A couple of weeks ago, when I went to make myself my morning coffee, I was greeted by a surprise. It was still dark outside and there were bright lights aggressively flashing from the block of flats opposite me. Was I still dreaming? Had there been an accident?
A quick peek out the window revealed the source: the lights were wrapped around a white plastic Christmas tree – the sort that looked like it would take roughly a million years to decompose at landfill. The LED bulbs were reflecting off the white tree, creating a big garish polar-inspired beacon.
This is a sight that I imagine might bring some people displeasure – and not just because this tree was up in mid-November. There seems to be a snobbery attached to Christmas decor, and trees in particular, at this time of year.
It’s a visual philosophy that brands things like tinsel or bright lighting as tacky and uncouth. Every year, articles about “How to ensure your Christmas tree is classy, NOT trashy” appear online. (“Investing in a skirt” for the base of the tree is the way to go, apparently, which sounds vaguely unhinged.)
There is a classism at play when it comes to being judgemental about Christmas decor. I’m not saying I’m not prone to snobbery myself. (Britain is a nation obsessed with social class and, particularly as a middle-class person, it’s unlikely I’ve escaped that entirely.)
Growing up, I apparently used to ban tinsel from the tree – probably because I was impressionable and someone I thought was cool said they hated it. Still, as an adult, I think Christmas should be an armistice for this type of joyless judgement.
Growing up, my mum used to describe things as “camp as Christmas.” It’s a phrase I didn’t understand back then, in my tinsel-hating era, but now totally do. Christmas is one of the only times of year when we are permitted to deviate from conventional ideas of taste. When so-called “low art” – corny music, ugly Christmas jumpers, problematic rom-coms, tacky decor – reigns supreme. This campy subversion has a clear sense of irony to it and, most importantly: it’s fun! Why would we want to give that up?
I’m not surprised that there is a British instinct to look down on over-the-top Christmas decorations. When something is fun and accessible, there is an urge to assume it must be terrible and classless. (Remember the shrieks of anguish when Mrs Brown’s Boys won a fan-voted National Television Award? Or when The Only Way is Essex beat Downton Abbey at the Baftas?)
Christmas decor is similarly accessible. You don’t have to go to Liberty to buy something festive – and that’s a good thing. Real Housewives of New York City star Sai De Silva recently opened up about growing up in poverty. Her father would buy a tiny Christmas tree from the “dollar store” and pile presents around it. There must be many people in that position this Christmas, because 2023 has been a rough year.
When I go to the supermarket, I see basic items like butter and baby formula security tagged, sometimes behind sinister perspex boxes. We’re in the season of sky-high heating costs, which seems like the new normal. Christmas is already stressful (and expensive) enough, so I find it hard to look down on cheap and cheerful decor that, even if it’s not to my taste, brings people – especially children – a sense of festive cheer and belonging.
This Christmas, I will be trying hard to suppress the British urge to judge other people based on thousands of subtle class signifiers that are totally made up and stupid. Accusing someone of being “tacky” at Christmas is about as ridiculous as shaming someone for being too scary (or scantily clad) on Halloween.
Tackiness is as innate to Christmas as pigs in blankets, Mariah Carey, arguments with family, or unwanted gifts. ‘Tis the season of more-is-more. So go all out – even if that means blinding your neighbours with bright white lights. Trust me, they’ll get over it.