Cyprus Mail 16 November 2020 - by Alix Norman
Last Tuesday I was taking a morning stroll round my neighbourhood when I saw a sight that stopped me in my tracks. Here I was on a pleasantly cool autumn morning, walking the same route as always, when all of a sudden I came across a Christmas tree!
Not, you understand, in the road. No, this was a fully-decorated tree (shiny scarlet baubles, gold bows, glittering star) standing in the window of a previously unremarkable house. A house which, only yesterday, had been utterly indistinguishable from countless other suburban homes. And what made this sight particularly strange was the date: November 3.
My thoughts tumbled. ‘This isn’t possible. It’s not right. My grandmother must be turning in her grave!’ Closely followed by ‘but corona has made 2020 so horrid, and this makes me happy’. And by the time I got home, I was daring to think the sacrilegious: ‘Could I, too, prematurely illuminate?’
For years, I’ve put up my Christmas decorations at the start of December. This, according to William Hanson, Britain’s divisive (and self-styled) ‘etiquette expert’, places me firmly in the ranks of the middle class. Posh people, he suggests, decorate no earlier than December 17 – a date which is also recommended by the Church of England. But that only allows us just over a week of sparkly happiness before the 25th – hardly enough time to appreciate the glory of a fully-loaded tree and a twinkling wreath or two.
Many cultures deny themselves even longer: in Germany, the traditional unveiling of der Tannenbaum occurs on Christmas Eve; the same goes for Slovenia and Poland. In Scandinavia, they’re a bit more lenient: the first day of advent sees Swedes hanging paper stars in their windows, and in Finland the jätkänkynttilä (a sort of standing fire log) is lit at the start of December.
But then, on the flip side, we get America – where people are less concerned with being upper class, and more worried about how many plastic reindeer fit on the roof. It’s the other extreme, and Christmas begins even before Thanksgiving is over. My sister, who lives in the Alaskan town of North Pole (Google it. It’s real!) tells me the public Xmas decs have been up since October (all the lampposts become candy canes – either frivolously festive or terribly tacky; you decide!), and that many private houses already boast light-up snowmen and hanging Santas.
The British high streets have been following in America’s footsteps for a while now, going full-on sparkle from the start of the month. Oxford Street had its lighting ceremony on November 2 this year. Even the tiny tea shops in little Cotswolds villages – usually the last bastion of tradition – have lit their windows.
Usually, this phenomenon is driven by the economy – the earlier we start thinking about Christmas, the more we’re likely to spend. But in 2020, it’s clearly Covid-19 that’s driving our need for all things shiny and bright. In a year that has been the bane of mankind, we could all use a bit more joy. And what better to warm our poor corona-ed cockles than a surfeit of pre-seasonal sparkle?
Jumbo (citadel of Christmas, and all round glitter fest) filled its aisles with trees and tinsel from early October, cannily predicting an early start to the season. And a quick straw poll reveals the toy emporium got it right. My neighbours are not the only household to jump the gun…
“We have two kids under the age of 10,” says Margarita, “and because of corona, all their afternoon activities have been cancelled: ballet, football club, piano… Of course they still go to school, come home, do their homework. But then it’s just one long drag till bedtime. So we spent the first few weeks of November making decorations and putting them up. If I see another paper snowflake, I’m going to scream, but at least it’s keeping the kids busy and happy!”
Costas’ family also decorated early in November, and came up with a clever pretext. “We told our girls that Santa has to keep his distance this year, so he’s going to start his rounds sooner than usual to be sure he can safely cover the whole world before December 25. And then we showed them a letter from Santa saying that we, too, are allowed to start our Christmas earlier. The girls seemed to accept this,” he laughs, “and it gives us a great excuse to bring some seasonal cheer into the house.”
But it’s not only families with kids who are plumping for that pre-seasonal lift. “All my relatives are in the UK,” says Mallory, who lives alone, “and there’s no way I’m going to fly back this year. So to cheer myself up, I’ve started Christmas early. First it was the twinkle lights in the window, then the wreath on the door. And I’ve bought myself a little tree which I’ll be decorating this week. It’s not much, but it does cheer me up on the long, dark evenings when I’m stuck at home alone.”
As for me? Well, corona has put the kibosh on so many little happinesses this year that I’ve decided to copy my neighbours. If their tree could light up an otherwise unremarkable Tuesday morning, then I reckon my full-on seasonal display is pure public duty. I’ll be decking the halls (lounge, dining room, and den) from November this year. Because I need a bit more joy in my life. What about you?
