How to have a stress-free Christmas with 9 clever hacks to help you wing it
Why is it that when we reflect on our childhood Christmases they seemed so simple and... wholesome? Was it because someone else was carrying the stress and we just focused on who got the last golden-wrapped Quality Street? Or was it because expectations were distinctly lower?
Stocking fillers of wrinkled satsumas wrapped in yesterday’s foil and plates of overcooked veg with hard-to-identify meat (is it turkey? Pork, perhaps?) feel quite different to Sephora skincare that your tween daughter will want to store in her personal skincare fridge and Ottolenghi’s cumin and Szechuan pepper lamb with steamed aubergine (for starters).
But what if we ignore the ‘Grinch of Christmas Perfect’ and dare to wing it? What if a sloppy, laissez-faire approach is just A-okay? With this in mind, here are my tips on navigating Christmas so that you can emerge that bit more joyful and triumphant…
Identify your festive role model
At Christmas, it’s important to dig deep and remember your own personal source of inspo. For example, my ‘spirit animal’ is The Dude from the iconic Coen brothers film The Big Lebowski. Why? Well, he lives in his dressing gown, drinks White Russians for breakfast and is permanently zonked. He is the cosmic opposite of Christmas overwhelm and stress.
Now, when I’m sent into a Christmas-related panic of people-pleasing and paranoia, I channel The Dude. The Dude does not get stressed (I often chant this to myself during difficult moments). One of my favourite quotes from the film is: ‘Yeah, well, you know, that’s just, like, your opinion, man.’ Quite frankly, this is the perfect phrase for Christmas – if anyone judges the way you’re running this mother ship, there’s your ready reply.
So, ask yourself: who is your role model at Christmas? And how would they react to Christmas angst? Then channel that energy as much as you can when a moment of tension arises.
Pick and choose your Christmas rituals wisely
Before I had children, I hadn’t even heard of ‘elf on the shelf’. Then I got swept up with the whole thing, only to find that scrolling social media for amazingly innovative antics for a naughty toy elf to perform was enough to send me into a spiral of anxiety. As well as being expected to plan presents, wrap presents, put up a tree and sort the food (with the help of my partner, who is very good at this), I now needed to position the elves (we have two) in different places around the house before I went to bed. For 24 nights!
This lasted for one festive season, before I decided the elves are both incredibly lazy. They watch a lot of TV. They like to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes, they don’t change position at all. ‘Look at those lazy elves!’ I proclaim every morning. My kids don’t mind and I’m less grumpy and overwhelmed, too.
Make Christmas parties work for you
We all know how busy it can get at Christmas with social events. The trick is: don’t commit to parties weeks in advance, because by the time the party comes around, the likelihood is you are a) exhausted b) have stuff to do c) have social overwhelm.
Instead, try to position yourself as the surprise guest – the one who only agrees to come on the day itself. People will be so happy to see you! Then, always remember the phrase, ‘Nothing good happens after 9.30pm.’ Come in loudly, say hello to everyone, make a couple of gags, then leave without even saying goodbye. This is known as the ‘French exit’ and is actually a thing.
Keep the food easy (unless you enjoy doing hard things)
I love a complex, hard-to-achieve recipe as much as the next midlife recipe dork, but remember, Christmas Day is possibly not the time to road-test something challenging with more than 30 different ingredients. Do the meal you’ve done a million times. You should be able to do this meal in your sleep.
In my Bridget Jones rock-and- roll years, I lived in a basement studio in London and decided to roast a goose (or my boyfriend decided to). Nobody warned us how much smoke a goose makes when it’s in the oven. Or how that would feel when the fire alarm keeps going off so that all the other residents hate you and your window is permanently nailed shut for security reasons.
Fast forward to the present day, and my kids genuinely prefer a turkey crown and Paxo stuffing to the version my partner makes with ground up chestnuts, cranberries, garlic and onions. Treat any impromptu guests to Jacob’s Treeselets – fun cheesy biscuits shaped like Christmas trees – and Quality Street chocolate orange Matchmakers.
Dressing gowns are the new Christmas jumpers
On Christmas Day, we genuinely don’t need to have the kind of style that amplifies stress levels. Instead, I subscribe to a look that I’ve named ‘Bette Midler kicking back in her dressing room in the 1970s’.
It goes like this: start with comfortable, good-quality underwear. Add leggings or bougie jogging bottoms, a nice T-shirt and a fabulous dressing gown. The focus is on the quality of the dressing gown. This isn’t a towelling effort with strings dangling off the sleeve (but it’s perfectly fine if that makes you feel good, too) – it’s more like a kimono or dress coat. Something you’d be happy for Harry Styles to see you in if you were both in Londis looking for a jar of last-minute cranberry sauce.
This look says, ‘I am fabulous, but will also be enjoying my first nap by 3pm.’ It implies you have shut all those work tabs down and are only here for content about joy and relaxation.
Lean into disaster
Mess happens and things go wrong. This is true of life and definitely true of Christmas. The meal doesn’t turn out as expected. Your kid stuffs a toilet roll down the loo and you have to call a plumber out as it’s stuck in the U-bend. Someone decides to address that long, lost elephant in the room.
A couple of years ago, I had a particularly awkward Christmas at a relative’s house – everything was going wrong. The mix of protagonists around the table didn’t help – the conversation was stilted with the feeling that any minute someone would unpack an ugly wheelbarrow of unresolved family trauma. Suddenly, my three-year-old daughter began a game of tag with the most ‘difficult’ family member. There were nervous titters around the table. I hoped the immersion in childhood glee would lighten the mood. Instead, my daughter accidentally knocked over a stack of antique plates and they smashed. There was deep silence.
Then the awkward mood shifted into something that can only be described as relief (we’d exploded the awkward atmosphere) and sadness (this was not going to be an easy Christmas). I took a deep breath, apologised, got the vacuum and agreed we’d leave in the morning. Broken plates? Overcooked meal? Bad presents? The Dude would say they’re all part of the charm.
Grown adults don’t need more stuff
I hate the way we’re forced to buy so many presents. It’s expensive and we worry for months about how we’re going to afford everything. I have friends who are expected to buy their nieces/cousins/second cousins presents and start shopping in September.
We focus on buying presents for children (anyone under 18), and if we want something nice, we buy it ourselves. I love my partner dearly, but twice he has given me a pashmina (who wears a pashmina?). I would then buy him a navy sweatshirt to add to his collection. Now we don’t bother.
Don’t be afraid to ignore the whole thing
My youngest daughter was born three days before Christmas. I could barely sit down without wincing. Simple things, such as walking to the toilet, felt like climbing Mount Everest. We were lucky to have good friends who invited us to eat lunch with them. The highlight was the baby’s umbilical cord falling off, and we put it in a tiny Tupperware in the freezer (we’ve done this with both kids – I’m convinced they’ll appreciate it when they’re older).
The baby didn’t get any presents. We sort of forgot and ran out of time. She didn’t mind, and will have that mummified, frozen umbilical cord when she grows up. My point is, if you’re navigating something monumental, opt for low-key festivities or just sack it off. I genuinely look forward to the days when I’m older, the kids have left home and I can watch back-to-back The Real Housewives on Christmas Day.
Sleigh in your own Christmas lane
The essence of having a good ‘winging it’ Christmas is to be totally focused on what it means to you, and you alone. If that means eating pigs in blankets for breakfast, so be it. If it’s watching the same film at the same time each year (E.T. at 4pm, please), then that’s great, too. Treat with the same caution you might parenting: absorb the advice you need, but ignore the rest.
I have a friend who lets each family member have their favourite ready meal as their Christmas lunch. This means less domestic labour, and 100% family satisfaction. Does she feel guilty? No! Why should she? If somebody tells me about their plans to rent a mansion in the Cotswolds, cook a 14-course meal and go for a hike, I just stick my fingers in my ears and hum 'My Way'.
As Frank Sinatra says: ‘Through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out... And did it my way.’ I can’t think of a more apt message for a relaxed Christmas, can you?
This article originally appeared in the December 2024 issue of Red magazine
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