Last week was magical. We don’t often have a snowfall quite like this, where big fat snowflakes flutter from heavy clouds to rest gently on the one before it, individually as delicate as a butterfly wing but together finding strength. Our local parks and green spaces were transformed into our own little Narnia, a parallel world where we half-hoped to see Mr Tumnus emerging from snow-covered trees.
It’s the daydreamer in me, I know, but I can’t help it – this wonderous, icing sugar-coated world conjures up images of romance for me, of beautiful dresses and coats fit for a snow queen. I see pastel hues and frosty metallics, I see chiffon and tulle and crystals. I see an entire series of images (moving and still) of these clothes. But, of course, it’s all a dream – in reality we are mere mortals who would soon freeze. So instead we turn to woollens, denim, puffers, and hiking boots, and that’s fine with me – it’s good to dream, but it’s equally as good to stay grounded because, soon enough, this snow-carpeted ground is replaced by something far less romantic. Slush.
I’m wearing: Coat, Zara (last year, here’s a similar one; jumper, GAP; jeans, Next (no longer available but here’s a similar pair; mitts and scarf, a gift; hat, H&M (no longer online but here’s a similar one; boots, UGG (new version online).
Location: Broughty Ferry.
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