I have three words for everyone who currently has Christmas decorations up right now:
LET. FALL. BREATHE.
On Nov. 1, it was a cool 80 degrees in the great desert of St. George, and I had my car air conditioning blasting as I parked in front of my apartment and saw that my neighbors already had a fully decorated Christmas tree glittering in the window.
I was sweating as I climbed out of the car and stared at it for a moment. Less than 24 hours before that, I was dressed up in full Halloween makeup as a scare actor in a haunted house, enjoying the spooky holiday.
Even though Halloween has passed and Mariah Carey has officially defrosted from her year-long slumber, we need to pump the brakes on the Christmas train.
Before you get your pitchforks and torches, just hear me out.
October through December are my favorite months of the year because of the cozy decorations and cool weather. I have chronic childhood nostalgia related to this time of year, but there are certain bounds that each holiday needs to exist within. The jump from spooky season to Christmas is way too abrupt, and Thanksgiving and November as a whole are the perfect interlude.
The autumn aesthetic is my favorite of all time; every year, I LIVE for the changing leaves, cool weather, cardigans and pumpkin patches. While I love Halloween, these few weeks after it, when I can fully enjoy the fall vibe without the spooky season looming ahead, are some of the best of the year.
In my household, my mom usually takes down the Halloween decorations while trick-or-treaters are still knocking on the door, and she leaves the nondescript fall decorations up for the majority of November. We would let fall breathe, and have its time in the sun — literally. I’m from Las Vegas, where it’s still 80 degrees in November.
We’d usually decorate for Christmas a few days before traveling for Thanksgiving so we could come home and be in the full Christmas swing. While my stance is borne of nostalgia, there’s also a logical stance to take: boundaries.
Christmas is special because the season is only around for a month of the year. One of Disney’s Christmas movies, titled “Mickey’s Once Upon a Christmas,” features Huey, Dewey and Louie as they become trapped in an endless loop where they continuously wake up on Christmas morning. They get sick of the holiday as they repeat the day over and over, and it loses its special meaning.
While that’s an extreme example, the sentiment applies. To me, Christmas means more when it’s tucked into a smaller space on the calendar, and I enjoy it because of that. Those few days leading up to Thanksgiving are the most exciting because it’s a “warm-up” for Christmas.
Once the Thanksgiving turkey is gone and I’m passed out from eating my body weight in mashed potatoes and pie, I’ll wake up happily ready to rock around the Christmas tree, as the iconic Brenda Lee once sang.
