Excuse me, but what the fuck is this?
Up a mountain? Oh yeah. I'm so cool I'm dressed like a rock.
Oh. I know. It's Vogue magazine peddling drivel on the subject of skiing. As if they have even a rhesus monkey's inkling in Higgs Bosun of what they're talking about.
Allow me to speak for an entire section of snow-borne society in saying this to you Vogue:
Yes Vogue you bunch of prancing tossers. I'm talking to you. Peddling this kind of bullshit in our territory, is not welcome. You don't belong here. How dare you write an article on 'ski chic', when you don't ski? If Seth Morrison turned up on the Paris catwalk and started lecturing Kate Sodding Moss about Manolo Blahniks what sort of expression do you think would creep over her alabaster features? It would be one of pure fury, disdain and bile-soaked ire... So may I enquire why you feel entitled to print such a load of drivel and sell it to the unsuspecting, paying public?
Aren't your tits a bit cold, luv?
For those of you without the stomach to read it, let me summarise this lacklustre piece of pseudo-fashion journalism for you. The general gist is as follows:
"How to be ski chic? Don't ski. As every on-trend fashionista knows, skiing is a non essential part of a ski holiday. The real point is to get selfies and be 'seen' poncing around in Lacroix with a fruit bowl on your head, looking like a cunt."
I don't know where to begin with this article. I feel deeply in my soul that it's the root of everything that's wrong with ski resorts and the 'upper echelons' of the clientelle that visit them. Particularly people like Sadie Fucking Frost. And Nick Knob Grimshaw.
A few of my choice turds from this article:
Er....I beg to differ. What in the name of Zeus' left testicle are you talking about?
Yes. That's true, if you're seven years old and your parents are blind people from China.
...I think more than anything it's the haughty, conceited, know-it-all tone of this article that offends me most. It oozes arrogance -that familiar hallmark of the ignoramus - like a suppurating boil. It's meant to be tongue in cheek. But no. It's just shit.
Nick Grimshaw and Sadie Frost took meditation classes instead of skiing, did they? Well hopefully the narcissistic, agave syrup guzzling half-wits spent the time meditating on what a pair of cunts they are, wasting money in an otherwise hostile environment.
Meditation clearly working wonders there Sade...
You turn up in your over-egged four by four, demanding heated driveways, so you don't slip over in your stupid, overpriced shoes and your canine canape's feet don't freeze, raising the temperatures in the resort and fucking the environment while you're at it. Then you proceed to not ride because you have no joy in your soul.
If you have come to a resort to 'see' and 'be seen' one has to ask, why? Aren't there a million other less extreme environments in which you can satisfy your nebular ego? You have totally missed the point of what the mountains have to offer. You can prance around in a fur lined Moncler anorak anywhere. Go to Siberia and die. I certainly don't want to look at you. Especially if you're that much of a hag that over exposure to clean mountain air makes your skin chafe and flake off. Maybe you should lay off the cocaine and botox if that's the case! Or eat some meat (because you're no doubt vegan or some shit like a 'Cloudarian').
This kind of crap is exactly why bitches don't ski no more!
Ladies of the Alps, I say to you that people like this should be pole whacked in the Montcler tits. Don't be a Sadie, or an Arizona or a Tamara. Be an Aimee or a Jenny.Get out there and live, and ride and get messy and scare yourself. Say yes to everything. Jig around topless with a pint of Mutzig in each hand. Crowd surf. Then be on the mountain at 8.45 choking back the sick, but RIDING GOD DAMN IT. Girls that ride are awesome. I've met some of the most, interesting, capable women of my life on ski seasons. The type who, like Aimee, will go upside down just to get the crowd going.They have bigger balls than most guys you'll meet. They're the type of women you aspire to be friends with.
Both these ladies, I might add, started their ski careers scrubbing poo off u-bends in chalets, so none of you lot out there have any excuse.
What is more troubling though, about this fact, is it actually indicates that there is a modicum of believability behind the story line of 'Chalet Girl' the movie...
So in conclusion, if you want ski fashion tips don't take them from Vogue. Take them from this lady:
I hope you'll unite with me in saying "Vogue! Take your cashmere-cunt readership, piss off back to your air conditioned Notting Hill conversions and stop throwing cigarettes all over the mountain and pushing up the prices."
Here's the reality. If you go to a ski resort and you don't ski, you are not chic. You're just a dick, in the mountains.