Once upon a time (last year), we celebrated an ‘American 80s Christmas’ – it was a loud and flamboyant display pulling on the many popular culture references known so well to us from TV and advertising. We sought to show that Christmas need not be viewed as a religious holiday but more as a secular festival shaped by popular culture in which all can partake.
Trying to pin down the origins of Christmas, from its beginnings on the other side of the millennium we are confronted with a myriad of fantastical midwinter tales and protagonists that have circulated under different names and cultural reiterations. Frau Perchta, Krampus, Le Père Fouettard, La Befana, and all manner of magical sidekicks form a long list of spirit-world actors, not mandated by church or state but anointed by nature, coming from the woods, sky, mountains, oceans and even the underworld. Often regarded as ‘Stranger at the Door’ characters, they are sent from beyond the human realm to guide, warn and compel humans at the most vulnerable time of the year.
During the middle ages, these stories were transmitted orally by peasant women and their children in the countryside, at the hearth, or in the kitchen or spinning room. Some were absorbed and adapted to fit Christian doctrine, but especially in the Alpine region, where religion was imposed by conquest and not persuasion first, midwinter folk beliefs persisted for a very long time, the vestiges of which survive in the fairy tale canon today.
It’s not a million miles off to consider that Saint Nicholas might also be considered part of this folklorish posse. Essentially he embodies the idea of ‘The Wanderer’, a traveller from the starlit sky entering a thousand ordinary homes in one single night while all are sleeping; he passes judgment on the behaviour and hospitality of its dwellers, doling out reward or punishment according to the terms of his own world order.
Odd and confused as these narrative motifs are, they betray a universal human experience. Whether to confront the very real fear of hunger, darkness, cold common to most agrarian societies in winter or to act more as parables – expressing a thirst to churn through an existential voyage or collective unconscious – they have been attractive vehicles for human introspection. These stories lack the reassurance of binary morality, they titillate our desire for the uncanny and test our capacity for ambivalence.
A Fairy Tale Christmas is Choosing Keeping’s own wildwood invitation into an irresistible enchanted world and the explosive decorative legacy of Europe’s old tales. All the while planning for this display, we were moved by Richard Dadd’s fairy paintings in the namesake exhibition at the RA this summer – meticulous, soft, and dream-like, underlining the subject’s extraordinary aesthetic potency and, in the true Romantic sense, its capacity for a journey with the inner self. This year, Matthieu Blazy rendered his own delicate and fresh interpretation of fairy tales in his Chanel haute couture collection, another point of reference for our own fairy tale wonderland, complete with peapod stilettos.
We will interpret the topic in the way we know best – with the most beautiful decorations in the land. Last year’s imposed overdose of red, highlighting strength and power, has given way for a more austere and noble chromatic register: friendly browns, autumnal reds and celestial blues. We looked to bring new organic textures to our decorated trees by hanging Swiss honey biscuits (made in Zurich since the 15th century) and EierZucker biscuits (made in Nuremberg from sugared egg whites since the middle ages), strawwork, and tin and metal baubles, all alongside the traditional blown glass we keep coming back to, made in Italy, Germany and Poland exclusively, of course.
Away from wolves and the middle ages, back to 2026, this has been a busy year for Choosing Keeping yet again. Three weeks in Japan choosing beautiful papers and working with our suppliers to create new notebooks to our spec was a great way to start the year. Over the summer, Lime bikes nearly thwarted our mission, but obsession and passion for paper prevailed and we put council rage to the side to present what we believe is our best Christmas spread yet. Now in our fourteenth year (and the eighth here in Tower street), we warmly thank you, our customers old and new, for your encouragement and enthusiasm which makes our shop possible and a joy to be part of. To you, your family and friends, a merry Winter Solstice!
