Off surfing again this weekend. This means natty hoodies, baggy tracksuit bottoms, mismatched bikinis, ridonculous booties, bruising, seaweed hair, sunburnt hands, runny noses, panda eyes, hangovers, carbs and most importantly, an inherited surfboard. A board that is slightly chipped, imprinted with dead flies and layered in sand and sexwax. Surfing the Irish Way. So imagine my shock and horror when I spotted this trend. A Chanel Surboard. Chanel, as in Coco, as in logomania, as in squillons of squids, as in serious luxury industry. Making surfboards. Surely this is wrong?
Who needs to surf when you can just hold a board and wear heels?
Once again, not with the surfing, just with the posing
36 hours of styling to produce this nonchalant, filthy-rich, surfer chick
So as I was spazzing out in paroxysms of disbelief, I meandered through the actual Chanel site and look what other must-have items I found. No slope, park, sea, gym or pitch is complete without a set of smug interlinking C’s it would seem. Chanel have catered for every eventuality with snowboards, boules sets, picnic baskets, yoga mats, tennis rackets, basketballs and golf clubs. Keeping up with the Jones’s has never been easier.
you don't sweat with these babies, only glow
what the french team use in training sessions
surely the preserve of james bond escapades?
