You know, this is going to be one of the posts I probably shouldn't publish. Controversy in any form? Not my style. I don't go in for any of the current debates or arguments. I'm usually more in trouble for sitting ...quiet....in public rather than "shooting my mouth off." I am not always that kind, but I want to be. I did defend Paula Deen, but I wasn't defending racism, of course... That's another story.
So, you'd think my subject might have to be something super important, biblical, political--- at least financial. But it's not. It's Christmas sweaters. Yep. Here I find the writing much more intense and personal than the subject warrants. Ugly Christmas Sweater things, parties, parades.... They hurt my feelings. Really. It's ridiculous to explain. It's pathetic actually to be 59 years old and actually give a darn about what people think.
I guess it's something cellular almost with me. As an only child, I learned from Mom and Dad to absolutely share everything and never be that stereotype (which I think is wrong) of spoiled. I didn't learn, however, to be thick-skinned. No brothers or sisters called me pet blames, teased me, or laughed at me. I was the Princess.... Until grade school, high school, and life. No amount of sharing prepared me for the shock of not being special to everyone in the room. How could that be? So little eye rolls and teases... Mocking me about my homemade clothes... It all stung... Inside. Outside, I've lived with my Gramma's philosophy, "Stick yer head in the air."
As a grown woman... I should have outgrown this mortification of spirit. I freely and whole heartedly embraced all things holiday, including sweaters for every festive occasion. For many years, although I'm a large woman, I felt pretty and special in these sweaters. Photos sometimes alarmed my senses as outrageous jack-o-lanterns and wacky cats illuminated me in group photos... But, my confidence allowed me to work that sweater, laugh and truly enjoy wearing them. I have no idea how many holiday sweaters I own... I do realize I was recognized as one to be wearing one... You see where I'm going.
A couple years ago a lifelong friend called me to borrow a couple of my Christmas sweaters for her grandchildren. I refused, even though she really insisted. Later that night I googled a Christmas Sweater Party, something totally new to me. Nope. None of those. Tons of Ugly Christmas Sweater parties. More every year. Prizes. Facebook. More friends calling my friends... Um. ------ FYI: If I own a sweater with a holiday theme, obviously I didn't think it was ugly. Thus... It's hurtful, dare I say rude, to call and ask to borrow one. When I see pictures and realize people are mocking them... Also hurtful.
Nothing to be done. These parties will go on until the pop culture tires of them, if it ever does. But it's just something I finally want to articulate. I know. I really know. It isn't a personal attack on me because, hey! I did finally learn I'm not the center of attention in the universe... But the general public chose something I loved and called it ugly, made it tacky, mocked it, got drunk in it... Lined up for goofy photos... And by association, it feels as if they are mocking me
Okay... Got that said. Maybe tonight I'll grow up, stop being four years old, and wear whatever I want, NO. MATTER. WHAT? Everyone else sure does. Maybe the next fun thing will be a "shoddy cell phone or icky IPod party". Maybe sixty-something's will go places with holes torn out of all our clothes and "hot stuff" glittered smack dab on our butt cheeks.....Lol... Naw, that's too awful, even for pop-culture.