Lighter fare
paperback + spring ski style
Big news: the paperback edition of The Portrait of a Mirror will be in bookstores in less than two months on May 10, 2022. It features this bright new cover to match its light new frame (and price!), and is available for preorder now.
Here’s the full jacket:
I’m particularly thrilled to have the comps to Donna Tartt, Jonathan Franzen, and Edith Wharton (“Pussy Jones” herself!) on the new cover, all of whom appear in the novel’s appendix as “Anxieties of Influence.”
My second topic for today—by request, and with more than you might imagine in common with Portrait’s paperback cover—is spring ski style. I say spring ski style specifically, because it is exceedingly difficult to achieve panache when it’s bitching cold; this is true both technically/artistically and sartorially speaking. Also, I recently returned from the sort of absurdly gorgeous week in Colorado you’re more likely to find in late March or April, and this was largely what was on display and top of mind.
Form
Ski style encompasses two distinct yet interrelated elements: form and fashion. While the fashion side is of keen interest and I’ll cover it in detail below, much of the pleasure I take in ski style actually lies in pure fashion’s insufficiency—that true swagger in this sphere is nearly impossible to achieve if one does not know the techne. An elegant skier carving swift turns with ease becomes, by her skill and artistry, a model not only of form but also fashion; the mountain-hardened shabbiness of certain of her accoutrements might well become preferable to the latest gear worn by a novice. It is form that can transfigure a basin into Mambrino’s helmet, or Mambrino’s helmet into a basin.
However, while professional skiers do thus contribute to ski style trends (and I’m periodically fascinated by these niche developments in women’s downhill skiing), I’d argue that they tend to contribute less in this regard than the respective professionals of other sports. The appeal of amateur, resort skiing lies too firmly in its delightful union of sport and leisure, and the introduction of the latter as a stylistic guiding principle mitigates if not displaces the influence of professionals with that of, say, Slim Aarons. The necessary convergence in form (and fashion’s subservient support of it) at the elite pinnacle gives way to resort skiing’s uncommonly high potential for stylistic diversity and variance—and a far more intriguingly sophisticated dance of Veblenesque and mimetic tendencies.
My ideal when it comes to slope form, which is to say, what I find most beautiful as well as personally enjoyable, is basically effortless mastery: it is expert yet relaxed, languidly fast, tightly parallel without rigidity, and executed with comfort anywhere on the mountain. This includes, because there is nothing to prove, luxuriating in moderate and even easy terrain. I’d call it manufactured nonchalance except perhaps what I love most about skiing, having had the outrageous fortune to learn very young, is that it’s one of (if not the only) things I’m good at that genuinely comes as naturally to me as I’d like it to appear to. When I’m flying down the mountain on a bluebird day—and it really does, exhilaratingly, often feel like flying—I’m momentarily able to experience the total reconciliation of who I am and who I’d like to be. It’s as if art and life become one. I am surprised there are not more literary novels about skiing.
Fashion
So, with the big caveat that most products will not materially address form, I have many thoughts on the gear side of the equation; judging by the outsized success of my previous newsletter on luxury bathrobes, this is probably why you are here.
Before I get to specific recommendations, three personal guiding principles:
New-old mix is high-low cool. Unless you are an actual professional skier or so absurdly dazzling that you might as well be, all-new-state-of-the-art everything often looks neophytic and fussy. Hanging onto high-quality pieces season after season and replacing them only when you see a degradation in functionality or happen upon a particularly worthy successor tends to cultivate a more distinctive style.
Patina over preciousness. To the previous point, you want to invest in high-quality products that last—but they won’t last forever. Embrace the wear and tear while you enjoy them. While it makes sense to take reasonable steps off-mountain (e.g., using a goggles case), just let it rip on the hill. Wear and tear often enhances one’s look anyway.
Modular is better. I know some people love one-piece ski suits but I just don’t get it; modular, layered dressing provides greater flexibility to adjust to the weather (not to mention in using the bathroom). Even a perfect spring day can be uncomfortable if you are overdressed, and comfort is key to actual as opposed to Instagram leisure.
Skis & boots & poles
I demoed a few different skis in 2020 just before Covid hit, and have been thoroughly delighted with my final choice: the blackcrows Captis Birdie. Their new color for 2022 is very cool:
These are lighter and bendier and, at 90mm, substantially wider than my previous skis, but maintain a bit more structure than the hugely popular Blizzard Black Pearl, which were the runner up for me.
For men: my father-in-law recently upgraded to the Nordica Enforcer and likes them—and every third dude we rode the lift up with admired them, too. I myself went with Nordica in the boot department, specifically the Sportmachine 95, and have been likewise pleased.
Provided you go to a specialty store with knowledgable salespeople, I recommend just getting whatever mid-range binding they advise will work best with your boots and skis. It’s a good-better-best-type product situation where the actual best answer is generally to go with the “better” option. Ditto for poles. I chose these ones from Leki basically because they were the proper height and I had a chuckle at the name “Elite Lady.”
Eyewear & helmets
My helmet is an ancient Giro, though the next one I buy will probably be a Smith after seeing my husband’s absurdly gorgeous new curved-lens 4D Mag goggles, which I may upgrade to myself in the next couple of years.
Spring skiing also presents a further array of choice eyewear in the form of sunglasses, which are perhaps my favorite category of accessories period, skiing or otherwise. The best beater sunglasses, in my view, are Knockaround Classics, which are now slightly less cool than they were their original one-arm script logo, but still great. I also adore this absurd almost sunglass-goggle hybrid by Nopeet; while my Originals are currently out of stock, “Da Purple” and “Da Timebender” are similar.
This seems like the appropriate place to offer a little tangent on color, and suggest that the paperback edition of The Portrait of a Mirror has not only a certain spring-ski-style vibe, but the very one to which I am most partial. On the ski ensemble vibe spectrum of Darth Vader to Big Bird, I’ve always favored a Goldilocks approach: dark, neutral bases, with flashes of white and radiant color. This is entirely in keeping with the tenor of the paperback! And the Instagram-inspired gradient totally recalls a chromatic lens.
Outerwear & ski clothes
Let’s be honest: I love Patagonia as much as I love making fun of Patagonia. The brand is mentioned twice by name in Portrait with ambiguously satirical undertones. It’s quite the magic trick how they simultaneously conjure perfect association with genuinely rugged outdoors-people and finance bros without regular folks abandoning them for one or the other association. Yes, the quality is good. But I think the overall tone Patagonia strikes of—again—effortless mastery is even more integral to its enduring appeal. And no garment has ever been imbued with this effortless mastery more than my (far and away) most prized Patagucci, the waffle un-dyed cashmere snap-t pullover:
I cannot fathom why this sweater was only produced for one season, quite a few years ago now. Did it require shaving, like, 3-day old goats or something and Patagonia couldn’t justify the environmental impact? Regardless, it’s the single best product they’ve ever made, and if you come across one second-hand, do not waver!
My shell is also a discontinued Patagonia, so I’ll limit my commentary to saying I prefer a true shell, layering warmth as needed underneath. Pants can be tougher to layer, so there I have two options: a super-lightweight old North Face and a heavier Spyder set that’s a more recent addition.
I prefer mittens to gloves, and recommend the kind with a liner and little pocket for HotHands (mine are by Kombi).
The last brand I’ll mention here is Aviator Nation, which I favor for skiwear of the après variety. While some of their products suffer from having one (or more) design element too many, I like many their simpler offerings (“simpler” being very much a relative term here). The Ninja Hoodie & Chevron Sweatpants are particular favorites.
Ok, now go forth and luxuriate adventurously. And don’t forget paperback novels make excellent, lightweight companions for travel—ski and otherwise! I’ll see you on the slopes,
Natasha
https://natashajoukovsky.com