Don’t worry, despite lulling you into a false sense of security and Christmas cheer with the title of this blog post, I still promise to engage in my signature, grating commentary on insignificant things that infuriate me. For example, you ever see those fanfiction-blue LED Christmas lights that physically hurt your retinas? How could you not. They are impossible to unsee, like, literally. Try blinking after you look at them. Try blinking after you see them out of the corner of your eye. Try driving after you make a turn and they are unexpectedly in your direct eyeline squeezing the life out of someone’s bushes like an anaconda. They are eternal. They are inescapable. If fanfiction-blue environmentally friendly Christmas LEDs are the only things keeping this planet from boiling alive because of climate change? Fuck this rock! We deserve to burn.

If you’re unfamiliar (please trade lives with me), this is what I’m talking about:

Anyway. I don’t like those. But I do like some holiday decor, and I do watch a lot of interior design YouTube, despite not owning or even renting a single interior space within which I could… design. Because I don’t have a lot of money. And things are expensive. But that is what Pinterest and Google Images and middle-upper class homewares stores like Crate & Barrel and Williams Sonoma are for.

In my head, my perfect holiday decor is traditional, but not cloyingly so. I can handle a bit of cheese, and even sometimes enjoy it, especially around this time of year. For example, I am currently sitting in front of an armchair by the fire, with a cup of hot chocolate and a burning holiday candle and a lit Christmas tree in the vicinity. I am surrounded by my family’s goofy Christmas decor. This is pleasing to me.

Shall we set the scene? We live in a house. Preferably, one with some character. We’re talking medium and dark toned wooden beams and flooring, custom millwork, built-ins, solid foundation, brick fireplace or woodstove, craftsman-esque, solidly made furniture, plaid, quilts, texture, vintage, and warmth. Our normal colour palette is earth tones, greens and browns, along with goldenrod and rust and burgundy. To brighten things up a bit, I will allow a dash of warm-neutral cream tones. There are slight, charming touches of whimsy throughout. Also, this house and I (we) live together on a large swathe of private property encased by woods. Think misanthropic lumberjack.

What a beautiful home. Let’s decorate it. Some ground rules:

As much real greenery as possible (caveat will be discussed later)
NO WORD ART (this is a 24/7/365 rule, not just Christmas)
Handmade (by someone else) is preferred. Mass produced factory junk will be evaluated on an individual basis. DIYs that actually make sense are acceptable.
Common spaces are most important, because this fantasy takes place in a world where I am flush with love and romance and friends and neighbors and community and everyone wants to come to my house during the holidays and share seasons greetings and warm tidings and other assorted text you see in holiday cards.
NO BEADS ! NO GNOMES !
Nothing movie or book themed. No Elf, no Grinch, no Home Alone. You get it.

Let’s outline. The colour pallete of the house is already warm, so we’re off to a good start. With the season, I want to bring in wine reds, forest greens, soft creams, and rich golds. Materials include wood, brass, knits, greenery, wool, and plaid. Tasteful sparkle/glitter is allowed, and in small doses. View my vision boards:

We’re getting a real Christmas tree. No gods no masters no fire codes. We’re keeping it watered and far away from open flames. Our tree is an appropriate size to our space. I once had a fake tree that was thin like a pencil because the terrible apartment I lived in was long and narrow and it was the only tree that would fit. Real Christmas tree also means real Christmas tree smell, and as a longtime candle lover, carcinogens be damned, smells are incredibly important to the overall mood of a space. I get this from my mother. People constantly walk into my parents’ house and comment on how nice it smells. Much like the Big Bang, getting that occasional Christmas whiff right to the face may actually create something (joy) out of nothing (no joy). I want my Christmas tree to be full and bountiful and without flaw, though part of the authenticity of getting a real tree is that real trees, much like me, have a few sparse patches up top. And the thing is, once it’s decorated, it’ll look great no matter what. That’s what I tell myself every time I put on a hat, anyway.

The rustic, homey nostalgia of a pine/fir tree scent is great, but I do love other scents as well. I might even consider one of my main hobbies going to craft fairs or Bath and Body Works and smelling the entire spread, every time, no matter how many times I’ve smelled it before. My preferred Bath and Body Works scents are almost exclusively from their autumn line (Leaves represent!!!) but there are some other winter-y ones in the mix that are nice, including the one, fittingly named, Winter (white woods, pine needles, sparkling clementine and spiced clove). One of the ones with “Christmas” in the name I liked from my most recent sojourn, but for the life of me I can’t remember which one. I’ve gone through my musky phase (yes, I was into Mahogany Teakwood for a while), but if you’re still in yours, I recommend Flannel (fresh bergamot, heriloom mahogany, and soft musk). I also went through a phase where I was obsessed with their eye-wateringly strong Balsam Fir scent.

I buy local as well. I won’t be naming any of the local companies I like just for privacy’s sake, but I will say I have bought some incredible smelling candles from them, accepting the approximately $30 price tag with just the smallest of tears in my eyes. Bath and Body Works candles are almost $30 regular, but I only ever buy them on their half off sales. The local one I most recently burned has notes of blue spruce, precious wood, and, wouldn’t you know it, musk. Basically anything that isn’t overwhelmingly sweet I can get on board with.

You can do more than candles, too. I don’t like artificially sweet smells, but obviously I love the smell of baking. Great news, since that’s a common activity during the holidays (I have gingerbread oatmeal cookies in the oven right now). Or, chuck some meat and potatoes in your slow cooker and let er rip. Sweet, savory, doesn’t really matter as long as it’s actual food.

See also: potpourri… simmer pots, if you don’t mind wasting a bunch of your produce and herbs… pomanders… wax melts… essential oils NOT from an MLM… cinnamon/star anise decorations… there are so many options to make your home smell good during the holidays.

Okay, with scent covered, I also want to chat music before getting into the actual decor. Retail workers are exempt from this paragraph because I think by Christmas most store employees have heard Jingle Bell Rock so many times they’re ready to go postal. Fair enough. Music is important! I am on the record stating my dislike of pretty much all modern Christmas music. I don’t want to hear Justin Bieber or Mariah Carey or Ariana Grande, or whoever else is doing either original Christmas music or pop covers of vintage Christmas songs. Strangely, though, I am neutral on Michael Buble. My mom loves Josh Groban and my dad has a penchant for the Trans Siberian Orchestra, so I guess those get a pass on nostalgia alone. I was actually just thinking today that of all contemporary singers I am aware of (admittedly, not many) that Adele has an incredible voice for Christmas music. I’ll call her up when I have a free minute and suggest it. I’m also a sucker for those “oldies playing in another room” genre of Youtube videos. They have vintage Christmas versions too, and they are very effective nostalgia traps. Obviously, you can play any music if you’re by yourself or having people over during the holidays. But I do think Christmas music evokes a very specific type of warmth in people. As for the people who hate it? Sorry, I guess! Christmas comes but once a year, stay strong. Home for the Holidays by Perry Como is my favorite Christmas song, if your favorite Christmas song can also be the one that makes you cry every time you hear it, no matter your circumstances, including working at the local grocery store as a high schooler and browsing the candle section at Homesense as an adult, which are definitely not embarrassing real-life examples.

Now that we’ve covered smell, sound, and a little bit of touch (texture), let’s actually get to the point. Sight! As for taste, I guess I mentioned I was baking cookies, so we’ll just check that off to complete the sensory bingo.

As mentioned above, plaid is already in the mix. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t add in some more. As the years have worn on, I’ve grown picky with plaid (leftovers from being in Supernatural fandom). The material it’s printed on/made with, yes, but also the granulation of the pattern itself. For example, the plaid on these ornaments is wrong. It doesn’t taste good in my mind-mouth. Plaid shouldn’t be smooth and hard.

The plaid on the ornaments below, though? Even though plaid is technically only a pattern, it really feels like that soft, rustic texture is an integral part of it. I’ve had versions of these ornaments from Walmart in the past, actually. It was a couple bucks per ornament and they worked just fine and if I hadn’t left a huge amount of my belongings behind when I moved earlier this year, I would probably still have them for this Christmas. And I deem this an acceptable DIY, especially when the whole point is that they look rustic, cozy, and handmade (this unleashes an entire new world of the types of ornaments you can DIY, hindered only by your local fabric store’s selection).

Here are some more ornaments I like:

Obviously, this is a large assortment, many of them statement ornaments, not all of them stylistically compatible, so I would not put them all on the same tree. One of the things I’ve found as I’ve delved deeper into my own personal design style is that the number of things I think are cool/nice/pretty/lovely is much, much larger than the number of things I would want in my own home, even on an unlimited budget. The textural variation in a lot of those ornaments is very fun. Even if I don’t like velvet on its own, I can appreciate its contribution to an overall Christmas tree landscape. The last photo, you’ll notice, is retro-style gift tags. Those were included because before I found the set of tiny ornaments I decided on for my own little tree, I was considering buying some nice hanging gift tags and using those as ornaments instead. They’re cheap and can be easily reinforced by sticking them onto cardboard, boxboard, whatever. The ones pictured are retro-style, which I feel like I’ve largely grown out of as a design motif, but, as established, I’m not above a bit of holiday cheese when the situation calls for it. There are some really sleek modern gift tags as well if that’s more your style.

Speaking of my own little tree…

You might be thinking, that’s a pretty ugly (and fake) tree for someone who’s talking a big game about “good” holiday decor and real greenery. To that, I say… yes. But also, my promised caveat:

I bought this ugly little tree from Michael’s during the 2015 holiday season, the majority of which I spent alone and sad (and overheated, the heating was busted and I woke up on Christmas morning to a blazing hot apartment). This ugly little tree has outlasted university degrees, relationships, and even personalities. Every year I pull this miniature fire hazard out of storage and plop it down somewhere in my current residence. Every year, it’s a little worse for wear. Originally, I furnished it with cheap ornaments from Walmart. In fact, I think that frosted white one with the holly branches is an OG Walmart. The other two, though, (including the blue one in the bottom right that I didn’t get a close up of) were given to me by my mom. Would I have chosen them for myself? No. Do they mean a lot to me anyway? Yes. My mom and I don’t have a ton of overlap in our design preferences, but during the holidays especially, I find that matters very little. I still troll her a little (seeing the word art NOEL sign from the back and asking why she owns a LEON sign). But the sentimentality and the nostalgia of the season outweigh the design sensibilities. That blue ornament? Totally throws off my preferred colour scheme. To that, I say… TOO BAD. It goes on the tree anyway. I do draw the line at the text printed on the back of those ornaments, though, which is why those sides are facing in.

Here are some Christmas linens, blankets, & pillows I like. Note that some of these do not evoke Christmas directly. A lot of the broader decor is meant to be season-specific as opposed to holiday-specific, because then you have multipurpose items instead of, say, a blanket you can only use for four weeks out of the year. I mean, you could use a nutcracker print blanket in May. No one is going to stop you. But it’s not a life choice I would make for myself. Seasons and their associated decor—having the inside of your home reflect and respect the state of the natural world outside of your home— are meaningful to me, and I like the feeling of alignment and cohesiveness and serenity that comes along with it. This would be the perfect time to admit I’m into grounding. Could you imagine. Actually, don’t.

The Santa pillow is mine. I got it from Homesense last Christmas, and if you’re in Canada and like them, they have them back this year. It took me weeks to pull the trigger on that purchase. Who knew this much headspace as an adult could be taken up by internal discussions on how much Santa paraphernalia you’re willing to have in your house (and if you’re willing to pay $34.99 for it…).

Regarding the red/white woodsy tablecloth: during the rest of the year, I’m not a huge fan of Scandinavian design— it’s a little too sparse/minimalistic/neutral for my tastes. But come Christmas, I do often find myself drawn to the woodland-esque vibe of Scandinavian holiday decor, though I don’t want to take the motif too far— as stated, I love the outdoors and forests therein, but I can’t recreate one in my home better than the real thing, so why try? Just a few touches are nice. Alignment and cohesiveness, not mimicry.

I am a self-proclaimed mughead. I love mugs, but I am also extremely picky about which mugs I allow a place of honour in my cupboard. I currently own 3.5 mugs. Two of my mugs are anytime mugs. The third is a Christmas mug I got from Value Village, but the handle is too small. You know when the handle is too small and it drives you batty? I want Christmas mugs. The pickings this year, at least as they pertain to my taste, have been SLIM. Between Rae Dunn and Hello Kitty and the Grinch and Disney I cannot catch a fucking break and find a nice seasonal mug, and I have been looking.

Now is probably a good time to mention that I rarely shop online. I can’t speak for other Canadians, but online shopping here is rough. Shipping (even domestically) takes forever and it’s expensive as hell. I can almost never justify the expense for whatever junk it is I want to buy. Plus, I like being able to go and see things in person. I like being able to touch it, because texture is a big thing for me, and online sellers love to lie or mislead about their products. But if I’m going to be spending my hard earned money on something, I want to ensure it’s something that is pleasing to both my eyes and my hands. And my nose, if it smells. And my mouth, if it’s edible. And I guess my ears, if it makes noise, but that doesn’t come up much in the decor world. And I would prefer it’s good quality, but, well, you do what you can and you can afford what you can afford.

All that to say, I know there are more options online. I am simply unlikely to pursue them. I also go to local craft fairs a lot, so I keep my eyes peeled there, too. The difference there is handmade things are expensive (understandable) so I have to be very picky about what comes home with me. And in terms of mugs, convenience is also incredibly important. Unless it’s the most beautiful mug in the world, if it can’t go in the dishwasher, I don’t want it. If it’s uncomfortable to hold, I don’t want it. Same with glassware. I Will Not Hand Wash This. I’ll hand wash cookware if I must. But everything else can go to hell where it belongs (dishwasher).

Also of note: “shaped” mugs are not my thing. It always feels like the drink inside is going to spill everywhere. Also, if it’s like, a head shaped mug? I don’t want to feel like I’m drinking out of someone’s skull… or like… a tree… I also tend to reject mugs where the wraparound print ends at the handle. It looks cheap and machine-made. Then again, I don’t like when mass produced mugs/glassware/servingware tries to look handmade, either. So I guess I’m just impossible to please.

Here are the Christmas mugs I own. Note the print ending at the handle on the floral one. It was 2 bucks at Value Village, okay? Give me a break. The blue one is my favorite winter mug from childhood. I stole it (hence the .5 of 3.5) when I moved for university and now that I’m back, so is the mug. Domestic jetsetter, that one.

And, some mugs I like (including glassware and servingware, because, as stated, the mug landscape of 2024 is bleak):

And where would you be without some cute Christmas doormats? What, you want your guests to think you’re an ANIMAL who doesn’t wipe her feet?!

Would you like to see some Christmas decor that I think is bad? Just kidding. I know you do.

It looked just like that in the Wayfair listing, btw. I didn’t stretch it for comedic effect. It was also, like, $60 or something. I’m dying to know what actually shows up if you were to order it, because there were a ton of mugs like that, all stretched out and overpriced, from the same vendor.

If it’s cutesy cell-shaded art that looks like you made it on your Cricut I don’t like it. Those cups also kind of suck because they don’t hold much liquid, right?! And they’re glass so they’re going to condensate like crazy, which double sucks if it’s winter-themed and you keep having to grab the cold wet glass when you’re already cold. Also if they’re dishwasher friendly I’ll eat my hat.

Self-proclaimed Grinch? I wish you the best, keep that attitude away from me. Also, I don’t like “mean” decor in general. I don’t like when decor tells you to fuck off or that you don’t give a fuck or you think everyone around you is dumb. Also, Grinch-specific, isn’t the moral of the story that he actually becomes a nice, uh, Grinch by the end?! Didn’t his heart grow three sizes?!

And not that it matters at this point, but for the sake of graphic design, at least have the middle finger stand in for the I. “Merry ficking Christmas.” Come on, man. It was right there.

That white table runner is included because it’s sherpa. SHERPA. ON THE DINING TABLE. over my dead body.

I don’t like bottle brush trees. The texture is bad. They’re also just dinky looking.

Do I need to explain why those deer are terrifying? Modern art or the monster in The Ritual?

Scary folk art Santa gets a caveat— not because I don’t think he’s scary, but because folk art like this always makes me a little uneasy but like, in a way I like. Would I have this in my home? God no. But I appreciate folk art in general. For example, I love Johanna Parker despite the fact that very little of her work makes sense with my design style.

The minimalist smooth Christmas trees look like sex toys. I don’t enjoy that. These aren’t even the worst offenders.

Things that have initials on them: why? Do you not know your own name? I am unsure why this seems to be more of a trend amongst women than men, unless you’re my dad, who owns a mug with his first initial on it. I suppose I never drink out of it, so maybe there’s a use-case for an initial mug. Maybe I have such an outsized hatred of personalization because of how flooded Etsy is with low-effort personalized everything. Do you really need your name laser engraved into a cutting board? A picture frame? A necklace? A “chocolate hazelnut spread” jar label?

The plaid pitcher is another example of why “hard” plaid is bad. But also, there’s something that looks so unfinished about that specific pitcher— I think because the outline/inside is white. Did you forget to put the pattern on the rest?

The thing about a shaped pillow—especially one as shaped as that snowflake— is that it doesn’t function as a pillow anymore. I do not like when something functional, like a pillow, is manufactured in such a way that it looses that function. That would take the place of an actual pillow that you could lean against! Is it just me?! I imagine leaning against that and shudder. It’s not like it’s sharp, except for the fact that it is. Unrelated to Christmas decor, but I feel the same way about spherical pillows. I hate those things.

Santa at the beach is a no from me. Remember what I said earlier about honouring the world outside with your interior design? This is the opposite of that. This is a level of fun and whimsy and quirkiness I cannot abide. If you’re in the southern hemisphere and celebrate Christmas? OK, maybe this makes sense for you. If the Australians want board shorts Santa, they can keep him.

Back to good stuff. Well, one good stuff. Christmas lights should be warm white. I will also allow green-and-white, red-and-green, or red-and-white alternating lights, like so:

Scratch that, I couldn’t find any pictures I liked. You’ll just have to use your imagination, or come see that one house in my neighbourhood that apparently had the only string of good red-and-green alternating lights in the world. By this point, I doubt it will surprise you that my preferred outdoor Christmas set-up is traditional; greenery, red/burgundy bows, warm white lights. You really don’t need to go crazy outside. Candles in the window are also very good. All red makes you look Satanic. All green (especially the neon green you usually get with exterior lights) doesn’t evoke the spirit of the season at all. And if you own these monstrosities? That are on every third house for some godforsaken reason?

You’re dead to me. “They’re LED and environmentally friendly!” Please. I don’t want to hear it, but you know who does? The 12ft tall inflatable Minion in a Santa hat in your front yard. I’m sure the preservation of the earth’s resources is top of his mind as hydro pumps him full of air for six-eight hours every night before you go to sleep.

At the end of the day, I think a lot of my design and decor preferences stem from that image, actually. Um, not the Minion in a Santa hat, but a warm candle in the window, beckoning you in from the cold. It’s a straight line to so much of what I love about writing, too. The catharsis of a long journey undertaken, well-ended in a chair by the fire.

… Well, it makes sense to ME.

The above are kind of the bits and bobs I had leftover from the, frankly, HOURS I spent sourcing images for this blog post. However, you may be like, why do those last three pictures look kind of washed out and sad? That’s because they’re mine, lol. No, I didn’t choose the world’s most boring paint colour, it was like that when I got there. Anyway, I think my various and underwhelming personal pictures and decor scattered throughout this post is a really good reminder that what I save on my pinterest boards is not at all equivalent to what my real life looks like. Those red truck lights, sitting right on my windowsill, kill me because they are SO ugly. But at the same time, I got caught up in the Red Christmas Truck phenomenon a few years ago, and that’s the result. And they’re fun and cute. So like, whatever.

Something that occurred to me while writing this post is that I have probably contradicted myself multiple times. I say I like or don’t like something, and I’m sure, scroll down a bit, and you’ll see me claiming the exact opposite. I’ve found that sometimes, with interior design, I like something because I like it or I don’t because I don’t. As in, you can’t always explain what moves the spirit. My tolerance for a certain type of cheesy decor may be higher than the next for no reason beyond: It Just Is. (For example: I said no word art EVER. Yet, how many times have I drunk coffee out of a mug yelling JOY at me already this holiday season? Granted, I don’t own the mug, but still.)

I love looking at the shiny baubles and the new, goofy ways people come up with to depict Santa. Most of it is ugly, mass produced shit, but to me, that’s kind of the fun in all shopping— finding the diamond in the rough. Sorting through the ugliest, tackiest decor you’ve ever seen at Homesense, only to find the one good thing they’ve managed to source this year. Or the one nice piece you allow yourself to splurge on at the department store. It can be an overwhelming prospect, and sometimes I do get existentially angst-ridden by the amount of STUFF that exists in this world (the one and only time I went to an At Home store in America I feel like I walked out with a mild case of shell shock). But, that comes with the territory. I thrift a lot, too. At the same time, I rarely buy anything. I’m very picky, and no one is allowed to buy me home decor because I probably won’t like it, or I’ll be annoyed I didn’t get the chance to pick something out myself.

Christmas is the one time of year I try to stow the cynicism and the pessimism and just enjoy things. Most of my recent Christmases have been spent in a self-proclaimed Grinch environment, with ironic trees and disdain toward local holiday events and a proliferation of Amazon shopping, which was always difficult for me, as it implies losers like me are sheep-brained morons for getting into the spirit of the holiday. But the thing is, like with most things, Christmas is what you make it. Tapping into the warm nostalgia of holiday decorations and cooking and baking and gift giving (as someone who enjoys shopping for others) is intrinsic to my enjoyment of the season. The time and thought I put into sourcing gifts for the people in my life is basically the only avenue I have of expressing my feelings for them. I was far from a perfect partner, but you can bet I showed up when it came to gift-giving occasions. It’s not about the money, is the thing. I never bought anyone the most expensive anything, but I did do my best to source gifts that would bring people joy, or make their life easier, or more fun.

It has not been a good year for me, and I have not been able to show up in the same way I have in years previous. So, in a way, writing this goofy little blog post has helped buoy my spirits. If nothing else, you can always brute force some holiday cheer by looking at overly curated pictures on Pinterest and spending days sourcing pictures of ornaments you think are pretty. It’s not a gift, per se, and I am not showing any person affection by writing this. However, I have carved out a little semi-private nook where I can exercise my care and enjoyment of the season in a way that brings me joy, and maybe the few people who read this some as well.

At the same time, I feel strangely melancholy about it all. There is something incredibly lonely about curating My Perfect Christmas in a digital snowglobe as opposed to embracing the authentic spirit of the season. As I so often am, I feel torn. Even when I was young, though, I felt this way. The day itself was nothing compared to the anticipation. When I was eagerly awaiting Christmas, anything could happen. When it was Christmas, well, then it was just Christmas again. Just another day. I have always been searching for a way to wrap my arms around every possibility at once. I have always been searching for a way to hold everything at once, and let nothing slip through my fingers. I have always been searching for wholeness, and contentment, and arghhhh catharsis, it always comes back to catharsis! No wonder it’s all I write about. Such a cruel aspect of human nature, to only want what we can never have. To only want it because we can never have it! Because as long as I don’t have it, it will be perfect! But the moment it leaves the realm of possibility, and enters the realm of reality, then it’s just reality, and reality is imperfect! Waghhhhh

Maybe the true takeaway from this exercise is that perfection is a curse and catharsis is unattainable and life is not meant to be anything, and instead simply is. That is, meaningless and inexorable and nothing more.

And with those warm words of comfort, I wish you a joyful Christmas, whatever that looks like for you. Even if that includes hugging your personalized blue LED lights and sherpa snowflake pillows and plaid red trucks just a little closer tonight because someone on the internet was mean about them.

Merry ficking Christmas, everyone!

let’s all take a load off and decorate for christmas

new year’s reservations

editing novel 2