Thinking out lound: Winter painting, colour analysis and monogram

Dear reader,

The Hunters in the Snow (1565) by Pieter Bruegel

I'm captivated by Pieter Bruegel’s The Hunters in the Snow. At a distance, it’s peaceful: tiny figures, soft snow, the muted hum of a village. But when looking closer and learning about the artist and the time it was painted, it opens it up more. Details tucked into corners, stories layered beneath the frost. A reminder, perhaps, that the holidays invite us to pay attention and to let the surface be an invitation rather than a conclusion.

On a much more frivolous note (though no less absorbing), I’ve been deep in the world of colour analysis lately. Not fully converted, however, I'm still convinced that the colours you naturally reach for are likely the ones that suit you best. But there is something undeniably fun about holding tiny swatches up to your face and pretending you’re discovering a hidden truth about yourself.

Speaking of discoveries, I’ve become utterly enchanted by the tea I brought home from Copenhagen earlier this autumn. It’s a white Christmas blend from Perch, a tea house that has been around since the 1800s. I’ve made it my afternoon ritual, something warm to anchor the darkness of winter.

And lately, I want my initials on everything. Two of my friends gifted me not just the shirt, but the experience: choosing the fabric, the cut, the sleeves. A bespoke piece I know I’ll cherish for decades.

Winter has a way of nudging us toward small pleasures and gentle obsessions. May yours be just as warming.