The Petite Novellas | ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas…

…when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

.   .   .

Ginger

Her favorite holiday was Christmas—and she made it explicitly apparent, never ashamed of her love for Christmas. Every year she made sure to buy some Noel-themed t-shirt. A bit corny, yes, but she loved the adorable sayings and images. This year Ginger had found a Junk Food tee, one of those “Little Miss Somethings” shirt, giggling in excitement as she pulled the shirt over her head and a head full of bouncy red curls bounded out of the neck of the tee. She slipped into her favorite skinny jeans, her trusted Jimmy Choo flats, and of course, a medium sized tote that matched her shoes perfectly. It was the perfect outfit for last-minute grocery shopping on Christmas Eve. She checked the clock on her vanity. 8 AM. Surely she could beat the procrastination-inflicted Christmas dinner shoppers. With one last look at her shopping list, Ginger grabbed her keys, smiling at the thought of choosing little peppermint candies and baking gingerbread roofs for her renowned gingerbread houses. Her little red car roared to life as she started the engine. Ginger would make a Santa Claus themed gingerbread house, in a strictly red and white palette (except the sugared rosemary she would decorate the outside of the house with), inspired by the very car she was sitting in. She turned the radio on. The Jackson 5’s “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” was playing.

Waiting Beneath the Mistletoe

Jess always dreamed of getting a kiss under the mistletoe; ever since she was little, hearing those lovely Christmas songs about such romance had given her fantasies about meeting “the one” at some fabulous Christmas Eve cocktail party whilst sipping a bit of eggnog or a bright red Shirley Temple (virgin, of course). Of course now that she was past that day dreaming age of fifteen, she knew the chances of the perfect miracle were rather slim. Nonetheless, memories of such fantastical probabilities still lingered as she was preparing for the Christmas Eve party tonight. It was to be at the Hilton, so formal attire was required. Jess slipped into the little red number she had just bought recently. It was made of the finest red satin, with a lovely bow on the top and little pleats for extra dimension. The dress was a bit on the short side, so she was sure to cover up with slightly opaque, black tights and ankle strap stilettos. Just incase she was cold, she wore a black cashmere cardigan over the ensemble, finishing the look with, of course, a satin clutch in the shape of a bow. Jess took care to apply a glittery lipgloss from Philosophy’s “Under the Mistletoe” Collection. Just in case.

The few friends she knew at the party were no where to be seen, so she was left wandering a bit, with a Shirley Temple in hand whilst sampling little hors d’oeuvres. As she paused for a bit to take yet another sip of the drink and to admire the splendor of the gold and white room, the lights were dimmed and soft holiday music from the live orchestra began to sound. Jess felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. There before her, was quite the handsome man, dressed in a tux with a red bowtie, smiling. There eyes met, then looked up. A little sprig of mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon, hung above them. He leaned in, and she closed her eyes, heart fluttering.

Miss Claus

Leyla loved Christmas shopping. For others, of course. Finding the perfect gift that was sure to make the gift-ee smile was the best Christmas gift in itself. Her pride and joy was in each present, from the actual gift to the box, to the wrapping paper, to the glittery ribbons and bows. So it was no surprise that she took charge of the entire gift giving ceremony come Christmas Day. All the presents were arranged so that the pile beneath the shimmering tree was aesthetically pleasing and rather organized. She woke up the earliest, refreshed and excited as she pulled on a pair of red tights, a la Santa Claus. Over it Leyla wore a satin, sleeveless dress that draped elegantly about her body. Her prized Louboutins, whose sole matched her stockings, crowned her feet. She needed a finishing touch: a delicate snowflake pendant encrusted with jewels on a gold chain from her boyfriend of many years sat delicately on her neck. And of course, Leyla adorned her curled hair with a Santa hat, fully taking on the role of Miss Claus as she headed downstairs, with a sack of gifts in hand.

Sprinkles, Bows & Satin, Oh My

The dreaded corporate Christmas party. Or CCP, for short, as dubbed by the millions of business men and women around the world, who feared being coerced into attending the most boring and awkward party of the year. It was already difficult to decide on what was appropriate for such a celebration with fellow co-workers and bosses: the regular business uniform? Dresses? Not to mention, how to interact: was it a time to loosen up, or retain the formal attitudes and conversations? Miss Adelaide, however, was one of the few in the world who actually looked forward to these parties. Her office party etiquette was impeccable, enviable by the other women in her department that worked beneath her. Adelaide always dressed festively with conservative taste, and always came in fifteen minutes into the party with a tray of freshly baked gingerbread cookies in various shapes, iced and sprinkled beautifully. This year, she wore a chiffon Miu Miu blouse with a large bow in black, tucked into a fitted red pencil skirt. The satin trim added some texture to the outfit, and the bow added dimension to a potentially blah outfit. Red was a bold change for the usual black or gray pencil skirts, adding festivity to the outfit. Adelaide accessorized with a bit more zeal; a headband to pull pack any stray hairs in her loose chignon, a rhinestone encrusted, satin clutch by Prada, and her favorite shoe: a satin stiletto with a gift-like bow at the back. With a swipe of red lipstick and a tray of colorful cookies in hand, Adelaide entered the CCP, all eyes lingering on her as she walked gracefully to the punch bowl that matched her skirt.

.   .   .

Wishing you all a merry Christmas Eve!

xoxo,

La C.

P.S.: Thank you so much, S-C for making me such a lovely card! ‘Twas very sweet of you, darling!