I realized as I left my house this morning that my Christmas decorations say a lot about me. Then I thought that Christmas decorations, in general, must be a pretty accurate reflection of the decorator. They represent your tastes - good and bad, your creativity and resourcefulness, your willingness to pay for something fleeting and superfluous, and your spatial reasoning skills. Christmastime gives us so much, including, as of today, the opportunity for a foolproof personality assessment. Keep reading to find out what these totally-normal-and-not-ridiculous holiday trimmings say about the people who have them decking their halls (that would be me).
An over-the-top wreath that is too large for your door and also hung on the door with a bent wire clothes hanger:
To top it off you tried to hide the fact that you made your own wreath infrastructure but just bending a wire clothes hanger by tying a golden bow around it. No one will ever notice. Some people would call the wire clothes hanger "resourceful." Others would call it "cheap and tacky." You choose.
Meaning: You have an innate sense of gaudiness that cannot be constrained by the size of your house nor budget. People are in awe of how your Department 56 Christmas Village grows in size each year even though you are still using your in-laws' basement to store your seasonal decorations (thanks, guys). While few suggest that you have "good taste," many are keenly aware of the fact that you go hard - or you go home.
This wreath, like last year's wreath, came from Bartram's Garden's winter fundraiser. In Queer Martha's world is more important to support your local historic sites than it is to buy an appropriately-sized wreath, right?
A flower box with dead poinsettias and a rosemary tree:
Meaning: You have fantastic intentions. No one can reproach you for your boundless enthusiasm. Your execution, however, leaves something to be desired. "Poinsettias aren't supposed to be outside," they said. "The are indoor plants," they said. Well who's laughing now? They are. They are laughing at your dead poinsettias. Your giant black thumb does not help. You will kill everything you will ever plant. Accept that and invest in some interesting-looking driftwood to make your flower box scream "eccentric" instead of "sad."
Please take note of the Christmas Village in the window behind the flower box. I might put the touch of death on all plants I interact with, but dammit if my wee city isn't a merry little urban utopia.
Also, those poinsettias looked damn good before they shriveled up and died:
I realize that one of them is already dead in this photo. I just don't know what to do with plants. But, again, my Christmas village looks like a perfect place to raise a family, doesn't it?
A Christmas tree that literally takes up an entire third of your first floor:
Having a proper Christmas tree is certainly more important than having furniture on which to sit and enjoy the Christmas tree. Rachel and I just sat on the floor to eat dinner last night. Dinner was also a poptart. Don't judge me - it was a raspberry poptart.
Meaning: You are a sucker for tradition, and you believe that there is a "right" way to do things. The "right" way is not always compatible with the reality on the ground - for example, you might set up a standard-sized tree in your nonstandard-sized living/dining room and still host a dinner party at which your guests are rubbing elbows with branches - but you will take great joy in upholding your vision of what is right and good. You will pass on a deep sense of rootedness to your children (or your children will quickly decide that you are crazy and they will only buy tabletop trees for their eventual families).
Guys, I spend a lot of time thinking about solutions to the furniture conundrum. If we are actually able to afford living room furniture by next Christmas... how will we arrange the room for the holidays? It's already worrying me.
There you have it - a Christmas decoration personality assessment. What does yours say about you?