Frolicking around in the Snow...

Greetings to you all! Here to post, and hoping it will cheer me up after a freezing cold day accompanied by headache and swelling in the jaw area. Yippee for me.
Anyway, though I am feeling utterly miserable and am experiencing a good many symptoms of fatigue, I am posting these photos which I took yesterday.

What was my aim for this outfit? Well, I wanted to show the contrast between the whitness of the snow and the darkness of the coat as well as showing off my gorgeous cloche hat, "Chic, no?" and gloves... also, to some extent, giving me a good reason to go outside when any sane person would be happy looking at the snow, sitting on the sofa and drinking a cup of hot chocolate. Honestly something I should have done.

The Snow that never drifts —
The transient, fragrant snow
That comes a single time a Year
Is softly driving now —

So thorough in the Tree
At night beneath the star
That it was February's Foot
Experience would swear —

Like Winter as a Face
We stern and former knew
Repaired of all but Loneliness
By Nature's Alibi —

Were every storm so spice
The Value could not be —
We buy with contrast — Pang is good
As near as memory —

Ignore the fact that the video says 'Richard Burton' instead of 'Richard Harris'. Minor mistakes in the editing are worth it for the sake of superior quality. Anyway, I hope you enjoy because this scene does sort of mention snow and I wanted to share it. The music is beautiful - as is Vanessa Redgrave - and Richard Harris presents it so wonderfully. Sadly, this is a new discovery of mine. Camelot is not one of the musicals my Mother bred me on during my childhood.
On a last note for this video, do you not think Vanessa Redgrave's facial expressions are simply perfect?

Here are a couple of vintage pieces. A Vogue Cover of which I do not know the date (if you know, do not hesitate to comment) and a French Advert for the Mont Blanc.

I tied these in because they sort of went well with the theme I had set by wearing my cloche hat. I simply adore cloche hats, and I love the sophistication they give an outfit.

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;

They crown'd him long ago

On a throne of rock, in a robe of clouds,

With a diadem of snow.

Thank you for reading! I would love to write more, but I have pledged solemnly to attempt to tidy my room, and my throat is hurting terribly again... and my sister is shouting because a poor little mouse, probably very hungry, has nibbled at her dress. I understand where she is coming from but, to be honest, it was not a very nice dress to begin with. Too tight. Too short. It did not flatter her figure and I think the mouse might have done her a service.

Please comment and do follow if you like!

Oh, and the poems are by Emily Dickinson and Lord Byron respectively.