My entrance into skiing was common. My parents put me on skis at age three, and I’ve been skiing ever since. As I grew older, teenage distractions could have pulled me away from the towering peaks of the Midwest, but one thing kept me coming—hormones.

Forget the ski area’s new chairlift or fancy base lodge. I was in it for the fantasy shown to me by the media and ski area marketers. I was in it for vice.

Vice—the little devil standing on your shoulder telling you about all the things you shouldn’t do, but just might. In the ’70s and ’80s it seemed like vice was everywhere in ski. One sight of a tight sweater and lycra ski pants could make someone melt. Fondue at the condo always led to rolling around on a bear skin rug.

Vice also ran rampant in the early days of snowboarding. I watched Shawn Palmer slam a beer before his U.S. Open run. And, seemingly every snowboard video (I owned dozens) consisted of guys partying, wrestling in their underwear and snowboarding during the credits.

As an impressionable young lad, how could you blame my perception? I moved to Squaw Valley because “Hot Dog...The Movie” promised impossibly good wet t-shirt contests. Yet, I found that these types of parties are far less common than I was led to believe (damn you, Hollywood!)

Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll make a completely anecdotal assertion: There is less vice in marketing now than ever. I’ve got no proof, just a feeling that there are fewer portrayals of sexy ski instructors named Sven. Fewer one-piece ski suits. Fewer snow bunnies in leg casts sitting next to the fireplace.


WHERE DID VICE GO?
Alex Moser, director of marketing at Seven Springs, Pa., has strong feelings about vice in marketing. Moser says, “Vice is used infinitely less. It’s a sign of the times. In 1975, people didn’t know what the term politically correct meant. Our culture is much cleaner.” He’s right.

The ski business was exploding in the 1970s. Dozens of ski resorts were opening every year. The dream of flamboyant parties and exotic lives seemed like a promise waiting for anyone brave enough to don zinc oxide. And Seven Springs had its culture firmly entrenched in vice. “It was a place to have a real good time. Alcohol-based fun. The resort was in bad shape aesthetically and brand-wise,” says Moser. Since 2006, the resort is under new ownership. Management has worked to knock the vice out of the resort and attract a new generation of sliders. Today, the resort’s marketing is heavily focused on families, and the safety and security that follow. Moser says, “Families love us. It’s friendly. It’s safe.”

He also knows that a change in brand communication means pushback. “Nostalgia is so powerful,” says Moser. “Some customers reminisce about the free-for-all it was. Times have changed for them and us. Still, we find some liked the old brand.”

So, the question is: “Does vice sell or repel?” Lisa Gosselin, former executive editor of Ski Magazine and current editorial director and editor-in-chief at Eating Well Magazine says, “Think of Club Med and Las Vegas. Vice was selling at that time. America has changed. Right now, the focus is on wellness. Think about the growth of spas at ski resorts. That’s not anecdotal.”

She continues, “Think about the growth of yoga. There is a huge shift in America away from gluttony. It’s not that Americans don’t party any more. That’s just not the focus.”

Nowadays, mountain resorts and equipment manufacturers are selling athleticism, scenery and the lifelong pursuit of the good life. Countless marketers (myself included) have thought about using more vice in our communications, but stayed away. It feels like we are whistling as we walk past the cemetery—it’s there, we want to say something, but good judgment and fear keep us quiet.

“You can get blitzed anywhere. You can go to a concert anywhere. But there is a high you can get only from skiing. These are great places where people are finding rejuvenation,” says Gosselin.


WHAT ABOUT SEX?
Outside of the shift from ’70s touchy-feely funfests to 21st-century wholesome political correctness, marketers should be wary of vice messages for other reasons. Cleavage-smooshing ads are short-sighted if you want to simultaneously market to women and families. Sexy models might appeal to some, but these pictures read like stock photography to most core skiers. Advertising guru David Ogilvy says, in his classic Ogilvy On Advertising, “Ads with pictures of babies, beagles and bosoms. This is a mistake.

A buyer of flexible pipe for offshore oil rigs is more interested in pipe than anything else in the world. So play it straight.”

Is there room for vice in marketing? Are customers interested in T&A (in advertising that is)? Tait Wardlaw, former VP of brands and communications for Rossignol, Lange and Dynastar, says, “Sex still sells,” but not the same way. He should know. He was the brand evangelist of the Alpine man cave staple—the Lange Girl. Ask anyone about vice in ski marketing and they’ll mention the Lange Girl posters. Yet, even the Lange Girl took a hiatus for several years.

Wardlaw says, “There is much greater sensitivity to political correctness. She [the Lange Girl] had been a vice and an institution. Our company started to get focused on product and execution, and she became an afterthought.”

He continues, “Things like Lange Girls and guys chugging beer, they aren’t as relevant or instantly motivating to our target audience. Our customers have a much more accessible means to find what equipment is right for them. It’s great to have a presence for your brand, like the Lange Girl, but at the end of the day, there’s less time and resources available for things like that. People are sophisticated enough to make a decision based on more than a Lange Girl.”

Like bell-bottoms and mustaches, though, some cultural items make comebacks. The Lange Girl returned several years ago with a modern look. Wardlaw explains, “The Lange Girl had been a model, of some form, for years and years. We wanted the Lange Girl to be more relevant and be sensitive to political correctness. We reintroduced Lange Girl as a skier and a local. She was sexy, but a real skier, and it was a good step.”

In current form, the Lange Girl is more clothed and more honest. She’s less of a beer model and more of a ski town hero. Sure, Lange got some negative reactions from patrons. But, Lange is pushing the limits, testing the edges, and was rewarded with brand penetration in every ski shop in sight.

Wardlaw states, “As the ski business gets healthier than it was a few years ago, you’ll naturally see a pendulum shift back to something more social and fun. It’s something you may see more of in the future.”


WHERE VICE LIVES ON
Wardlaw’s hunch is coming to life at Heavenly Mountain Resort, Calif. With big-time casinos, night clubs and all the vice Nevada offers, South Lake Tahoe is not your typical ski town. “We feel that is what makes Heavenly unique to all resorts on the planet. Instead of fighting it, we’ve decided to embrace it,” says Jon Wagnon, VP of marketing and sales at the resort.

In a flash of pure marketing gold, Wagnon’s team decided to transform a sleepy day lodge into a full-on disco in the evenings, complete with a DJ and dancing socialites. The weekly event is called Unbuckle.

Wagnon describes the scene: “At 2:30 p.m. it’s a beautiful on-mountain day lodge. Iron chandeliers, carpet, furniture, and food court. At 3:30, we transform one side into a night club. Big scrim comes down in front of the windows, with a DJ stand, lighting, go-go dancer platforms and a sound system that can blow the windows out. We turn it from a day lodge to a Vegas-style dance club.”

If you haven’t been there, don’t envision a “breastaurant.” This isn’t Coyote Ugly. There are hundreds of people dancing, and many are children and families. Wagnon says, “It’s very tasteful. It’s got the energy and fun, but not too far.” And, it’s a whole new revenue stream. In past years, this lodge would be filled with the sounds of the custodial staffs’ vacuums. Now, the sounds of clanking glasses and cash registers have the resort’s bean counters smiling.


IS THERE A BALANCE?
So the big question for marketers now is: Is there still room for vice in marketing? And, how do you balance vice and stewardship for your brand?

Danielle Kristmanson, principal and creative director at Origin Design and Communication (www.origindesign.ca), also notices the general lack of vice messages in the industry. She thinks vice can be a good strategy when targeting the male segment, but Kristmanson warns of the liability. “It could be tricky, like when you are selling sex, drugs and … a snowboard,” she says, adding, “There is still an appetite for it. We all went through it.”

Then most of us grew out of it. As Kristmanson says, “It became harder to take in when I became a parent. We get uncomfortable when we hear it. It challenges our values and almost makes us hypocrites.” She adds, “It is a no-no outside of the youth segments—it gets old real fast to the older group.”

Therein lies the crux. The ski business grew up. Vice got dusty. Our customers got older. But, we still need to attract new blood. Our business shows images of huge terrain park features and chest-deep powder—both of which are mostly unattainable for many of our customers. Additionally, utilization drops off when people are in their mid-20s to mid-40s. Instead of showing untouchable images of cliff drops and kickers, what if we marketed more vice to that 21-plus crowd? Would it keep more of them in the sport? Would it make us more believable? Is it worth the risk?

Great marketers wake up afraid. We are afraid of not hitting numbers. Afraid of repelling potential guests with the wrong message. Afraid of angry homeowners. Those fears keep us from doing great work. Other fears help us get out-front and amaze. We fear uninteresting campaigns. We fear sad results from not taking risks. We fear recycling the same BS from last season.

There are lots of reasons to be afraid of using vice in marketing. You can alienate customers. You can come off antiquated and down-market. If used with a heavy hand, vice can make your marketing look like drunken smut.

Yet, with finesse, a marketer can use vice to uncover the taboo, give a wink and help lead customers astray (in a good way.) The goal of using vice isn’t to lure our customers into sin. The purpose is to guide them away from a traditional option, like a beach vacation, the mall or the television.

If you can hold your brand loosely, and can simultaneously protect it, using vice might be a great tactic in your marketing. If you can’t, that’s okay. Just put in some ear plugs, because that little devil never stops whispering in your ear.

Author Brad Larsen can be reached on social media at @bradlarsen00 or via e-mail at blarsen@sugarloaf.com.