Slipped on The Sunsetter glasses and immediately felt like I’d time-traveled back to the golden age of après-ski. When mullets flowed, neon ruled, and “stretch pants” meant business.
The moment I put them on, Wham!’s “Club Tropicana” started playing in my head and suddenly I was walking through the lodge in slow motion, ski boots clomping like a hero entering the final act of an ‘80s ski movie. The bartender didn’t even ask for my order, he just handed me a hot toddy and nodded respectfully.
Out on the slopes, the sunset hit the mirrored lenses just right, turning me into a glowing beacon of pure retro confidence. I swear a ski patrol guy saluted as I carved past him in full send mode. Visibility? Perfect. Style points? Off the chart. Ego? Astronomical.
