Asiago is beautiful, by the way.
|Asiago Hike with Visitors|
He told me about how much his six year old has progressed with skiing this season and then he spilled the laundry list of people he saw there, specifically the kiddos from school who took ski lessons from the same instructor as his son . . . Emma, Camilla, Mattia, yadda, yadda, yadda. He then provided details of the fashion show put on by the women each day. He told me of one woman in particular who he saw three consecutive days with three different furs.Three. Three, with coordinating boots for each. For some reason he fixated on the three furs and continued for some time about this anonymous woman hanging out at the slopes in jet set Asiago.
When I lost interest in the details of the furs my eyes wandered, and I noticed his very rodeo-like shiny silver Prada belt buckle, his slightly scuffed Gucci loafers, his tasteful golden necklace barely peeking out from his still-immaculately pressed fitted shirt, and the key to his brand new Mercedes SUV ever-so-casually dangling from his perfectly fitting designer jeans. His navy Moncler jacket was carelessly tossed on the chair next to us. He was so perfectly fluid in his style, casual and fluid. He wore the designers like he was born to do so . . . not at all like an imposter.
I wondered if he had any idea that just as he had the need to share the story of the woman with the furs with me, that I woud feel the need to share the story of him with you.