When I wrote this essay a few weeks ago about romanticizing the everyday, I was so happy to find that it resonated with so many of you. I love that we all seem to share the same passion for dressing up our own lives, even (or especially) the otherwise boring parts. As we approach the holidays, I’ve been thinking a lot about traditions — the ones we grow up with, the ones we establish ourselves, and the ones that people expect us to care about versus the ones we actually do. More specifically, I’ve been thinking about the way they can make something mundane feel special, just like I wrote about in that essay. Traditions can give something simple so much more depth and comfort and meaning. Though Jake and I usually spend Thanksgiving with family, this year we chose to stay in New York for the holiday. We’ll be driving down (and then back up) the east coast in December and January, spending multiple weeks with family in South Carolina and Florida, and it just felt like too much to add another trip to our schedule right before December.
Even though this has been the plan since summer, as the end of November got closer, I started to wonder if I would regret the choice — or maybe if I should. Jake and I are our own family unit, of course, so I felt good about spending the day together, having our own little Thanksgiving dinner and traditions for two. But as Thanksgiving approached and I had exactly zero desire or plans to cook a turkey or spend all day baking pies or sign up for a turkey trot, I wondered if I would eventually regret that, too. Would it feel wrong to do… well, nothing? But as I sit here typing this on Thanksgiving Eve, I am happy to report that I feel pretty great about the decision. I have zero plans for tomorrow except to drink coffee, watch the parade, write, work on some house projects, and end the day by making sheet pan nachos for our Thanksgiving dinner. I’m not saying that this is our new tradition — and, of course, I value and am thankful for Thanksgivings spent with lots of family and turkey and all the rest, too. But for right now, during this exact moment and year of my life, this is exactly what I need. It’s more important than whatever other tradition I’m supposed to follow.
All this is to say that I’m in favor of breaking traditions to create a day or a moment or an experience that feels more true to you. Jake and I skipped the garter and bouquet toss and cake-cutting at our wedding (in fact, we had an Auntie Anne’s pretzel truck at the reception instead of cake, a divisive choice that I still stand by, for what it’s worth), but I wish I had been even more comfortable cutting back on traditions. As it turns out, slow dancing in front of dozens of people is not, really, my favorite thing, no matter how much I loved having that moment together or our first dance song (“Simple Life” by The Weepies, if you’re wondering). On the flip side of this, though, I think that we should all get more comfortable with making our own traditions. Big ones, small ones, weird ones. As Jake and I settle into this home and I picture the decades we plan on spending here, I’m thinking more than ever about what type of traditions I want – not just at the holidays, necessarily, but year-round. Here are a few of the ones I’ve been thinking about lately.
I want to re-watch Fleabag S2 every year when it snows for the first time.
If you know me, you know I love Fleabag. It’s funny and dark and moving and makes me think differently about relationships and writing and creativity every single time I watch it. I never get sick of it, and I feel like I take something new away from it every time I watch. Though it is a deeply uncomfortable show to watch in many ways, there’s just something about it that comforts me. And though I don’t think any of Season 2 is set in winter, there’s something about it that feels appropriate for a colder, chillier season. I think “I should re-watch that show” so many times throughout the year, so I figured I should save it from a time of year that tends to be slower, darker, colder. Anyway, all this is to say, I want to re-watch Fleabag every year, starting on the first snow of the winter season. Ironically, this happened to be yesterday here. Snow is always going to be a little exciting to me, I think, as someone who grew up in Florida, but knowing that it was time to rewatch my favorite show just made it feel that much more cozy to me. Not big or flashy or exciting. Just like, a moment that was mine. That I created.
I want to have a present-wrapping night every year.
We’ve been doing this for the past few years, but I think there’s something magical about having a Christmas present-wrapping evening once a year, right before the holiday itself. You put a Christmas movie on, light holiday candles, put on Christmas pajamas… make a whole event of it. There’s snacks and drinks and all of the wrapping supplies you’ll need, all laid out at once. Obviously, it’s a bit difficult depending on how many people you live with (and have to keep presents hidden from), but for Jake and I, it always makes for a really nice night.
I want to do a closet clean-out every Black Friday weekend.
If you scroll through your feed right now, I’m sure you will find a dozen different opinions about Black Friday/Cyber Monday shopping almost immediately. You’ll see a hundred different items on sale all pasted into one aesthetically-pleasing collage, a speech about why you should shop small, a caption about how you shouldn’t shop at all, a guide to ‘must-haves’ followed by a disclaimer that you don’t actually need any of it. I appreciate all these takes, to be fair, and I find myself bouncing between them, mentally, myself. I want the sales! I want the things! I want to shop small! I want to save my money! I want to know I don’t need it! But then I want it anyway! And, you know, no such thing as ethical consumption under capitalism, etc, etc. All this is to say, I’m speaking personally here when I say that there are quite a few things I’m eyeing for this Black Friday, both things I need (paint sprayer, anyone?) and things I really, really don’t (I am considering this dress and these shoes for my New Year’s Eve-on-a-cruise look… and these cozy sweaters, because… well, there’s no reason, I just like them).
But I am also aware that it has been a long, long time since I cleaned out my closet and I am feeling the consequences of that (I can’t close my dresser drawers comfortably, which is always a big red flag). If you’ve followed me for a while, you might know that I did monthly closet clean-outs and sales on Poshmark (my Poshmark profile is linked on my Instagram highlights, by the way) throughout 2020/2021, but I’ve since fallen out of the habit. As I find myself contemplating purchasing things this weekend, all I keep thinking is: You can’t even shut your dresser drawers, Olivia!!! So, I’m making a deal with myself: Clean out my closet, list the items on Poshmark, and feel a bit better about any shopping that might happen. If I know myself, the entire experience will probably make me shop smarter, anyway. And that’s never a bad thing.
And oh, there are more traditions I’ve dreamt of. Smaller things. Friday night pasta, for example. Or watching Tuck Everlasting every year on the first day that really feels like summer. I like the bigger traditions, too, obviously — the ones I’ve grown up with and those are special to me as well. But I like the idea of making some for myself, too. And not just for the holidays, either, but for the entire year. I guess there’s an argument to me made that trying to make everything feel special kind of makes nothing special, but I would actually disagree. I think there are enough dull and dark and sad things in the world that it’s kind of our duty to make the rest sparkly and special. I mean, why wouldn’t we do that if that’s an option, too?
PS: I’d love to hear about your favorite traditions, specifically the ones you created and started in your own life, so feel free to share in the comments if you’d like!
I’ll be back after the holiday weekend with a new mini podcast (plus my usual free, weekly essay, of course!). In the meantime, I am wishing you all a lovely holiday weekend, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.
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My little tradition is to wear white on the day of my wedding anniversary. It doesn't have to be a fancy outfit, but something has to be white on the outfit. It's mostly a nod to myself, I don't talk about it to others and I'd be surprised if my husband every noticed. It's just nice to have a tradition for myself only.
I love this! For many years now, on the first chilly autumn Saturday morning of the year, I've gotten a hot PSL and driven around listening to the whole Red (now Taylor's Version) album. I also have a perfume I spritz on every Sunday to make that day special in a new way since I walked away from a high-control religion a few years ago. I want to make more of these!