There are moments when the soul craves silence — a break from the sirens, the subway rush, the buzzing energy that never lets New York sleep. I found myself mentally drifting somewhere far from the concrete… somewhere colder, quieter, softer.
I kept picturing a week in the French Alps — sunrise brushing over powdered mountains, pine trees standing still like guardians of the valley, and water so clear it mirrors the sky. A place where time slows down. Where breath feels fuller. Where your mind finally whispers instead of shouts.
For a moment, I wanted to vanish into that scene — to trade streetlights for starlight, city echoes for mountain air. But the truth is, as much as I dream of escaping, the craziness of New York is the very thing that fuels me. It’s the chaos I complain about, yet cling to. It’s what shapes me. It’s what keeps me here.
This hoodie was born in that escape that SKI trip get away