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Long before things like “tweeting”
and “Kardashian”, there existed a Christmas tradition so fantastical that it
almost hurts to write about it. After a long December day out hunting or
cobbling shoes or working at the neighborhood brothel, men and women of olden
times would display their days’ work upon their chests. Bloody deer heads,
newly built sleigh bells, a fresh candle ““ all would be carefully fastened to
the torsos of the men and women of old. They would walk around drinking ale,
talking about how child labor was totally cool, and warm themselves by the
meager heat radiating from a smelly oil lamp. “Twas a magnificent time, indeed[1].
Of
course, at some point covering yourself in bloody carcasses and bits of factory
crap fell out of fashion quick. But the desire to show pride in one’s December
wears did not. So instead, industrious women and hard-working child laborers
pulled together to create a symbol of those days of yore. That timeless symbol,
my friends, is the Christmas sweater.
Okay,
so maybe that isn’t entirely accurate. But when you’re a little Jewish kid
growing up, you don’t really get why people wear hideous and uncomfortable and
garish sweaters once a year. Maybe no one told you the exact purpose of a
hand-knit Rudolph or a polyester Frosty[2].
So you make up a story that works in your head for why those sweaters are so
sexy to dem Christians.
As
I get older I realize that the true meaning of Christmas isn’t love or spirit
or last minute trips to the mall. The true meaning of Christmas is food.
Thanksgiving serves as the Pregame to the main event: a December eve and day of
gorging on cookies, cakes, and a variety of roast meats. Of course you would
want to wear something shapeless and lumpy on a day like that! Of course you
would want it to be so colorful and distracting that your new gut and moobs[3]
get upstaged. As a Jew who eats so much Hannukah fare she is actually sweating
latke oil for 8 days, I get it.
So
I’m here after my bogus history lesson – with a business proposal. Someone make
a damn Hannukah sweater! We Jews aren’t that stylish a bunch. We’re ready to
enrobe ourselves in some fluffy blue and white number, with a knitted
(knatted?) menorah across our nipples. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, other
inventive and rich people ““ I’m looking at you. Get on this shit.
Til
then I’ll be trolling the mall, stealing glances at the C-Sweaters like a
prepubescent dude does to a Playboy.
[1] Especially
because back then they said “’twas”.
[2] Maybe
polyester Frosty sounds like the next big Indie band.
[3] Man Boobs
(source: Encyclopedia Tittanica)
