During the pandemic, when cocktail hour would roll around and the sun would start to set, I'd think to myself this question quite a few (okay, the majority) of the nights. Despite the restrictions of the lockdown, I had eight options that were located away from the confines of my own home.

Because a trip to Paris is almost always a wise decision, I could easily reach for the glass that had the crown logo of the Hotel George V before the Four Seasons rebranding it. Alternately, choosing the vessel that bears the recognizable outlines of the twin church bell towers of Trinità dei Monti, which have been appropriated by its neighbor next door, the Hotel Hassler, means going to a very happy place. I have not yet had the opportunity to stay at this grand dame of Rome hotels; however, my aspirational imagination is filled with images of a room at the Hassler with a view from the top of the Spanish Steps. My love for Negronis has grown over the years, and the glass has always seemed like it was made for me.

Mixing a G&T in glasses from some of my favorite cities and hotels, such as Manhattan (The Pierre) or London (The Dorchester), had a bittersweet emotional value for me. Preparing a drink in the glasses from La Mamounia in Marrakech and The Peninsula in Hong Kong would make me plan trips to dream destinations. The Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo glass was the least cherished item in my collection; however, when my children became interested in James Bond movies, I found that I began to appreciate the allure of the setting more.

For the better part of the past two years, it has been logistically challenging to visit these places in real life. However, travel to these luxury hotels in far-flung locales is now more possible than it was. Instead, I had a resource on the bar cart that was available to me. The ability to find joy and escape during extremely strange and unsettling times was made possible, in large part, by one of my most prized possessions, which combines two of my favorite things — historic hotels and hotel bars.

An estate sale was held in the house that had been vacant for many years and was located directly next door to us in the neighborhood we had previously lived in. Even though I'm a huge fan of a good sale, I've learned to be wary of the temptation that comes with finding a good deal because it usually results in buying things that aren't necessary. But among the piles of unremarkable tableware that were sitting on formica countertops that hadn't been touched in years, I discovered the ultimate score: a collection of eight rocks glasses that were stamped with the logos of historic hotels from all over the world.

It turns out that the mysterious person living next door to us was a publicist for a Hollywood studio, and if her shopping habits and wardrobe are any indication, she reached the pinnacle of her career sometime in the middle of the 1980s. She did not have any living descendants at the time. The aforementioned movie PR maven left shortly after the death of her husband, which occurred not long before we moved in. Because her possessions far exceeded the built-in storage capacity of the house, the closets and additional racks were filled to the brim with items that had never been worn and still had the price tags attached from the heyday of Los Angeles retail at elegant stores such as Bullock's Wilshire and Robinson's. (And then there was the disturbing existence of what we dubbed the Creepy Clown Room, which was a bedroom tucked next to the kitchen that was dedicated to this nightmare theme.) "Creepy Clown Room" After the house was flipped, a new family moved in, but we were never able to bring ourselves to show them the before and after photos.

Despite what could be politely described as a lack of retail restraint, the house was full of evidence of a life that had been lived to the fullest. A prime illustration of this is the priceless glassware that I brought back with me. She might have been an armchair traveler for all I know; she might have been browsing through old issues of Travel + Leisure while drinking whiskey from her collection of international cocktail glasses; she might not have been interested in the logistics of managing airports, visas, and passport renewals. The reality is that it makes very little difference either way. These emotionally potent items were the best impulsive purchase I've ever made; I haven't been able to find them anywhere, not even online.

When not-so-happy-hour became more important after spring 2020, I was able to ask guests participating in distant outdoor gatherings what cocktail they were in the mood for as well as which fantasy urbane, deluxe destination they wanted to visit. This method was the perfect balance of lightheartedness and airs of superiority to dispel the existential dread we felt. Therefore, as the roller coaster ride that has been early 2022 begins to level off, these are reminders of the larger, albeit altered, world that exists outside the confines of a 10-ounce glass.