I called a friend yesterday and she was all:

“Heeeey Garance!!! You know what? I’ve got my ass in the snow! How cool is that? Woohoo, yiiiiiha!!! Girl, it’s wicked aaawesome!!! Olé! You coming?

Okay, first off. Will somebody explain to me why winter sports make us so ridiculously happy. I am honestly curious. Is it the sun reflecting off the snow? The mulled wine? Is it the thrill of falling flat face first on the powdery white ground?   You tell me, what’s the deal?

In any case, I miss it all and I dream of writing you a post about me doing my killer flips and spins in the alpine zone… But it’s been more than three years since I’ve hit the slopes.

So, in the meantime, know that I’m totally in my element up there on the black diamonds and definitely the type of girl to rock this wooly headband in an old-school Courchevel-esque resort. And when I saw this angelic face appear before me the other day at the Comédie Française, for a second I thought I was there, right there in the snow.

Bah, no snow this weekend for me, and I’ll be out of town, sort of checking if the light in Toulouse is less grey and rainy than it is here in Paris. I’ll meet up with a fashion friend who had this to say when I bemoaned of my ski-deprived plight:

“Listen.  Garance, you know damn well that people who work in fashion don’t ski! Conflict of schedule, that’s all there is to it.”

Whatever.  But girl’s got a point.

Okay, big hugs to everyone and to those of you on a skiing adventure: I hate you so bad!!!

Bisou. :-)

Translation : Magali Eva Suárez & Tim Padraic Sullivan.