As you might recall, I’m now a self proclaimed fashion blogger.
When I first saw the Julbo Vermont Classics, I was all “THOSE. I want them.” They’re associated with Vermont, and they represent the vintage authenticity I and every other millennial searches for, but there was something else about them. Something that drew me to them, made me see past their leather bounding and obscure design and want to wear them…everywhere.
At first, I thought that they fit into the Lennon-esque festival style. You know, the one for which all Instagram filters were designed. I envisioned myself with knotted hair, dangly earrings and a floppy hat, hula hooping with the other vagabonds in my Classics. A day at Wanderlust with them brought me many compliments, but it didn’t satisfy the elusive niche .
Although they certainly would fit into the post-apocalyptic desert scene at Burning Man, I don’t. So, I put away my layered skirt and kept looking.
A few weeks later, I accompanied my biologist boyfriend to the lab. Glimpsing at the white coats and test tubes, I envisioned the Classics resting on the ears of a scientist, working away in the depths of his labor-atory (read with Dexter’s German accent). The ear-gonomic curved temple tips would keep the goggles from meeting chemicals, the dark lenses from burning the eyes in bright light reactions.
However, the vision seemed mad, even a little frightening. Perhaps in some other life I would use the Julbos in the lab, but not this one.
One day, later in the summer, my unnervingly cool teammate, Andy, rode up on his antique motorcycle. Andy’s the kind of guy who uses the word “wicked.” He surfs and skateboards, and almost never wears a shirt. He also Nordic skis and rides a motorcycle, on which, he wears a black turtle helmet and leather jacket. “It’s perfect,” I thought. With their opaque lenses, leather detail and uncommon design, the Vermont Classics are the thing you pull off when no one else can. They’re cool. They’re just, real, man.
Unfortunately, I exude little cool in the seat of a motorcycle.
Another option, high fashion, stood before me. Capes, stilettos, slicked back hair, Vermont Classics. But let’s be real, my mom thinks I walk like a a cowboy, I wasn’t built for a runway. Here’s a photo from New York Fashion week, just to make my point (I repeat FASHION BLOGGER):
All of these looks have their place in the Vermont Classics world (other than the mad scientist, that one can go). But, clearly, none of them are mine. Then I looked at what the Classics are made for: the backcountry. High altitude, where the sun reflects off every surface and precipice, where gloves and poles and equipment demand both hands. “Oh,” I thought, “Skiing. That sounds about right.”
I haven’t been skiing with the classics yet this season (because, October), but I’m thinking that might be my look. I’ll let you know how it goes.
So, what about you? Where would your Classics take you?