(Pre-Lit Monogram Pumpkins from Kirkland’s. I told you, I’m all about the K’s these days. You know, in case someone forgets my last name starts with K now, I have to put it everywhere.)
October air has a spectacularly unique crispness and zeal. Temperatures dip just enough to prompt sweater-wearing, scarves, leather boots, and hot coffee. Everything from the colors of food to the shadows in designer eye pallets to the runners of dining room tables begin to mirror God’s miraculous and ever-changing, golden-warm landscape. Sidewalks crunch, fireplaces burn, and a great big bowls of candy can be found on nearly every coffee table and desk for an entire 31 days. Then, after the last miniature fairy-princess and goblin get tucked into bed and the porch light is flicked off, the holidays begin.
There is nothing I find more comfortable, exciting, or warm than the last 3 chilly months of the year, and October has the privilege of kicking it all off. For the clothes, the food, weather, and football, I love October.
So I still consider myself to be a new wife, and one ridiculously high priority of mine is making our little place feel homey (not the first or last time I will likely mention this on the blog.) And there is something that makes me absolutely crazy over fall & holiday decorations. Nothing makes a space feel more snug to me than when it sparkles with fall & holiday charm –perhaps another reason these last 3 months of the year are the absolute best.
As we’re in this first year of marriage, I have sincerely struggled with wanting everything in our home to be perfect instantly -meals, scheduling, relationships, decor, the gamut. I call this something like the “New-Wife, Now-Home Instant-Gratification Syndrome.” I’m really working on it because I do realize this notion is stupidly unrealistic, but a very real battle in my heart. Not surprisingly, this syndrome leaked over into my ridiculously massive want to dress our home for fall.
Through these first nearly ten months, I’ve learned to come to terms with something:
Creating a classically perfect collection of decorations will take time –a lot of time. And probably even more patience. This idea is super applicable to regular decorating, but especially to fall & holiday decorating, I think. It would be lovely if I had the budget to walk into Hobby Lobby, Kirkland’s, and Pottery Barn to simply buy everything off the shelves that sang to me (figuratively -singing holiday decorations can be totally creepy.)
Alas, I don’t (who does?) But honestly, would I want to? (Am I crazy? Maybe. Stay with me.)
If I simply bought everything in one swoop, where would the story be? Suddenly my house may look like Pottery Barn, but I’m not Pottery Barn, I’m Robin. My personality spans more than one style from one store from one season, and I want to reflect that in my decorating, including and maybe especially holiday decorations. My favorite decorations in my home have stories: the lamp I bought shopping with a dear friend in Kentucky, the plaque I found in a hole-in-the-wall boutique in Gruene, Texas with my sister, the rug from my mother-in-law, my grandmother’s old table, the birdcage from our wedding. They’re a collection of memories that make our apartment ours, and I didn’t walk out of Pottery Barn one a Saturday afternoon with a sackful of memories. They took time to collect, and will keep collecting.
Ultimately, I’m trying to become more comfortable with the idea of decorating bit by bit, sale by sale, and being particularly choosy with what I find -to not just buy a vase to fill a table because I want the table filled right now. So I’m fighting to suppress the urge to go out and stockpile all the wreaths, garland, and pumpkins I see just to have a home that immediately sparkles with Fall, but to let time cultivate the space naturally with stories.
Lucky for me, I maybe mentioned to my mother one too many times how much I loved her fall decorations last time I was in Amarillo. Knowing I didn’t actually own a single pumpkin, she took me on a quick trip to Kirkland’s to kick-start my collection. Now forever, when I pull out that set of ceramic pumpkins or flowers, I have that special memory of shopping for my first Fall decorations with mom.