我没有长大吃我的感恩节大餐of a holiday dinnerware set. My mom isn’t the most festive person in the world and now that I think about it, she didn’t display a single piece of seasonal decor or bust out any celebratory tableware the entire time I lived under her roof. Supposedly there was a box of my grandma Freda’s silver-plated flatware collecting dust in the basement and I heard rumors of crystal glasses, but none of it ever saw the light of day. The plates and forks we used when we ate dinner in front of the TV on a random Tuesday were the same plates and forks we used when we sat down at the table on Thanksgiving, rendering any holiday meal more of an occasion than aspecialoccasion. In fact, my most vivid Thanksgiving memory is of my whole family laughing so hard we cried when my mom realized she forgot to remove the giblets before cooking the turkey.
When I started hosting holidays in my own home, I overcompensated for my less-than-Rockwellian upbringing by going overboard with seasonally-appropriate decor. I’m not talking Christmas trees in the bathroom or anything, but after a few years of frequenting thrift stores and estate sales, I amassed a decent stash of brass candlesticks and antiqueShiny-Brite ornaments. The hardest thing to pass up, though, was vintage tableware.
I am decidedly not a formal person, but before I knew it, I had two sets of china, each with distinctive gold detailing, as well as a full set of mustard-yellow stoneware dishes from the ‘70s. There were also kitschy platters, linen napkins in funky mid-century prints, and thick glass goblets in a variety of colors.
After a few years, I learned that while busting out the festive tableware is fun, it’s also kind of a pain in the ass. For starters, when you eat off of dishes so infrequently, you have to wash them beforeandafter you use them, and these weren’t exactly pieces that could go in the dishwasher. Then there’s the issue ofstorage; even with a sizable basement and a ridiculously-large Midwestern garage, I was beginning to feel like my pretty plates and colorful glassware were closing in on me.
I knew I needed to find a happy medium between my mom’s Scrooge-like holiday vibe and my over-the-top one—and that it would mean getting rid of some of my fancy dish sets. Though it hurt to part with such beautiful housewares, I whittled my holiday dinnerware sets down to one, which freed up a little shelf space. But getting rid ofsomeof my holiday dishes made me wonder if I really neededanyholiday dishes at all (especially sincemy everyday plateswere much nicer than what we had when I was a kid).
So I continued to pare down, but I didn’t let go of everything. In addition to versatile smoked glass goblets, I kept my favorite vintage find: a set ofgold-toned flatwareso yellow and shiny it’s almost tacky. I decided it would be my one special set of something, and that its appearance would signal that an occasion was special, too.
It worked. Even when my flashy flatware is paired with plain plates, neutral linen napkins, andfresh flowers, my table still feels merry and bright. Getting rid of bulky holiday dinnerware sets hasn’t made my special occasions feel any less special, but it does make my home feel less cluttered. It makes prep and clean-up easier, too, since all but the gold flatware can go in the dishwasher.
Plus, tableware isn’t the only thing that makes a holiday meal feel festive—it’s the people,the lighting,the music, and of course,the food. Well, as long as you remember totake the giblets out of the turkey, that is.
Find your special set of something for the holidays
You don’t necessarily need jazzy gold flatware to make a meal feel more festive. Your one special set of something can be gorgeous servers, glamorous goblets, vintage dessert plates, or evenglitzy napkin rings. What you choose doesn’t have to be expensive or seasonally-specific, either. The whole point is that you love it and you reserve it for special occasions. That said, there are no table-setting rules anymore and what constitutes a special occasion is completely up to you.
