Tuesday, December 19, 2006

You know who you are

My sister has dared me to tell my ugly holiday sweater story, and you know how that goes, when a younger sibling dares you. I’m afraid if I don’t write this post that she will double dare me, and then double dog dare me, and nothing good can come of that.

I have an aversion to holiday sweaters. I know I’m not the only one, but when I see an otherwise attractive woman walking around in stirrup pants and one of these babies…


…it’s like she doesn’t want her husband to fuck her again, EVER.

They only time the above sweaters are acceptable is if you are over 75 years old AND live in the Midwest or other deeply unfashionable area of the country, or are so disfigured that you are actually trying to keep people from discerning a human body shape underneath your head.

I received a holiday sweater once. It was the holiday sweater to end all holiday sweaters. I wish I had a picture of it. But let me describe it to you. It was a red cardigan divided into panels featuring different scenes of TEDDY BEARS baking CHRISTMAS COOKIES. And buttons of the sweater? Well, they were shaped like CHRISTMAS COOKIES, of course. Were there sequins, or beads, or other embellishments on the sweater as well, you ask? Girl, you know there were. You know that sweater weighed about 28 pounds. 28 pounds of serious, serious, ugly.

At this point, one of you out there should be nodding your head in recognition. Because you gave me that sweater. Do you remember? Do you? Because, when I received that sweater I thought “This person has known me my whole life. On what freakin planet, in what kind of strange bizarro universe, do I wear a FUCKING CHRISTMAS SWEATER WITH FUCKING TEDDY BEARS BAKING FUCKING CHRISTMAS COOKIES???”

It was like you didn’t even know me. Or like you were trying to tell me that I was old, and that my days of looking attractive should by all rights be over, and that that holiday sweater was my initiation into the post-cute club or something. And that hurt.

To be fair, you’ve done fine since then, and I have never spoken to you of the Holiday Sweater Incident. But if you are reading this, and you want to acknowledge your mistake, and offer up an excuse that involves a Xanax overdose, or perhaps being pressured into the purchase by a former significant other with really bad taste, I would be willing to let bygones be bygones. You know, it the spirit of Christmas and all that.



(thanks to my sis for the awesome fugly holiday sweater montage)

8 comments:

SkylersDad said...

"…it’s like she doesn’t want her husband to fuck her again, EVER."

Well there you go, the answer to the question of why wear those sweaters - birth control...

Cisco said...

In some cases it is a family tradition, but Overall, I agree with your view.

vikkitikkitavi said...

SkyDad: I can't think that's what they're intending, though.

Cisco: Just because you do something every year, doesn't make it a good thing. Take the Grammys for isntance.

Spooney: Interesting theory. I may have to reconsider my position.

bubbles said...

Re: 'it's like she doesn't want her husband to fuck her again, EVER."

Women should take a queue from men on this one. We would be better off if we didn't judge our value or each other based on how "pretty" or well adorned we are.

At home.... a clever wife could create a challenge... like, "see if you can bang the beads off this stupid sweater, dear."

The fortunate wife will have a man that welcomes the challenge!

The Boob Lady said...

Amazing story. Thank you Vikki. Thank you.

vikkitikkitavi said...

AnonB: I'm sorry, baby, but I can't go with you on this one. By wearing the hideous holiday sweater, you are signaling to the opposite sex that you are finished, kaput, you are done done done with the whole messy sex bidness and would much rather be polishing the silver or mulching the lawn.

Boob Lady: You're right. It is amazing.

GETkristiLOVE said...

I seem to remember more to the story - didn't this incident spark an email we sent back and forth about an imaginary Christmas sweater?

Also, my word verification is: ooacok - it must be Christmas!

vikkitikkitavi said...

You'll have to remind me on the plane. If Denver has recovered by then and we actually end up on the same plane, that is.