November 17, 2011
Ugh, so we're at that point in the fall when people start giving us dirty looks for wearing flip flops and holding iced coffee. It's just totes not cool to be in summer denial anymore. But rather than cry every morning over her fading tan, a true betch just deals with it, gets a spray tan, gets over the fact that her increasing hunger is just an evolutionary sign of winter and not a red flag that she may be prego, and books a winter getaway or two, courtesy of dad.
The fact is that some betches can't handle being cold no matter what, so they flock to tropical locales like Aruba or Cabo for their winter vacas. Omg, it's totally safe! The Mexican killer-rapists are like bears and my grandma, they hibernate in the winter. But there are some elite betches who choose to escape to the star-studded ski town of the west: Aspen.
This is the winter destination for the betch who doesn't give a shit about being tan. We know this is a weird concept but take a look at Ginnifer Goodwin, judging by her name you'd think her mother thought she was pregnant with a tree or like, a tall Fern or something, but instead she got a decent-looking pale celeb. Anyway, if you can secure a parking spot at Aspen private airport, hit up Aspen Mountain for some quality
ski apres ski time at AJAX Tavern. Moncler or Kjus jackets required for access. If you're not trying to hotbox the ganjola on your ride up, you should at least assume the role as your besties' ski poles holder as they light up.
Aspen is a betchy epicenter for very clear reasons. A pure-bred Aspen betch has been skiing since before she could fit into baby Uggs. She now skis the Highland Bowl and drops a few Ks at Prada after apres. Yeah, who thought people still shop at Prada, maybe it's a western kinda thing. Omg I absolutely just need that Perforated Saffiano for tonights rodeo!
But aside from the fact that skiing is an extremely betchy sport (which we'll explore at a later time), Aspen is a place to see and be seen. Walk out your door and you'll see more fur than animals, worn by women with skin so leathery you'd think it just rubbed off the minks they're always wearing.
Since Aspen's small, you're guaranteed at least one celeb sighting of the Aspen regulars - Paris, Kate and Goldie, Heidi and Seal, Mariah Carey's babies (chillin at Joan Boyce while their daddy Nick Cannon gets carded), blah blah blah. But fuck that, you're more important, betches don't get starstruck, and the papz are flosers.
But winter in Aspen isn't all about relaxing inside your warm mansion on Red Mountain after a day on the slopes. A betch looking for a good time will hit up the Caribou Club until she realizes that the only Pros there could be old enough to play golf with my grandpa over a bottle of age-old scotch, or whatever the fuck old men do. Meanwhile, the sedated betchy moms watch as their husbands try to pick up the 20 year old betches ("Want to come check out my Aston, you can also check out my..ski pole"), while obliviously wondering about more important things like how to get a last-minute res at Cache Cache, or a medical marijuana card without her kids finding out. When Caribou starts to get creepy, which is almost always immediately, retreating to the Little Nell hot tub with your winter break fling should clearly be your next move.
Aspen is a winter paradise for any betch. Even those who can't ski can easily occupy their time between shopping, celeb-stalking, and blacking out. If you're not skiing, you'll do lunch at Mezzaluna and a spa day at The Aspen Club. Though the betches who choose the mountains over the beach may be pasty, they're definitely not fucking jealous. And face it, Vail's lame, and if you're only in Aspen for the X Games, you're probs poor.