Thursday, January 5, 2017

St. Moritz

To our dear admirers,


The beginning of January can be such a cold, unforgiving time for the less fortunate.  They have no money in their bank accounts after the excesses of holiday gifts; some even found a break-up waiting under the Christmas tree instead of a passionate kiss beneath a mistletoe.  The skies are gray, the trees are bare, and the fun and freedom of summer seems like a figment of the imagination.  Anyone who can bear the luxury of it makes an escape to one of the great ski resorts of the world, like St. Moritz in Switzerland.  Even DL, with plenty of warm padding around her body to keep her snug inside her fuzzy baby blue cowl neck sweater and fleece leggings with LL Bean duck boots on her cankled feet, feels lonelier than usual creeping near the lodge fireplace. 


But do the Feathers feel despair at the cold clasp of deep winter?  Lovelies, never!  The two most desired snowbirds are the girls every tall, dark, and handsome man wants to give a Swiss Kiss.  G looks ready for the slopes in a cobalt down snowsuit, charcoal crocheted Ugg slippers on her feet revealing the truth that her winter fashion is destined for the indoor sports.  H is clearly prepared for a fireside cuddle of her own, dressed in a clingy alpaca wool poncho with the glistening skin of her bare shoulders peeking out, black leather joggers on her svelte legs.  The black onyx crystal sandals on her feet, showing off her perfectly pedicured golden toenails, prove that this lady is keeping nice and warm.


As the snow falls outside we sink deeply into suede couches covered with gorgeous fur throws, nibbling on French bread toasts and breadsticks dipped into fondue that's fragrant with parsley, wine, and onion and decadent with three types of Swiss cheese combined in a delicate blend.  DL returns from spiking her third cup of hot chocolate with a generous pour of fluffed marshmallow flavored vodka and takes her seat for the evening at a desolate table for one... which collapses under her elbows when she leans forward to blow the steam off her mug of cocoa.  G and H sip champagne from crystal flutes and nibble chocolate covered cherries, their rosy cheeks full with gleeful peals of laughter.


xx & oo,
The Feathers