Now that Halloween is over, Christmas is just around the corner, and we all know what that means: a lot of people are getting really psyched about decorating.
And hey, if you're psyched, that's wicked. And I get it! I love Christmas, I think it's fun, I've already had a gingerbread latte today (I'm a monster), and I have no regrets (about anything, but especially anything holiday-centric). But look: there is no way to do Christmas "wrong." Christmas is a holiday. It's a tacky holiday if we're being honest, and that — plus eating shortbread for breakfast — is part of its appeal. We put trees in our homes, wrap boxes, place them underneath, and pretend none of it is a very weird thing to do.
It is a very weird thing to do. But I live for that shit.
On the flipside, I do not live for this trendy-ass holiday nonsense. I mean, hello: do not shame me for having outdated decor. Do not guilt me into investing in a "focal piece" when there is, as mentioned, a giant tree in my house. Considering holiday decorations exist for a few weeks once every year, technically, every year is more outdated than the last. Then, after a decade or so, my once-"tacky" felt Santa centerpiece is goddamn vintage, and now I'm on track to being hip for the least hip social event of the calendar. (We hang socks in front of a fireplace, people. At Christmas, none of us are cool.)
Which is my problem with these trendy Christmases. These themes. These codes. "Our theme this year is pink!" I heard somebody say on the TV once. And hey, if that's your bag, grab it and mosey down the chimney and erupt into a ball of Christmas cheer, because you're doing you, and I live for that shit too. But why do I need a theme? Why, out of anything in the world to buy, would I buy things to support a holiday theme? Isn't the theme "Christmas"? And isn't Christmas what I see in Christmas Vacation every year? (Yes. It is. There's your answer.)
Maybe you have a different answer for that. Maybe you love themes. Maybe this is what you were raised on, or what you weren't raised on, and are now making up for lost time in a flurry of tinsil and colours and tin things. If that is the case, namaste. Go forth. Be brave. Live, laugh, love. (And other inspirational quotes people hang in and around their homes.) But to designate a hot and/or not for the holidays is obscene. Especially since — as I look at my family's Christmas tree covered in everything from '70s ornaments to weird drawings I made for my parents as a kid — the holidays are just so embarrassing. But in a good way! Like being drunk at a family reunion or the time you started yelling at your Uncle during a Rummoli game because YOU WEREN'T CHEATING THE CARDS WERE JUST STUCK TOGETHER.
So that's my problem: regardless of your religion or beliefs or anything that doesn't have to do with red Starbucks cups and fake trees with garland from your grandparents' house, you can't force a hip and/or trendy (or even fashionable) agenda on the holidays and expect others to fall in line. Half the decor is centered around a man in a red velvet suit who breaks into our houses at night. The rest is either "snow" or "trees." These are not the hills on which to die in the name of "cool" or the next thing we need to gussy up. Or at the very least, these are the things most of us are fine with, and if you want to make them fancy and cool for yourself, you go ahead.
The rest of us, however, will be working on the decoration-equivalent of eating whipped cream directly from the can like you're supposed to do at Christmas. And when I say "the decoration-equivalent" I mean "eating whipped cream directly from the can without spilling any on the furniture."
Keep the change, you filthy animals.