This afternoon I arrived at Whistler, BC. The sun is shinning, the sky is blue, the air is crisp, the snow seems plentiful and the village is bustling. As I sit eating my tasty all day breakfast and watching the world go by I grow more and more disappointed.
All around me there is a sea of colourful outfits, and out of all the rainbow of choices available in the world of ski gear somehow I have ended up acquiring silver grey waterproof pants and a black puffy jacket.
Sure sitting at the Cafe I have on my salmon pink cords and flamingo jumper, but when I get out into the snow I will be Ms Monochrome.
Even a raspberry beret does not cut it next to this kaleidoscope of mismatched far out gear.
|an Aussie and some ‘locals’|
|the Italian boys|
|more locals and a Swede|
|the Swedish boys tell me: “everyone looks like this there”|
|when the guy from Seattle in red and pink looks a little dull you know you are going to have to work hard to stand out from the crowd.|
All I can do is gaze in envy and ponder if I should spend all my ski dollars on a new outfit instead- but then perhaps that would defeat the purpose.