“Bond, Frank Bond”

Movies have spoilt me terribly when it comes to women. I think that the Bond films and their various snow bunnies and double-agents actually made me start skiing. I remember in “The Spy Who Loved Me” and Bibi Dahl’s red cowgirl ski outfit and I knew that I wanted to find more girls like her. Easier said than done but I’m constantly checking out the ski holidays France has, and going. The fact that I don’t have to break the bank is a major bonus.

There’s just something about ladies in ski apparel, with their innate show of sportiness. When women wander around the nearby village after taking a run they exude some subtle confidence that’s incredibly appealing. And even if they never ski or are lousy skiers they could simply walk around in the outfits and that’s good enough for me. The femme fatales with the hooded faux fur coats are my favourites, for sure. With eyes sparkling from happiness and the cold.

I see one brunette in particular and our eyes meet as we each order hot toddies. And when I smile and shes smiles back it’s as if the camera starts rolling and Bond will be around any second to introduce me. She’s incredibly impressed by the company I keep, though she really only has eyes for me.

The fact that James would doubtless steal her away instead of play wingman doesn’t come in to play in my Alpine vision. This is my story, get your own girl, James.