for the Dress Code Nobody Can Define is the one I would read next.

 

But somewhere between the sundress, the linen set and the swimsuit cover-up, resort casual has gotten a little confusing. We are told to look relaxed and also put together. We are told to pack light and also be ready for a nice dinner. Most people typing what is resort casual dress code into a search bar want permission to stop overthinking it, and I am here to grant it.

 

Which brings me to Deauville. From 1913, Gabrielle Chanel sold a line of sportswear made of jersey from her first boutique there, in a material that had been used to make men's underwear. It was an instant success, and she followed it with a couture house in Biarritz where she employed 300 workers. Vogue puts the roots of resort collections in customers who needed new wardrobes before sailing off on ocean liners, with Chanel an early profiteer of that coastal shopping. Clothes made to move in, polished enough for dinner. That is still the whole assignment.

 

Some of the advice I have read made me feel relaxed. Some of it made me feel I owed a maitre d' an ironed shirt. And some of it was a very long list of fabrics. So, here are five lessons, from the linen to the bag, for the dinner reservation by the pool. I went deeper on a related idea in The Casual Outfits Edit: Five Lessons in Getting Dressed on a Tuesday.

Linen is the quietest answer in resort casual attire, and I will defend it with approximately the energy of a trial lawyer. It is very strong and absorbent, it dries faster than cotton, and linen clothing is comfortable to wear in hot weather. It also wrinkles, which is often considered part of its charm.

 

Start with the shirts. Polo Ralph Lauren makes a logo-embroidered linen shirt in yellow and an embroidered one in navy, James Perse has a white linen-canvas shirt, and the Staud Lisa is a knotted linen shirt in pastel yellow. Then pair one with a skirt that moves: Agua by Agua Bendita floral-print linen maxi skirts (one cream, one blue and embroidered), the Kallmeyer Regina gauze midi in light gray, or the Staud Milano in red.

 

The practical test is pressing. Linen is much easier to iron when damp, so steam it in the bathroom, smooth it with your hands, then sit down in it for one minute before you leave. Creases that settle into soft folds are charm. Creases that look slept in are not.

 

What I would skip: tucking a linen shirt tightly into a gauze skirt. Let it hang loose and let it breathe.

 

Although if your linen looks perfectly flat by the second course, I would check the label.

Every hotel I have ever stalked online draws the same line at dinner. The daytime version of resort casual runs until 18:00 in Kempinski's own attire guide, after which guests are asked to change into something a notch dressier, and for women that can simply be a casual dress. That is why one maxi dress earns its suitcase space. It handles the walk to the restaurant, the table and the walk back.

 

Jersey, Chanel's own material, shows up in the Altuzarra Liza, a belted, tiered, gathered maxi in dark green. the Toteme gathered crepe maxi in white and the Tove open-back Gio in yellow silk-cloque are the calm ones. the Cult Gaia strapless Abril and the Aaron Esh draped crepe gown in brown lean dressier, and the Rodarte ruffled floral silk-chiffon maxi is the one for a night when you want to be photographed.

 

The test is the hotel staircase. Take a few steps up and down in the mirror, and if you are holding the hem like a Victorian, the dress is too long for the day.

 

What I would skip: the Pucci halterneck and anything heavily embellished for the beach path, since they are made for the terrace, not the sand.

 

Although if there is a band and a dance floor, ignore me entirely.

Flip-flops are where resort casual dress code questions usually go to die. Kempinski's resort evening guidance says both women and men can choose elegant sandals or closed-toe shoes and should avoid flip-flops, and that is as useful as a dress code gets. The answer is a flat sandal with a little structure. I also put together The Smart Casual Dress Code Edit: Five Lessons in Reading an Invitation That Says Nothing.

 

The Row Phoebe and the A.Emery Silas are plain leather and quietly serious, while the Emme Parsons Meta is a black leather thong sandal that still counts as a real shoe. Birkenstock 1774 brings the Gizeh Framed and the Arizona in leather-trimmed raffia, which is the easiest bridge between lunch and dinner. the Zimmermann embellished Belara in cream and the Manolo Blahnik Susastri in tan suede are the dressy end. the Ancient Greek Sandals Selestia is velvet in black.

 

The test is the hotel hallway. Walk the length of it and listen. If you hear a slap with every step, the shoe has not made it to dinner yet.

 

What I would skip: velvet sandals on wet tile by the pool, because you will worry about them all evening.

 

Although I admit a pair of Birkenstocks has talked me out of many heels.

Resort rooms run cold. Dining rooms run colder. I have a mild theory that air conditioning is the only thing keeping the whole vacation wardrobe industry in business, because nobody remembers to pack the layer.

 

Start with the cover-ups that count as clothes. the Pucci scalloped silk-twill kaftan and the Eres Marisa silk-twill kaftan are printed and bright, the Eres Aigue-Marine is an embroidered white linen kaftan, and the Marrakshi Life striped cotton coverup is the easiest red one to throw on over a swimsuit. Then the knits: the Missoni striped crochet-knit sweater in white, the Bottega Veneta knitted silk cardigan, the Toteme oversized organic cotton-blend sweater, and the Faithfull Luis striped knitted polo.

 

The test is the shoulder drape. Put the knit over your shoulders, then tie it loosely and sit down. If it stays put through an entire dessert, it is the right size for this job.

 

What I would skip: a heavy cable knit in a warm destination, since the point is a light layer you can forget you are carrying.

 

Although a cover-up that works on the way to dinner is probably a tiny bit too good for the beach.

Two accessories do most of the work, and a third one usually ruins it. A straw bag and gold jewelry, nothing more.

 

A raffia tote is practically the unofficial luggage of the whole genre. the Cap d'Antibes Panier and the Lié Studio Charlotte are simple tan and brown totes, the Toteme belted version is the black one, and the Jimmy Choo Bon Bon is the red checked top-handle that dresses up a plain dress. Then the gold. the Martha Calvo Ami and the Carolina Herrera earrings are both gold-tone, the Gucci Horsebit is a gold-tone necklace, and the Foundrae True Love pendant is 18-karat gold with an amethyst. Pick one earring or one necklace, not all of them.

 

Lagerfeld's last Chanel cruise show was staged inside the Grand Palais on a 148-metre liner, complete with an on-board piano bar and swimming pool. That is excess, and even there the bag was a simple one.

 

What I would skip: carrying a structured leather handbag to a poolside table. It is the one thing that gives the game away.

 

Although if the bag can hold a book, a hat and a small sunscreen, I will forgive nearly anything.

The dress code is not a test of taste. It is a hotel's polite way of saying that we would like you to arrive as a person, not as a swimsuit, and that we would still like you to be comfortable.

 

Pressed linen, a long dress, a sandal that does not slap, a knit for the cold dining room, a straw bag and gold. I will still be tempted to bring seven extra outfits, because I always do.

 

The last thing Chanel's Deauville shop taught me is that ease and polish were never opposites. Wear the dress, keep the sandals, and let the linen wrinkle a little.