By Suzanne Sparrow Watson
It’s a truth universally acknowledged that, as September rolls into October, while some people still haven’t taken down last year’s Christmas lights, others are meticulously plotting the precise moment their inflatable Santa will make his triumphant lawn debut. In recent years, the race to decorate for Christmas has become its own quirky, competitive sport—one that seems to start a little earlier every year. Forget the “Twelve Days of Christmas;” we’re headed for the “Twelve Weeks of Christmas,” and the starting pistol fires long before the turkey is even thawed. Apparently, Halloween is the new Christmas Eve. As the last trick-or-treater scurries home and the candy wrappers settle, you can practically hear the distant jingle of sleigh bells…or maybe just your neighbor testing his light-up reindeer. For many early birds, November 1st is the official kick-off: skeletons down, snowmen up, and peppermint-scented everything invading Target. Gone are the days when Christmas decorations politely waited until after Thanksgiving.
In our family we always put the Christmas tree up on December 14th. Why? Because that is Bob’s birthday (and a happy birthday to my fun/great/fabulous brother this week!). But frankly, I think he got shortchanged. Rather that anticipating the celebration of his birthday, we were excited to see the Christmas tree go up and, more importantly, the presents underneath it. These days, December 14th is considered so late it might as well be the 4th of July. So, why do people start so early? Is it pure excitement? A desperate bid to outshine the neighbors? Or perhaps a coping mechanism for the shorter days and longer nights? Some experts suggest that early decorating is linked to happiness; apparently, those who string up lights sooner tend to be cheerier. That’s probably because they get a double dose of holiday cheer, plus bonus time for complaints about tangled cords. Retailers, of course, fan the flames with relentless holiday displays that pop up sometime between Labor Day and the first pumpkin spice latte. Walk into any store in early fall, and you’ll find candy canes elbowing aside cornucopias, and Santa glaring at a stack of Halloween costumes. It’s enough to make a person question the space-time continuum. Somewhere, a calendar weeps in confusion.
If you live in suburbia, you know that Christmas decorating isn’t just a tradition—it’s a competitive sport. There’s always that one house that goes full “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” by November 2nd, leaving the rest of the block scrambling to keep up. The result? A dazzling, blinding display that can probably be seen from space, and several confused delivery drivers who now need sunglasses for evening package drops. This escalation leads to what I call “The Glitter Wars.” You start with a tasteful wreath, and by mid-November, you’re frantically googling “giant inflatable penguin with top hat.” The winner isn’t declared until New Year’s Day, when the last blinking snowflake finally burns out in a blaze of post-holiday glory. Of course, not everyone is on board with this early decorating craze. There’s always that one neighbor who stands guard, ready to issue a stern “It’s too soon!” as you hang your first bauble. But really, isn’t part of the magic in getting swept up in the ridiculousness? Besides, if you can’t beat them, join them—grab a mug of cocoa (or pumpkin spice, we’re not judging) and bask in the glow of a thousand LED icicles.
In the end, the answer to “How early is too early?” is: Who cares? Life’s short, and if hanging up a Christmas star on November 1st makes you happy, go for it. Just be sure to warn the neighbors before you plug in your display—they might want to buy blackout curtains.
