Remembered and Unremembered Christmases
The rise of 80s/90s/00s Christmas posts on social media
Christmas isn’t really Christmas. Or, that’s what social media is telling me. This week, I take a look at the nostalgia of Christmases past, tied to specific decades, but really centered around Christmas experienced as a child. Why are so many zoomers and millennials yearning for long-gone Christmases? And what does that say about creating traditions in the present?
Unremembered Nostalgia
Because I am a millennial, I feel a certain level of nostalgia about the past—or at least an idealized version of it. But because I am also a constantly online, brain-rotted devotee of social media, I also feel a level of shame.
If there is one thing TikTok has taught me, it is that my nostalgia is nothing unique.
Algorithmic use of social media can sometimes feel delightful for a late-30s woman. For years, TikTok has waffled in identifying my true age. It knows I am not a teenager, and so things like "skibidi toilet" make no sense to me. But it also doesn't know quite how old I am. Sometimes it serves me things for a pure millennial, and sometimes it assumes I am Gen Z, perhaps due to my expansive music taste as a critic.
It is because of this that I am often served clips of pop culture from years past—things like "Wizards of Waverly Place" or "Hannah Montana" or "Henry Danger," shows that I was far too old to have seen when they originally aired.
But I am served and most drawn to mood-based nostalgia accounts, ones that home in on micro-scenes and cultures such as global village coffeehouse or curly girly. A 20-slide carousel will feature images of the Halliwell home from "Charmed" or Sabrina the Teenage Witch's bedroom or screenshots from Practical Magic to capture the unremembered nostalgia of the '90s witchy, whimsigothic aesthetic. In the background, they'll pair it with The Cranberries' "Linger," what seems to be the only Cranberries song Gen Z folks seem to know.
It's a cheap attempt at capturing the past, and yet I always love them and always swipe through every slide, remembering the weird and witchy girls I befriended in elementary school who lived in gigantic Victorian houses.
But one of the most effective ways they tap into the past is through holidays.
Holidays, or traditions in general, are about intentionality. They are about doing something, anything, and making the choice to do it again.
There's a timelessness with their '90s Thanksgiving roundups featuring torn-out pages from Martha Stewart Living magazine and oversized fisherman sweaters and old-school Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade floats.
And because the algorithm doesn't know my age, I have simultaneously been served nostalgic posts for Christmas in the '80s, '90s, and 2000s. While the toys and the aesthetics have changed, there is a through-line in how they are remembered: with hot chocolate and snow days and ugly sweaters and almost always Frank Sinatra’s rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," regardless of the decade it features.
These Christmases of the past will remind me that this season always hits best as a child. Holidays as a child are still unique and surprising and fun. Traditions are not yet ingrained, and if they are, they are not yet annoying. In an ideal childhood, work is being done (by teachers, by parents, by family) to make the season and the day a time to cherish. People are striving to make sure you are happy and satisfied.
Everything is in favor of your joy.
That's not to say that those feelings and those moments can't be yours as an adult, but a lot more work must be done in adulthood to create something special.
Holidays, or traditions in general, are about intentionality. They are about doing something, anything, and making the choice to do it again. And sometimes, adulthood makes it hard to make that choice, to be intentional, to create something of your own and cultivate and revel in it.
What I am learning about myself now is that I enjoy the intentionality of this time of year (Thanksgiving and Halloween included), even when everything else in my life and in the world seems like it is falling apart. Sometimes, it is the intentionality that makes you able to get through the rest of your days. It is the intentionality that inspires you to keep going. It is the intentionality that gives you something to look forward to. And so the very bad, no-good terribleness of everything around you can become something of a blur, if only for a brief moment, as you gather and celebrate the people and places and things that give you joy.
I am nostalgic for what was given to me as a child, and I am grateful to be able to give those things to myself and to others in the present.
See
This is Christmas: The Brits always seem to get Christmas movies right, and this 2022 film is no exception. Starring Alfred Enoch and Kaya Scodelario, it tells the story of a two twentysomething commuters who are inspired to create a Christmas party for the regulars they see on their train to Central London. I watched this last year and was struck by its clear yet poignant message of the power of creating your own traditions, especially as we get older and are more set in our ways. Sometimes, all you need is one person to motivate others to create something new. Stream on Prime.
I will not be watching all 106 new holiday movies premiering this season, but if you're interested in taking the plunge, Entertainment Weekly has created a roundup of where to view them across channels like Lifetime, Netflix, and OWN, among many others. If you are interested in a Hallmark-specific list, check out my newsletter from last week.
I don’t see the problem with a Christmas anti-list, but then again, I come from a family of highly communicative and hyperspecific gift givers.
BREAKING: An age discrimination lawsuit filed against Lisa Hamilton Daly, Hallmark’s VP of programming, by a former casting director accuses Daly of not wanting to cast “old people” like stars Holly Robinson Peete (60) and Queen of Hallmark Lacey Chabert (42) because they did not fit her image of the network. Does Daly understand her audience? Does she think Gen Z or millennials have cable? I’m a viewer in my mid-30s, which means I’m on the younger end of Hallmark’s demographic, and I only started watching because I was home sick. I’m planning on discussing this more in an upcoming newsletter.
Advent of the Week
12 Days of Cheesemas Advent Calendar: This seems impractical for a number of reasons. When will this be delivered? Does the average fridge have enough space to house a box of this size? Cheese is risky and perishable. What if this goes bad early? And yet, I am intrigued. Because … cheese. But at that price point? That’s still up for debate. $120, Cheese Brothers.
Everything Else
Wish Paper: You make a wish. You light the paper. You watch it float up and away. Simple yet kitchsy gifts like this are always perfect for stocking stuffers, gift baskets, or the person in your life who has everything but appreciates a little magic. $8, Heirloom Art Co.
Neck and Back Massager with Heat: Visually appealing, this is not. But as a practical gift for the elder millennials and up in your life, this is a game changer. My friend Shanna once recommended it to me, and it’s helped tremendously during my fibromyalgia flares. Since then, I’ve gifted it twice, including to my father, who started using it an hour after he opened his present. $39.50, Amazon.
Until next time!