This post is an eggbox. Part of a mini-series within basic-ly to document and capture things in sixes.
Someone is always awake very early in this house. So today, after the cat had been fed (TWO sachets to maintain the physique, jesus) I wrote this eggbox edition:
My Six Favourite Christmas Tree Decorations On My Own Tree
🎄
/1 This Scruffy Owl
I’ll start as I don’t mean to go on with a chunky backstory. I bought this owl from the V&A in London on a work trip. We were launching a Fashion project there later in the evening, and somehow I had time to trawl the giftshop.
He is symbolic, as you will find out.
The event was co-launched with a proper name in the industry. It was the first time as an organisation that we had been involved in Fashion, and having this person onboard was v.exciting.
I’d done the graphics for the event, as well as a small intro video, and knew all the cues for when our founder and the big-bod should speak — so I was invited to sit on the ““FROW”” with them both.
This was not a fashion show at all, which is why I’ve added double quotation marks.
As the event began, I watched the guests arriving. It was a Thursday in London, and everyone looked immaculate. Heels, updos, sweeping winter coats and scarves, woollen trousers, etc.
I guess maybe I was just padding out the stereotype of an out-of-the-city “graphics girl”, but I was in Puma Creepers, slouchy light-grey trousers and a white henley from Zara.
:)
When it was almost time for the launch, I bustled to my spot, and made sure the speakers knew their seats, too.
In my seat, I was heavily eyeballed by the big-bod’s team. There were a cluster of people glued to Her elbows who were either close friends or those with clout in the industry and because of my job, I displaced them from sitting next to her. I said with a smile I had to be there to “do the cues”, but their faces made no sign of hiding I was a low quality problem. My presence was tolerated until the speeches were done, and the glamorous posse reformed.
You see, I am the Scruffy Owl.
The owl is symbolic.
2/ This Cherub
I got this from a charity shop in Cowes one lunchtime when I realised I had free will and could put anything I wanted on my own Christmas Tree.
Its features continue to wear off each year, and I love not knowing its former glory. Was the whole thing once painted, blonde curls and all, or has it always been this grecian minimalist piece?
3/ This Embroidered Robin Square
One of my Mum’s creations. It is perfectly symmetrical and may be the only instance I’ve seen of denim blue successfully worn on a Christmas tree.
4/ This Tiny Iridescent Discoball Bauble
Believe me when I say this one is weighty. A mark of higher quality that I didn’t know a decoration could achieve. It is slightly matte, but somehow still twinkles as it twists.
5/ These Kind Of Chaps
I lost a lot of decorations last year to a mould from leaving the XMAS BOX in a strange part of our house I call the Rat Cave. Only a few of These Kind Of Chaps were left un-blighted by the roaming green fuzz. A mixture from my parents’ collection and second-hand, I just love them. The Survivors.
6/ This Handmade Gingerbread Man By My Son At 2yo
A funny thing to be nostalgic about the future, I guess. But I look at this and wonder when the green wrapping ribbon will perish, and I’ll have to replace the original part at a cost to my aging heart. Will the glitter be worn off each year by its neighbours in the box, and somewhen it’ll just be this pale grey silhouette. Will we have this when he’s twenty, and he’s coming back for the holidays, and I’ll look at him all massive and a man, and think of him when he was two with huge eyes and clammy hands.
Who knows.
Happy Christmas <3
xoxo
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