I think it was something to do with being born in the hard winter of ’63 and all that snow…
Then, when I was about 10 years old, my Dad – carpenter extraordinaire - made me a pair of skis out of some off-cuts of plywood. Well, if sledging was so much fun then skiing, I thought, must be absolutely brilliant. I was thrilled. But we had no idea how to fix them to my feet. There was some talk about nailing the leather straps from my roller skates onto them but that would’ve been the end of the roller skates - and my two little sisters would have just about killed me. But it’s just as well we never did attempt to do it - without proper quick-release bindings, I would have probably broken both legs.
Funnily enough, Sheffield now has a whole ‘Ski Village’ complete with ‘Alpine’ chalet. I would’ve so loved that but by the time it was built I’d already left the city. Now I live in deepest, darkest Devon - but I am lucky enough to spend a couple of months each year in the Alps. So I’ve finally learnt how to ski – and, similar to those my Dad made me all those years ago, my skis are actually made with a wooden core.
The actual sport of skiing proved more of a challenge than I thought, but I did fall in love with the stunning mountain scenery and the countless combinations of cheese & potatoes that accompany it. And then I discovered some fabulous old posters in a little shop in nearby Briançon. That started a love affair with all things ‘vintage ski’ and then sparked the idea for a website - a place where I could indulge my love of retro style and create a web feast of glistening snowcapped mountains, jolly holidaymakers & questionable knitwear… So here it is and I hope you enjoy it too.