#gstaad

[valentin10]

Gstaad, ATP 250, Finale : Stefanos Tsitsipas - Raphaël Collignon en direct

https://www.lequipe.fr/Tennis/gstaad/epreuve-simple-messieurs/annee-2026/match-direct/stefanos-tsitsipas-raphael-collignon-live/441497

[the-correspondence]

Gstaad

Christie’s, Modern Art Auction.

Not because I need another Warhol; I hate Warhol—but because absence would be suspicious.

Mylène’s beside me in a Ralph Rucci silk double-faced crepe gown from 2011, whispering commentary that sounds like desire but is appraisal.

Lot 17: a Francis Bacon triptych—private provenance, rumored to have been hung in a Mayfair flat where two ambassadors and an actress once overdosed on the same night.

The bidding starts low, then climbs in violent little increments. I raise my paddle once, twice, then stop—not because I can’t pay, but because I won’t pay that.

Across the room, a man I don’t know but already despise, untucked Loro Piana linen, smiles faintly as he doubles my last bid. Just enough to make it sting. The auctioneer’s gavel falls like a verdict. Applause, polite but pointed, washes over the room.

.

.

I was never going to own it.

.

My role is to raise the temperature, thin the herd. When it’s done, someone else will win the Bacon, and I’ll be the reason they overpaid for the privilege.

That’s the only civilized way to attend an auction.

Winning is vulgar.

The true sport is manipulation. Turning the room into a fever and then stepping back before the sweat turns cold. You don’t buy at that level; you engineer the buying. You identify the ornamental heir with something to prove, and you make him prove it in public, with a gavel and applause.

The painting is his. The victory is yours.

.

.

Mylène leans in, still looking at the triptych.

“Do you ever regret letting them have it?”

“No,” I say, taking her glass without asking.

“I don’t need another frame.”

I glance across the room at the man now shaking hands over his purchase.

I’m almost certain I’ve seen him before.

Ski chalet in Gstaad.

He was standing too close to the French girl—Vanessa? Vivienne?—with the long braid.

Six months later, they pulled something from the ice near the river bend—small, pale, and not immediately identified.

I never saw him again.

[romanbymarta]

Roman Polanski and Victor Lownes in Gstaad, on a break from filming "Macbeth". Lownes tells Polanski that the studio is worried the film will go over budget. Polanski replies joking, though he is afraid that he could be taken off the film.

[jettywhispers]

forgot my camera on the plane so phone photos will have to do... i've also realised that i literally have not posted any pictures that weren't taken by a phone... so much for trying to use the camera more

oh well! the latest news in my life is that I am on the same vicious cycle I have been on for the past decade

normally, I am not a huge cheese fan (severely mild lactose intolerance, and a small dislike for the sharpness of it), but a fondue pot picnic here always cures me of my ailment

then, i go away and regain my hatred of cheese

other than the cheese problem, i really have no interesting tidbits about this place. it's pretty, i guess

[howbizarrebizarre]

chapter 3 posted! 💦🥵

gstaad on ao3

[huariqueje]

Gstaad - Johanna Catharina Antoinetta (Jo) Koster  , n/d.

Dutch  1869 - 1944

Inkt, krijt, potlood en aquarel op papier

[glebsky]

Wintering in Gstaad

Maybe I should go to Gstaad for the winter holidays this year. You can have a lot of fun in Gstaad in winter. I'd meet Polanski on a Gstaad path, and maybe even Yulia Andryus. I'd share these Gstaad evenings with them. We'd all go to the cafeteria at the same time and sit with random people. I'd eat Gstaad stewed meat soup, and in the evening, after the movie, I'd eat Gstaad yogurt. I'd have Gstaad-style affairs on benches. I'd dance to the accordion on Saturdays. I miss Gstaad.

[pretty-little-fools]