Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, What Shall I Wear to Cut Thee?
omg. omg. omg.
We are in crisis mode in the Scouras household right now.
For you to truly understand where we are, you have to know how we got here.
This is where it all began…
Most men have particular values they they refuse to budge on, like only buying American made cars. Steve has many, but one of his biggest things is having a real live Christmas Tree. And not just any tree. Within 500 feet of our complex is a Home Depot selling tress for $30 and even a Boy Scout troop that have set up shop in the liquor store parking lot. He scoffs every time he drives by these “dead” trees and reminds me for the 200th time that he would never allow another person to cut down his Christmas tree. Ever.
Last year was our first Christmas living together so picking out the tree was a big deal. Since I like to pretend I have my own reality show, we even videotaped ourselves selecting the tree and subsequently cutting it down. We made a few mistakes though, that we were determined not to repeat this year.
1. We got the tree literally a week before Christmas. If you’ve never cut down your own tree before (which I hadn’t since I was like, 5) you know it’s a TON of work and not really worth rearranging your entire home for a week of enjoyment.
2. We had a wedding looming. Everything was on stress overload and getting a tree wasn’t high on the priority list until one day we were like “oh crap, we need a tree.”
3. When we got to the tree farm in Rhode Island, every single normal looking tree had already been tagged. We were left to choose from different shapes of shrubbery and Charlie Brown trees.
4. We bought the tree one random morning before both of us had to work. Steve had to drive to work and then home with the tree on the roof because we didn’t even have enough time to set it up that day.
Despite all of these things, we ended up with a nice little first tree.
sigh. i’m depressed now. also, now i miss my couch
So this year, we were going to do it the right way. Steve has been telling me for 6 months that we were going to get our tree from NH because “that’s where trees come from.” We picked a day that we were both off, which happened to be December 1st. Perfect tree date.
So of course, I had to start planning my outfit.
I knew right away I wanted to wear red flannel, because that’s what lumberjacks wear when they cut down trees and cutting down your Christmas tree is pretty much the closest you’ll ever come to being a lumberjack. The problem was I wanted to be like a cute lumberjack, and if you’ve ever seen a real lumberjack, it’s not a word that is often related. I should know, as I am forced to watch many shows that have the word “Logger” in the title.
The best place to buy flannel is clearly L.L. Bean. While I love all my outerwear from Maine’s finest export, I make a point not to buy clothes there, because everything is boxy and pleated. Total Mom jeans, all the way.
oh, hey guys.
So I braved the mall Black Friday weekend searching for the best fitting red flannel shirt money could buy. But not like real money, more like BF sale money, because I knew Steve would have a coronary if I spent an exorbitant amount on another themed article of clothing.
The first place I went to was the Land’s End shop at Sears. I was so disappointed in their flannel selection. Isn’t Land’s End supposed to be like in direct competition with the Bean? They had 2 women’s flannel shirts- one was orange, and one was blue. Not Christmas-y. I did appreciate however that they came in petite sizes, but I didn’t even try them on because who wants to look like a flannel traffic cone?!
Next I hit Hollister/Gilly Hicks/Aero/AE/A&F. While those may be separate stores, I hate them all equally so they get lumped together. 4 out of 5 of those places smell like last call at a skanky club and I’m convinced that you’re going to hear about them being investigated in a child pornography ring someday because all their employees are 14 and scantily clad to the point that I feel like I can’t look directly at them. Most of them had at least fake flannel shirts (you know, the ones that look like it but don’t feel like it- so basically, plaid shirts), but they were all in colors like pink, orange or turquoise and about 5 inches too short for me, which I’m guessing is their tactic for keeping the old farts out (i.e. people over the age of 20). I did actually find a pattern at Hollister that I liked and that was actually flannel but it was a “Dudes” shirt, which is their incredibly dumb way of saying it’s for men. Well, boys. Man boys. Given that Hollister stuff is miniature, I thought maybe I could rock a “Dudes S.” However, since it’s made for Dudes that look like this, it was straight up and down super boxy and not at all flattering. I was really disappointed, because the color and the feel of it was exactly what I was looking for. Also, I spent all my breaks that weekend knocking over tweens trying to get to these stupid shirts anyway.
I began to advertise my plight to coworkers and I was quickly told by them that Target definitely carries flannel shirts. Since I never need a reason to go to Target, I hustled over there and found a few shirts from their Mossimo brand that could have potential. I am normally a small, and I found it weird that the shirt kept gaping at the bust line because I am certainly not known for having a large chest. I grabbed a medium, and it was the same thing. Ick. Even for only $16, I couldn’t do it. Busting out is never a good look, not even for a lady lumberjack. Well probably especially not for them.
On Tuesday night I got a text from a coworker while I was trying on said shirt at Target informing me there were were some faux-flannel red shirts at Marshall’s. While I really didn’t want to forgo the warmth of actual flannel, at this point I felt like I had become desperate and the only thing that would make me feel better was to buy something. I know, not healthy but the pressure! Oh, the pressure.
I ended up finding 2 that I liked and of course, couldn’t decide. One was like a normal red flannel shirt with a green accents and the other one was slightly longer (more like a tunic) red flannel with black accents. One was $10, one was $12.99. What’s a girl to do?
I know what you’re thinking, and I also thought perhaps the answer was to buy both. Once again I reminded myself that this is something I will most likely wear once and that I was already way off the deep end for worrying this much about it. I settled on the $12.99 tunic because I felt like I could wear it with more things (in my head I was envisioning black leggings and riding boots… which I don’t currently have but are on my Christmas list) and it would cover the zipper on my skinny jeans that always manages to unzip itself. Listen. This is a judge free zone. I bought one pair of skinny jeans for $12 from Forever 21 three years ago. I refuse to spend more on that because I feel like the second I do, they will go completely out of style, which was my same reason three years ago for not investing in them in the first place. I guess I showed them seeing as I’m still wearing them.
After I bought my new flannel, the same coworker texted me:
“You know I have a Ralph Lauren Rugby flannel very festive primarily red but has green orange in it. I’ll bring it in tomorrow, you can borrow if for your pic tree outing so ur not spending $ on a shirt you don’t love for a one time use.”
If that didn’t put my crazy ass in perspective, I don’t know what would.
So I tried on her shirt. I immediately liked it because the tag said “slim fit” which meant I would be allowed to have a shape underneath. It also had a patch of brown suede on the front of one of the shoulders, which I enjoyed but was confused why it was only on one.
When I woke up today (tree day!) I was so excited. I put on my ghetto skinny jeans with my brown boots and tucked my borrowed flannel into my jeans with a brown belt. I even accessorized with a gold leaf necklace. It was Lindsay at her most outdoorsy-ness.
I thought Steve would be excited because flannel is one of his favorite things. In fact, we were flannel twins that day (mainly because I forced him to wear it as well, not that it took that much convincing). However, after I got dressed it seemed like a long amount of time had gone by and he had made zero comments about my outfit.
Me: You look woodsy.
Steve: Thank you.
Me: Do I look woodsy?
Me: Why not?
Steve: Because you just spent 20 minutes putting on makeup. Just because you’re wearing flannel doesn’t make you outdoorsy.
Oh well. At least I got one picture of us together out of it.
Needless to say, this is only part 1 of Steve and Lindsay’s Christmas Tree Saga. The memory of what happened today is just too traumatizing to relive so soon and I’m in a very fragile place at the moment.
Also it’s 12:30 and I walked around a tree farm for 3 hours today so I’m spent.
Since I know how incredibly difficult it’s going to be for all of you to wait, I will give you a hint as to how it ends:
it’s not pretty.