If it snowed or was frosty, the festive hysteria went off the scale”
I love Christmas – always have and always will. When I was a child, I used to get sick with excitement for a good month before the big day. In fact, as soon as the weather started to turn chillier – usually late September – the preparations begun and the anticipation started to build. The older I get, and the further away Christmas seems to get from the simple family celebration it used to be, the more nostalgic I become for yuletides past.
Christmas for me was always about having lots of people around, laughter and happiness, and the act of giving. As children, my sister and I would queue for ages at the WI (Women’s Institute) annual Christmas bazaar to trawl for special gifts for our relatives. This ranged from hand-stitched peg bags or aprons for our aunties to old brooches unearthed on the bric-a-brac stall, perfect for our grandmother. Virtually everything in our Christmas was homemade or homegrown. Christmas puddings and cake, parsnip wine, home-grown Brussels sprouts, potatoes, carrots, and fresh bread sauce for the festive dinner table.
We made decorations – paperchain garlands for the ceilings, pipe-cleaner angels with crepe paper wings, hand-drawn advent calendars depicting snowy village scenes. Then when I was seven or eight years old, I made little stockings out of felt to hang on the tree, saving my pennies to buy sweet treats to fill them. When Charlie was a similar age, we made Christmas bags and stockings with the recipients’ names embroidered on them. A Christmas hat, crafted for a school competition, won first prize and was definitely the only hat in the history of the establishment to be made from suedette with vintage button trims!
The magic of a Christmas tree
Our festive fir was never a ‘designer’ tree. It was always a ‘real’ one, preferably with roots, that could be planted afterwards and was decorated with multi-coloured baubles, lights and tinsel. When we were very small, Sarah and I would get up early in the mornings leading up to Christmas and switch the tree lights on, mesmerized by the way the bulbs reflected in the sparkly glass baubles. We played a game with dice which essentially involved throwing a ‘six’ to reach the tree. There were two long baubles – one green and one pink – which were our special ones.
This year, I’ve been decorating my mother’s tree and have been delighted to see that many of the original baubles have survived. The little glass clip-on ‘bird of paradise’ now has a much-thinned tail, while the glass baubles are showing signs of years of wear. But the memories they hold of Christmas during the 1970s are still very vivid for me, and welcome in these almost unrecognizable changing times.
Yuletide 1970s style
Looking back at the 70s, we only got presents at birthdays and Christmas, and unlike the expectations of many youngsters today, we were very grateful for everything we received. I can remember virtually everything I was given during those years, including a red plastic toy telephone from Uncle Teddy, a cash register (or till) complete with toy money, and my very favourite miniature sweet shop, which fuelled my lifelong desire to have my own shop. I loved getting kits for things to make, such as a lovely porcelain doll with patterns to make a wardrobe of vintage outfits.
When I was 12, I designed and made soft toys for people as presents before moving on to designing and creating clothing. I always made my own – and very often my mum’s – Christmas outfits including a rather chic Blackwatch tartan dress which is still in her wardrobe.
The other thing we always had and expressed as children was gratitude – even if we really didn’t really love the gifts we received. As a child with sensitive skin, I had the annual disappointment of getting bubble bath sets from certain people and still writing ‘thank you’ notes despite not being able to use the contents. We religiously wrote to everyone with our thanks.
In the week leading up to Christmas, the excitement built. If it snowed or was frosty, the hysteria went off the scale. We both went to Sunday school and church most weekends and being musicians, we were part of the band of carol-singers who toured the village. It usually involved church choir members on vocals, myself with a recorder and my dad on piano accordion. One of the highlights of the evening was going to the home of one of the elderly villagers who served us hot mince pies in the warm, along with a festive glass of sherry (for the adults only of course). I can still rekindle that giddy feeling I got, just from being with other happy people and spreading cheer with our jolly renditions of traditional songs.
Going back even further, the highlight of my mum’s Christmas was having the Rupert Bear Annual read to her and her siblings on Christmas afternoon, in the ‘posh’ front room. Christmas day was the only time a fire was lit in there and she remembers it as magical, despite how little they actually had in terms of Christmas gifts.
Things have undoubtedly changed beyond all recognition both in our family and in the wider community. The fact that I no longer have my dear sister to share the joy with makes it all the more important for the magic to live on through memories – and the odd physical reminder such as the characterful glass bird of paradise, and our pink and green baubles. This year, we have already had a cold snap and a light dusting of snow in Suffolk and Norfolk. The ten years I spent in Australia with inflatable Santa on the rooftop in 40-degree heat made me yearn for the cold British seasons of yesteryear.
These days I’m still designing and making things as gifts. You can imagine that friends and relatives have often received one-off bags, hats or jewellery. I like to think of that now reaching further afield, with my lovely customers purchasing kits or fabric to make special presents.
With a Royal Mail postal strike scuppering plans to launch new kits before Christmas this year, I’ve decided to try to enjoy the remaining build-up and save my new products until January when the urge to hibernate and create will pull us all out of the post-Christmas blues. Look out for the January newsletter and blogs for more details of new products.
You can of course still buy PDFs and I will endeavour to get any fabric or button orders out as soon as possible, so do visit the Charlie’s Aunt Etsy shop. So, it just remains to wish all of my wonderful customers a peaceful, happy and blessed yuletide, and to say a very big ‘thank you’ for your support for Charlie’s Aunt xx
