Insights By Barbara Beem Here I was, thinking I had every detail of my vintage-inspired Christmas celebration worked out. And then I happened to read Back to the Red and White Christmas of Childhood. Wait a minute: aren’t we supposed to be dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the ones we used to know? Let me back up here. I’ve been waiting all year for December. I love Christmas. I know I’m not alone in this one, and I can’t help thinking that those of us who have an appreciation for old things are particularly enthusiastic about this time of year. The love of beautiful treasures and a respect for tradition make the secular celebration of this religious holiday even more special for me, as well as for those who think and feel as I do. There’s one new addition to my accumulation of All Things Christmas about which I’m particularly enthused this year. This is the first year we actually own a copy of Bing Crosby’s White Christmas, my hands-down Yuletide favorite, on a 78 record. More than in years past, I can’t get the song out of my head. Conveniently, we just happen to have a working Victrola in the dining room. I love Christmas songs, but not year round. Only in December. Thoughts of snow and sleigh rides just aren’t right when my spring allergies are running amok. And wouldn’t you know it, last April, Ken’s buddy at work (who happens to be a long-time subscriber to AntiqueWeek, I might add) found Der Bingle’s boxed Christmas set in the trash heap at a country auction. Don knew I was looking for White Christmas and generously made the donation to our collection of 78s. For months, I have anticipated the snaps and crackles, skips and pops that will accompany my favorite holiday song, but I have shown great restraint and held off playing this seasonal classic. But the time is now at hand. So this is what I’ve been waiting for: I’ve had this little pre-Christmas scenario all worked out in my mind. Crosby will be crooning and I’ll be trimming the tree in our living room (artificial because of our allergies, white because it’s cool) with the vintage sherbet-colored Shiny-Brites I’ve picked up over the years at flea markets. White Christmas, indeed. Except for the little silver aluminum tree from the ’50s I trim and display on the dining room server. (At $3, it’s still Ken’s best yard sale find, in my mind). OK, maybe a White Christmas, with a little bit of silver, trimmed in pinks, purples, and a splash of blue. And then I find this old copy of The American Home. I’m a sucker for vintage magazines, and the December 1933 issue was particularly appealing, its cover adorned by a simplistic nativity scene on a brocade background. Originally 10 cents, I picked it up for $3 on a recent antiquing foray and couldn’t wait to get it home. I eagerly opened it to see what was happening when my Mom was a little girl, when our house was still pretty new. "A Dickens Christmas dinner." Hmmm, that could be timeless, and our daughter loves Dickens, so she’ll probably want to see this. "Happy endings for hearty meals." I’ve had a bit too many of them lately, but a gal can dream. And then the kicker, a fairly extensive essay by a Marni Davis Wood. She begins, "There have been blue Christmases, silver and green ones, silver and white ones, gold and blue. Everything but sky-blue-pink has been used for Christmas, each one proclaimed more sophisticated or what not." Then she gets to the heart of her argument: "I for one, am all for a return to the good old red and white Christmas of our childhood." Good heavens, she’s probably talking turn-of-the-century here, or possibly earlier. Christmas trees in the home were still a relatively recent development at that point, if I’m not mistaken, and she’s probably thinking candles, not electric lights. She disdainfully calls silver and blue decorations "swank," a word I didn’t even know existed before Dean Martin was on the scene. She pooh-poohs families who are always on diets. And she heartily condemns those who spend more than they ought to on gifts, this at a time when gift cards weren’t the quick and easy way to please everyone on your list. What really intrigues me about this article, though, is the fact that she is railing against the very things about Christmas that we still find distasteful. The over-commercialism of the holiday really gets to her, as she thinks nostalgically about the holidays of her own youth. I can’t help but wonder what she’d think of my Christmas vision. I must admit that I rather like her spunky tone (I sort of wish I had written something like that). But it is rather disconcerting that my idea of a mid-century style Christmas is something that would be distained by ’30s sensibilities. As Marni longs for the red and white holiday of her younger years, I’m dreaming of a White Christmas because that’s the way I remember them when I was a little girl. And while I can’t argue with her desire for a house "with a Christmas soul," I’m just not ready to go back to paper chains on the tree and huge wreaths tied with red oilcloth bows. |