Hotel Jerome, an elegant lodge listed in the National Register of Historic Places, has long doubled as a makeshift workroom for genius. The prolific Bauhaus designer Herbert Bayer, who remodeled the property in the 1940s, created the hotel’s Aspen-leaf stationary. Outlaw author Hunter S. Thompson was such a regular at the hotel's J-Bar that the bar became known as the “campaign headquarters” for his failed 1970 run for Aspen’s sheriff. When Thompson died in 2005, the hotel’s Victorian-era Grand Ballroom hosted the first of the writer’s two funerals, drawing the likes of Bill Murray, John Cusack, and Benicio Del Toro.
To this list of Hotel Jerome’s maverick guests you can now add the trio of creative minds at Hermès: Véronique Nichanian, the artistic director of the label’s Men's Universe; Christophe Goineau, creative director of men's silks; and Axel de Beaufort, creative director of the bespoke workshop Ateliers Horizons. Last week, the French designers hosted 52 guests — a hodgepodge of tattooed artists, James Beard winners, Olympic gold medalists, rising actors and podcast provocateurs — for a two-day creative retreat in the snow-packed mountains of Aspen. The occasion? To have fun. No, seriously.
“We are here to have fun. There is no obligation,” said Nichanian, a quietly legendary figure who has overseen the label’s men’s offerings for 35 years, which gives her the distinction of being the longest-standing creative director in the industry. Seated on an overstuffed banquette in the hotel’s lobby, she was flanked by her menswear co-pilots, Goineau and de Beaufort. Her face lit up as she explained the label’s serious approach to thinking unseriously, whether it’s adding “a tang of oxymoron” to the men’s winter 2023 runway show (including putting 90s-era wallet chains on baggy leather pants) or silk-cashmere scarves depicting futuristic robo-horses galloping in outer space. “We don’t have rules to work together,” Nichanian added amusedly. “What I think is very interesting at Hermès is to mix tradition, modernity, and innovation. And for me, modernity is the way everybody is living and feeling.”
Goineau nodded his head. “We are not a house of revolution, but a house of evolution,” he explained. “Like writing a book, you have to change the characters with each new chapter.”
At the recent Aspen event, characters included guests like Olympic snowboard champion Chloe Kim; painter and former professional soccer player Demit Omphroy, filmmaker and photographer Gordon von Steiner, who recently received a Grammy nomination for directing Troye Sivan’s “Rush” music video; and food writer Alison Roman.
Aspen was treated as a winter playground, literally. One day was devoted to an immersive scavenger hunt through Kevin Costner’s sprawling 160-acre Dunbar Ranch, complete with an oversize metal puzzle of an equestrian horse print, models dressed in homemade sasquatch costumes made out of dozens of Hermès ties, and plenty of hot toddy stations to refuel. Mornings were spent on Aspen’s best ski runs and snowshoeing trails; afternoons saw taking in skijoring, a mystifying winter-sport spectacle involving skiers being dragged behind horses over jumps. De Beaufort, who oversees the made-to-order creation of everything from handbags to helicopters (think of his Horizons department as the Hermès version of Santa’s Workshop), said the picturesque location and cross-section of personalities and professions was meant to spark pleasure for pleasure’s sake. “The journey is part of the game,” he said. “We’re not pressed.”
On the evening’s second night, a towering glass atrium had been assembled atop one of the many snow-covered hills of Costner’s serene estate, which, with its endless babbling brookes and sweeping mountain views, is really more of a private national park. Inside, Francis Mallmann, the Argentine chef and restaurateur known for his fire-obsessed cuisine, presented tables with “infiernillo” salt-crusted wild salmon and charred cabbage. Forgoing a microphone for the blazing authority of his own voice, Mallmann told the crowd that between being rational or romance, one must always “choose romance.”
As an army of handsome waiters served plates of “shovel burnt” grilled pancakes with dulce de leche for dessert, the Ecuadorian-American musician Roberto Carlos Lange, better known by his stage name Helado Negro, took the stage. With a mop of perfectly-coiffed curls atop his head, he breezily swayed his hips through an upbeat set of mellow disco and featherlight funk. Everyone jumped to their feet on a makeshift dance floor now overtaking the room, including James Harris and Lawrence Schlossman, the dapper pair of self-described “grown dirtbags” behind the gonzo sartorial podcast “Throwing Fits;” Nichanian and other members of the Hermès team; the Brazilian interior designer Andre Mellone; and artist Devin N. Morris.
Outside, snow began to gently fall over the large fire pits and towering Birch trees illuminated by NASA-grade lights. De Beaufort stayed warm in a duffle coat in natural sheepskin, which he accessorized with a bandage wrapped over his hand. It was due to a home cooking accident involving a knife, he said, though everyone already knew at this point – fun fosters conversation, and both were had. “How has everyone here already heard this story?” he joked. Standing in front of an open flame, he surveyed the melting pot of invitees. “It’s a real luxury to have the time to be around so many different types,” he said. The light snowfall and dark expanse of Colorado’s starry night sky offered a striking, intimate window to the slowly-expanding Hermès Men’s Universe, nary an obligation in sight.
