I used to wear puffed-paint sweatshirts as a child. No, let me correct that. I used to make
puffed-paint sweatershirts. I particularly enjoyed wearing them long,
over my favorite lavender, blue, and green flowered leggings. All of
mankind breathed a relieved sigh when I eventually learned decorated
clothing isn’t actually acceptable fashion. But then my husband, Nick,
reintroduced scenic wear one Christmas with a dazzlingly ugly Christmas
sweater ensemble.
And
so ugly Christmas sweaters became a part of our life together, and each
year, we hunted for just the right ones to don with Yuletide pride. It
was in the spirit of this holiday hunt that I contacted Claire, the
earnest 50-something mom selling her Christmas sweater collection on
CraigsList.
Just $7 each! Want to buy two or more? They’re yours for just $5 a piece!
That’s
when I knew. No irony-addicted hipster would part with a Christmas
sweater for less than $20. This woman earnestly, honestly, deeply loved
her sweaters.
Venturing
deep into the suburbs felt like a holiday quest for our Christmas holy
grail. Her house sat squarely in a row of identical brick and vinyl
two-stories, but inside, it was hardly ordinary.
After
we entered her home and made awkward small talk about city mice,
country mice, and the hazards of young coupledom, the tiny lady
disappeared. While she was gone, we slowly took in the giant exotic
plants that lined the walls from the dining room to the living room,
cream and mauve wallpaper peaking through their leaves.
She
quickly returned, huffing and puffing like she was carrying the toy bag
of the jolly man himself. “The sweaters are in these tubs,” she pried
open a lid. “And then there are these!” She held up a few prized
specimens hung from satin hangers, beaming, and laid them lovingly on
the back of a kitchen chair. She clearly adored every single one in the
collection of 30 some-odd sweaters that she had tenderly and carefully
curated and stored away.
“So
just look through them!" "Take your time!" Claire twittered on as the
sweaters carried her away. "Don’t you just love this one! I remember
when I wore it to a wonderful Christmas party in 1987!”She pulled them
out, one by one, describing all they had to offer. There were red ones
and green ones, blue ones and white ones. There were black ones with
neon patchwork and cream ones with purple Christmas bows. There were
winter scenes, glittery snowfall, beaded starshine and giant teddy bears
patched in among wrapped gifts and glowing fires.
“Ooh!” “Aah!” “Wow!” I managed just enough interest to encourage her on.
“Just
look at the beadwork!” she squealed, holding up an elaborate white
sweater with a golden horn wrapped front to back, around the padded
shoulders.
I
smiled and took the sweater from Claire, admiring it as she had urged.
Then I held it up and turned to Nick, who was so afraid of what he might
say that he said nothing at all.
“Honey, just look at this beadwork! This sweater is just AMAZING!”
He smiled largely enough to contain his laugh and agreed, but his eyes begged me to just decide already!
After
sifting through the huge pile of "maybe" and "almost definitely"
sweaters, I chose four, yes four, of my own, parted with $20, and
thanked Claire for everything.
“You’re
just such nice young people," she smiled. "You know, you can never be
too careful with these CraigsList things. Me? I always keep this ready
just in case. I’m here all alone, you know.” She pulled a small chrome
revolver out from behind a scattered stack of mail.
“You know, one time, this man came to buy some jewelry from me and I wouldn’t even let him in. No
sirree, I wouldn’t let him cross the threshold. He was Russian, I
think. Up to no good, I’m sure about that much. He was a bad man . . .
You kids are just so nice. But you can never be too careful!”
“Wow, that’s amazing!” Nick offered as we backed toward the door. “You really can never be too careful!”
“Thank you so much for everything!” We quickly walked through the garage.
“You have a Merry Christmas!” I locked the car doors and waved goodbye.
We
had found our Christmas grail and then we claimed our Christmas
miracle, too. Shortly after surviving Claire’s suburban shoot-or-be-shot
jungle, Nick took the prize for Best Sweater at the annual Ugly
Christmas Sweater party for his finely crafted choice, complete with plaid bows and brass bells in the shape of a Christmas tree.
“And the beadwork!” everyone said, “Oh, just look at the beadwork! It’s AMAZING.”
