The pursuit of active luxury
Escada Sport. Words that don't sit well together, like Rocky and IV. Who even wears Escada anymore, apart from the odd European noblewoman? I'm all for this concept of "active luxury" (which I guess means something about summers in St Tropez and winters in Aspen) but I thought most boots were pretty self-explanatory.
If anything the label should be on this pair so you don't exactly try to shove your feet into your pet chow chow instead.
This season's collection is another confusing morass of colours, fur and sometimes fabric aimed at the "Daddy buy me a pony which I can carry under my arm like a Fendi baguette" set. For example, I find nothing sporty about a woman in a neck cast. Look, her traumatic sports injury has even caused her to lose basic wardrobe coordination skills.
Perhaps this handbag doubles as earmuffs to be worn while hunting animals to make more earmuffs.
I think I saw a European art film like this once. It ended on a positive note with the Swedish lesbian cowgirl sisters reclaiming their family ranch and throwing an apres-ski orgy to celebrate.
www.escadasport.com - go on and check out how the other half live.
Another blog to visit: Adventures of the pocket boy lunchbox - knowing life isn't perfect is no reason not to pretend it is