As a native flatlander from Chicago, I’m not big into mountain sports. The first – and last – time I tried snowboarding was last Christmas in France, when I fell into a ditch and got stuck there. A group of Olympic-level Swiss (?) skiers attempted a rescue, but I just ended up sliding farther into the ditch. Finally, I convinced them to leave me to my humiliation and imminent death by freezing. (My boyfriend watched the whole scenario unfold and just stood there laughing.) After hundreds of falls and an equal number of bruises on my rear, I took off my board and stomped down the mountain, back to the equipment shop where I huffily explained in broken French “Je n’aime pas les sports d’hiver!” I eased my pain with a bottle of wine back at the lodge, and vowed never to ski or snowboard again. Fast forward one year, and I live in Colorado. There’s talk of buying all-season ski passes. At least if I have to get back on the mountain, this time I’ll do it in style.
(all photos from topshop.com)