Helloooooo First name / young padawan,

 

Firstly - hope you're safe and warm and well. The weather's been mad scary in some parts of the country these past few weeks, with awful cold and winds whipping faster than Winston Bishop when he sees the opportunity for a prank, so be careful out there!!!

 

Also - yes, I am still obsessed with New Girl, why do you ask? Actually, I'm glad you brought it up; I have a huge apology to make. Apparently New Girl is leaving Netflix at the end of the year…and I can only assume I'm the one to blame, considering the exact same thing happened with Gossip Girl when I started watching that last December. Maybe Netflix monitor my account (ahem, my sister's) to see what I'm fixating on, and when I land on it, they finally realise it's run its course. Either way, I can't help but feel responsible for depriving us all of easily accessible Nick Miller, and for that, I am truly very sorry indeed. 

 

 

Whilst we're getting things off our chest, I've got a confession to make (God, who needs Andrew Scott the Hot Priest when they have you guys, hey?!). And that is: my flat doesn't look all that Christmassy. It's not bedecked in big bows, there's no wreath on the door, and my tree looks cute, sure, but it's not winning any prizes for originality. (Kate Lindsay recently dubbed the brand of Christmas decoration I subscribe to as “Christmas chaos”, when compared with the “Christmas glam” that we see so often on instagram now.) 

 

Don't get me wrong: this isn't because I'm not fussed about Christmas. Quite the opposite, in fact: I love Christmas SO. VERY. MUCH. It is my favourite time of year bar absolutely none, and I am genuinely giddy for it from mid October onwards. There's just something so magical in the air for me this time of year, even as a secular gal trying to wean herself off over-consumption; something that makes every day glimmer with joy. Everything is mulled, everything has choirs, everything is just GREAT. 

 

So why do I feel like my festive decor is so severely lacking this year? I've felt it as such a personal failure that I even debated whether I should admit it in this newsletter. (That's why it's so late, I've been mulling - pun intended - it over all day, because it feels so vulnerable to share.) My line of thinking has automatically jumped from I love Christmas to my house should look like everyone else's festive paradise on Instagram. I don't have a front porch, but I should definitely have made an effort with my scabby front door. I can't possibly love Christmas as much as I say I do if I've not gone all out on this. How embarrassing that Christmas spirit is a core part of my personality but I haven't even got a kitsch bauble this year!!!!! 

 

It should go without saying that this is faulty thinking - the two have almost nothing to do with each other, and I can appreciate other people's incredible Christmas setups on the hell app without casting aspersions on my own - but I think it's worth saying because I've only just called myself out on it. I've been feeling like this for weeks now (because, ironically, I'm usually so excited that my tree goes up mid-late November) but only recently parsed it for what it was. To be clear, this was not anyone else judging me, it was purely me berating myself. And what for? I wasn't taking my enthusiasm at its face value, and just enjoying it for what it is; instead, I was trying to monetise it, product-ify it, make it publicly consumable.

 

If you've got the Christmas comparison too, you're not alone. So, in the vein of Uncle Billy in Love Actually, here's a message: you don't have to have the biggest, bestest Christmas decor to still be a card-carrying Christmas elf. And with comparison more generally, you don't have to live up to what you see on insta. They can do them, and you can do you. 

 

Xxx

 

 

Here's a little window into what I'm enthusiastic about at the moment…