Sorry, but if you’re not skiing all day long you don’t deserve to celebrate après style.
Updated May 6, 2026 02:03PM
Earlier this year, I was invited to an après-ski–themed party in Midtown Manhattan. Something about that irked me. It was the spirit of it that didn’t sit well. I felt like the selling point was devoid of hitting a small local mountain a few hours outside the city and partying afterward; rather, it was about channeling the aesthetic.
Après means “after.” Après-ski means after skiing. So your après-themed party is after what…a trip on the train?
Then, a few weeks later, I went to Banff with some friends—some new and some old. We saved up for a nice week away to enjoy the slopes. The last day at Lake Louise was perfect. The conditions were something to marvel at, which this season was a rare find. Toward the tail end of the day, my group lapped the Glacier Express—the chair closest to the base, adjacent to an outdoor bar and patio — until the lifties wouldn’t let us anymore.
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There’s something blissful about the moment when you’ve just missed the last chair, albeit disappointing and annoying. The ski racks in sight are filled with snow-covered skis and boards, boots are unbuckled, and you head to the patio. There’s a DJ playing, your friends have a table, two are eating lodge food with little to no nutritional value, and everyone has a cocktail or beer in hand. For me, likely a Negroni or hot toddy.
Then you exchange stories of triumph and defeat, including the intense yet satisfying mogul run you conquered for the first time since a knee injury three years ago (that was me), the one who found some undiscovered, untouched powder off-piste, the embarrassingly gnarly, and very public, wipeout (that one was also me), and the newer skier who leveled up from green to blue.

Those camaraderie-driven moments are what make skiing (and riding) so special for so many of us. Après-ski is a reward and a chance to swap stories, not a theme party in an insufferable bar that’s nowhere near a mountain.
That’s why I think après-ski should be for skiers (and our snowboarder friends, obviously) and yes, fine, the friends who came along for the ride. There are always exceptions. But what we’re seeing is a phenomenon where people travel to mountain towns just for après, as if the slopes are incidental or even optional, which, in my view, undermines the experience of those who go to the mountain for the love of the sport.
Emboldened on the pages of Vogue, which recently offered outfit inspiration for the slopes “even if you don’t ski,” designers are now producing ski-adjacent collections—clothes that gesture toward alpine utility without ever intending to encounter a chairlift.
Events at Mammoth Mountain, like its DJ series or John Summit’s “Experts Only” festival, are attracting the performative après crowd, making crowded lift lines look like child’s play by comparison.
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Combined with the continually surging cost of either the Epic or Ikon Pass, it is making the skiing and, frankly, the après experience increasingly unpleasant.
But I get it, resorts have to do what they have to do. Climate change is shortening seasons, especially for resorts in the American Rockies. These events help them stay fun and afloat when conditions are less than desirable.
But if you’re a patron, consider your role. There’s a subtle but important consequence to this growing slate of festivals and high-fashion-centric write-ups. When après becomes a destination in its own right, it changes who resorts are for and ultimately who they’re priced for.
It’s no longer the local or the person who saved and skimped for a ski weekend with family or friends as a reward for hard work, but rather those who can drop tens of thousands of dollars without a second thought. As a journalist who covers the cost of living, it’s a dynamic I’m particularly aware of, keen and sensitive to.
Après-ski without skiing feels off. It still exists, technically, and it might even be fun. But it’s missing the thing that gives it meaning. So yes, go for the drinks and dance on the tables. But at least, at some point, click into a pair of skis and earn the moment.


