ColumnConscious life, hear me roar.

I hate Christmas. If you like Christmas in the least, steer clear, or I may just ruin it for you…on every level possible.

Blame this on the holiday’s predictability, its waste, its hypocritical platform where we give to receive some forced satisfaction that somebody cares about us, throw in a sad Salvation Army bell ringer (that most people pass without even throwing a quarter to), and you’ve got a feel for why I can’t help but carry this loathing.

It reminds me of a popular article from EcoSalon about breast cancer awareness and why it’s not enough to donate money – no, we need to buy toxic pink plastic junk to support the cause.

We associate “giving” with simply getting more.

Yesterday over IM, my husband pinged me to ask if had I gotten myself what I wanted yet for Christmas.

“For real, I’m serious, I don’t want anything.”

“Jeez. Thanks for ruining another Christmas for me,” he shot back.

When I called him and told him I wasn’t into ruining anything and that I wanted to use my “gift money” for home improvements, he sighed. We’ve been married 15 years, and he should know me by now.

Gifts? How about saving up for a trip to Hawaii in February? How about fixing the weakening front steps so nobody sues us when they fall into the transom window-well by the front door?

I have gone through Christmases where I needed the gifting, when we were young and poor and lived off a credit card for food just before payday, where we kept the house really cold unless guests were coming over so as to save on heating costs, where we shopped at the Salvation Army to get decorations for a meager potted tree.

From the vantage point of our life now, I can laugh at these things, but at one point in my not-so-long-ago adult life, I was flat broke. Yet that lack of physical wealth didn’t hamper my spiritual love for family; in fact, it just brought us closer together. We used our hands and made things, we baked more, we played guitar and sang more, we went on hikes.

But today? As you read this, I am probably at the mall buying something for my 11-year-old daughter; if she doesn’t get what’s on her wishlist, she’ll be “really mad,” according to the helpful key at the bottom of her wish list. I wonder if this isn’t all my fault, that I’ve not expressed to my family in a clear manner that the holidays are a good time to start a travel fund instead of what we’ve become used to doing.

This morning on Facebook, I looked at what was going on in my friends’ lives and loved discovering that my friend in St. Louis was in the kitchen making Christmas cookies at “top speeds,” my friend Meghan from New York City was on the road, no doubt promoting her sustainable clothing line Afia, and still another friend was getting ready for a cross-country drive to another friend’s house she hadn’t seen in five years.

“This will be my best Christmas present ever,” she wrote.

I bet it will.

If we take away the material and replace it with the meaningful – which just means we focus on what our gut is already telling us to do – we might all be doing some thing a lot different this holiday season. And I suspect it wouldn’t involve the mall.

Between the Lines, is a weekly column navigating the sometimes-sharp, sometimes-blurred lines of life and culture between city and country.

Image: photo_gratis

Why fell another conifer when you can deck your halls with an alterna-tree?

It takes on average, about a decade for Christmas trees to reach the ideal height only to be kept on display for a few weeks before being hauled off to the dump. There are artificial trees of course but they lack the smell we crave of sweet pine forests in winter. Fear not, there are still ways to satisfy your real-tree addiction.

First thing to note: not all trees are bad. You can buy, or even rent, a live Christmas tree in a pot, which keeps all year and gives the gift that keeps on giving: oxygen. Or you could try sprucing up a ladder…

Shaping found objects into a hanging perma-tree…

Embroider or tape a tree…

Recycle a tree, quite literally. (This one is made up of 100 recycled bicycle parts.)

Go hiking and drag a branch home with you, or uncoil a wire into the shape of a tree.

You’re better than the real thing. In fact, you’re a trendsetter – run with it.

ALSO CHECK OUT:

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Images: TW Collins; Inspiration for Home; Jane Shouten; Free People blog; Tilly & Fran; Bloesem; Inspiration Green; Hege Greenall-Scholtz; 

This year, put as much love into labeling your gift as you did buying it. 

Gift tags are one of those things we think about after wrapping a gift and we generally whip up with some leftover wrapping paper, scribbling something uninspiring on it. That, or we run out and buy the first stack of snowman labels we can get our hands on at the eleventh hour.

This year, vow to be a better gift giver by putting as much love into your labeling as you do into your shopping. Here are some simple ways to add some personality to your gift and amaze your loved ones with your DIY prowess.

When you’re at the Christmas tree lot, pick up the leftover slices from the trunks and paint them using poster or acrylic paint. While you’re at it, grab all you can: they work just as well for birthdays, too. Drill a hole into it for the ribbon and use a sharpie on the back for the “to” and “from.”

Family and friends photo tags are a win win. Print out pictures of the people you love on the receiving end of your list and glue the images on shipping tags.

Go old school with your photos using embarrassing high school pictures and accidental shots of friends with their eyes closed.

Tea stained tags are a little more work, but worth it. Brew up some strong tea with two or three tea bags. Throw your tags and tea in a shallow baking dish or plastic container and leave for a few hours. You can keep them overnight for a darker look. Pull them out to dry and start designing.

You can put just about anything on these and they look great. I chose old ornaments and glittery leaves from holiday decor.

Also try photocopied  illustrations from vintage books and wallpaper, like these found at the flea market for a song.

Finally stamp words on your gift tags with letter stamps from the craft store, the funkier the better. Even if your gift is received like a lump of coal, at the very least, it will look good.

ALSO CHECK OUT:

5 DIY Alternatives to Holiday Gift Wrap
11 DIY Alternatives to Traditional Christmas Trees
The Perfect DIY Gift: Mason Jar Photo Candles

Okay, the concept is slightly macabre, but so are these resurrected toys and fairy tales.

In consideration of the holiday season, let’s reflect on Christmas’ past: like that year you had to complete your Jem and the Holograms doll collection or you would just die. (She truly was outrageous.) Or that year mom got a black eye scoring you your first Cabbage Patch Kid. Where’s Rainbow Brite now, I wonder? We’re guessing at the bottom of some rainbow, or dumped in a New Jersey landfill like a bit character from The Sopranos.

By the power of Grey Skull, a designer has found a use for those discarded He-Mans and Thundercats. And an artist from Korea has given She-Ra The Princess of Power’s new Crystal Castle walls to defend, only this time it’s personal.

These welded stainless steel plate sculptures by So Hyun Woo pits the likes of Winnie the Pooh, Piglet and this particular she-hero against the Armageddon (a Decepticon, we presume).

The above are from his Cruel Fairy Tales 3 collection.

Meanwhile, an outfit called Evil Robot Designs designs bespoke lamps out of action figures like Morpheus from The Matrix, Shrek and Donkey, plus a few Hot Wheels glazed in high gloss lacquer and topped with a shade:

Also from Evil Robot, a wicked white lamp featuring Star Wars leftovers and The Scarecrow from DC Comics.

Evil Robot pays further homage to Dreamworks and Toy Story in matte-gloss.

Should you find yourself home for the holidays, pay a visit to the basement and resurrect those old toys. The universe may not need Voltron anymore, but can you say the same about your living room?

Stayed home on Black Friday? Good. Here are some gifts you can buy for the comfort of your own home.

Our favorite eco-retailer, VivaTerra, is having a fantastic holiday sale, just in time for dressing your house up in seasonal, original  fun. These five gems are all 50% off, so you’re within your rights to buy two – one as a gift and, ahem (whisper), one for yourself.

With bijou desserts still all the rage, this branch pedestal server ($87) will display your mini-puds to dramatic effect. Designed as a little tree, it has two levels  – one large and one small – with a butterfly delicately perched on the edge of the upper tray. Besides, we’ve been lusting after it for a while.

Finding a unique holder for those table essentials is always a challenge, which is why we love this chirpy bird salt and pepper set ($12). Their shape is smooth and tactile, with a tiny beak and graceful body – they dispense through a discreet opening on their heads. We like their subtle color distinction.

We’re always on the lookout for new ways to present cheese. This ingenious puzzle board ($29) will make your fromage serving both fun and fabulous.

Having limited kitchen space myself, an all-in-one tower which performs no less than five functions is a winner. This minimalist white ceramic tea tower ($27) features storage and presentation for your teapot, tea cup, saucer, sugar and cream.

These glass numbers are designed to echo familiar shapes: the carton ($12) for your cream and the sack ($14) for your sugar. The Milk carton creamer and sugar sack: perfect for the surrealist tea party.

Images: Andrew Warchy; VivaTerra

Santa will gladly stuff this modern and eco-friendly stocking.

Okay, okay. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but we’re going to jump on the Christmas bandwagon and start celebrating (i.e., shopping) early this year. Albeit, guilt-free.

This strong, “ecospun” felt stocking from Rikrak is made from 100% post-consumer recycled plastic bottles. Each stocking element is cut and crafted by hand and available in 60 color combinations. Have a sustainable Christmas this year, and hang these stockings from your chimney with care. Santa will reward you kindly.

Available from the artist for $15.

Look for Lustables daily at EcoSalon. 100% gorgeous green finds, and never sponsored. Submit your favorite to tips@ecosalon.com

Another Christmas, another disappointment. For the gazillionth year in a row, my husband didn’t give me the one gift I’ve been hoping for – a dumpster.

Dumpsters are not generally admired by environmentalists – the ease with which they allow you to dispose of stuff discourages a careful sorting-out of recyclables. Still, green or not, I love the wholesale housecleaning a dumpster makes possible. I have been coveting a dumpster for ages now, ever since we had one during a long-ago construction project (a girl never really gets over her first bulk-waste disposal unit). I have spent many years pathetically trying to recreate the giddy high I got from that dumpster – the incomparable rush that comes from making decades worth of household junk quickly disappear.

Just thinking about this makes me smile dreamily to myself. I imagine floating from room to room, systematically throwing out the accumulated debris of family life. McDonald’s happy meal toys? Gone! That sad pile of semi-deflated soccer balls? Out! In my head I am humming a happy little song as lanyards and flash cards and countless broken swim goggles are hoisted into the pit, followed by the instruction booklet for a coffeemaker I no longer own.

The way I see it, a dumpster is suburban shorthand for a brand-new start. It signals to the world that some lucky woman is getting a second chance to live a sleek, uncluttered life. Why shouldn’t it be me?

There is a remote and wildly optimistic part of my brain that still thinks it’s possible for me to live a life of austere and Zen-like simplicity. I imagine this existence playing out in serene white rooms with crisp, linear furniture and long stretches of empty counter space. There are no precarious piles of junk mail, no gnarly tufts of dog hair wafting by. I have somehow convinced myself that living in a stark and streamlined place will sweep all the gunk and folderol out of my head, leaving my thoughts as pure and sparkling as my surroundings.  Which is why I keep trying – even without my own private garbage bin – to purge my house on a semi-regular basis.

This, I can assure you, does not make me popular at home, where my family suspects (although they can’t yet prove) that I throw out their stuff when they aren’t looking. To their faces I profess an earnest, if begrudging, respect for their possessions, but once they leave the house, I rub my hands together and cackle in demented, witch-like glee as I dispose of their long-forgotten treasures.

Of course “treasure” is a very subjective word, and one that my family throws around way too liberally for my taste. My husband thought his 1983 Atari video game system was a priceless artifact of his past, but to me it was merely trash; I tossed it out, along with some Barbie coloring books and a musty assortment of soccer cleats.

When my family asks where their stuff has gone, I shrug my shoulders while trying to look innocent and ever-so-slightly distracted. This is a multi-purpose expression I have perfected over time; it is equally effective when my daughter asks what has happened to her Halloween candy.

This does not reflect well on me, I know – clearly I have issues with honesty, not to mention respecting other people’s property. But I am powerless to stop – throwing things out has become a hobby, a vocation, and quite possibly, a mild addiction. And having a dumpster would elevate this pastime into something of an art form. It would certainly make it a hell of a lot easier.

It’s too bad my husband didn’t come through for Christmas. Luckily, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner.

Editor’s Note: Susan Goldberg is a slightly lapsed treehugger. Although known to overuse paper products, she has the best of intentions – and a really small SUV. Catch her column, The Goldberg Variations, each week here at EcoSalon.

Image: shedboy

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Here’s a bit of melody and merriness to soak in.

First, set the tone with this tune. Play this song and relish the nostalgic classic masked in fresh whimsy. Later you can absorb the entire list of melodies from this play list (endless gratitude to Jason Hudson!).

Second, get a drink of festive spirits. Peppermint candy canes make a great last minute infused vodka:

Peppermint Infused Vodka

Add six peppermint candy canes to one pint of vodka.

Let stand at least three hours (the longer, the better).

Enjoy this colorful liquid on the rocks or with hot chocolate.

Third, take pleasure in the simple winter wonderland of these lovely vignettes of calm texture from Walther & Co.

And finally, if you still need a little dose ‘day of’ inspiration, here are 485 pages of red and white festive bliss from What Katie Ate (click here for an introduction to What Katie Ate). Or you can peruse the special Holiday Issue of Lonny (as you know, we love Lonny).

The rains coming in mean bad news. In Gugulethu, the shanties here are on dirt and when the water comes, this equals mud. But even though the rain has poured during what is typically the dry season, people are out and about preparing for the Christmas tradition. Here, there are no gifts. No decorations. No blinking lights or packed car parks. The “better off” people of this area are buying live chickens and preparing Christmas meals. What characterizes the holiday is open doors and closed doors. A closed door means you have nothing to offer in the way of food to passersby. An open door means anyone can come in for a snack. Children roam the dirt and mud corridors, going from door to door, stuffing their faces with good eats. When they get full, they put food in their bags and carry on. It’s like a like a savory U.S. Halloween with no ghosts.

This was how Laura, our guide described Christmas tradition. But as we drove with her, the meta-stories turned more personal. Though she’s what anyone would call a survivor – educated, powerful and kind – she’s had a tough year. Many in her family have died from all sorts of ailments and she’s been looking after a ten-year-old girl with HIV whose parents passed away earlier in the year. The child doesn’t know she has HIV and her parents made Laura promise she would not tell her. The girl takes anti-retro viral drugs but is told that the drugs are for asthma. What concerns Laura is that the girl is looking to start drinking and when drinking happens with women, it means sex. Yes, we’re talking about a ten-year-old girl. Many are mothers by 13 and 14, and eager boys will use inebriation to initiate sex with their young counterparts. Laura is concerned about the HIV and doesn’t know what to do. She’s concerned about the girl drinking and having sex too, but much is out of her power. Drugs and alcohol are big problems in the slums.

The men are the ones who typically drink. They brew a crude beer there and spend the days drinking it. With so much unemployment, there is little else to do. Meth is an issue and so is something new: Smoking anti retro viral drugs. The HIV medication is so plentiful and cheap here that apparently one can smoke it and get a crack-like high. The come down, I’m told, is extremely painful and thus the drugs used this way are highly, highly addictive. But again, Laura invites to look at the good things we see – the children laughing, the young girl playing a game called Puca which involved drawing a circle and placing stones inside it. The goal is to throw one stone in the air and remove one from the circle before the stone is then caught with the same hand. Once all stones are out of the circle, they replaced in the same but opposite fashion. If successful without dropping the thrown stone, the player wins. Imagination holds children’s minds here – there are almost no books (the pages of books are often used as toilet paper), and definitely no soccer fields. The family dwellings are squatted illegally, but no one kicks anyone out. There is nowhere for them to go. Power is supplied but there is no plumbing. Several families share what amounts to a stone outhouse with a bucket. Once a week, if they are lucky, a service comes round and empties the bucket. With the sun beating during our visit, the evidence of too many people sharing the same bathroom lingers thick in the air.

On the outskirts of Gugulethu, just before a Muslim camp, we come across a circumcision shanty situated between the freeway and the off ramp. When boys are 18 they are sent here to be circumcised without anesthesia as part of a ritual into manhood. The shanty amounts to what look like several igloo shapes, only made of old tarps and plastic bags. They are hot and dirty and unsanitary. Laura explains that many boys get infections from the procedure.

But there are no hospitals. Well, there are, kind of, but ordinary people can’t walk into them and be treated. One hospital serves two million on the outskirts of Cape Town and I’m told that people fear it as it is a place where you go to die. There has been some aid from Doctors Without Borders, but two million people is a lot. Much of the resources that would go to help people here are cutoff by corruption in government. Corruption happens at a very low level and as soon as someone gains a bit of power, he looks to siphon money from aid. There are crackdowns occasionally, but officials are rarely, if ever, prosecuted.

As Laura drives us back into the colored and white part of Cape Town, we see the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping by those who can afford to do it. We’re getting dropped off at The Two Oceans Aquarium and I’m talking about the work on pollution that 5 Gyres does; we have a display we have at the aquarium. Laura mentions that she’s never been to an aquarium. When she says this, I can’t believe it. She’s educated, she’s a home owner, she makes a living. But the stigma things such as aquariums being for people other than her is pervasive. I tell Laura to park the car and come in with me. She’s like a child in a candy store looking at the sharks. She’s amazed. She’s heard about these creatures but has never seen them. We are together and still worlds apart.

Merry Christmas Laura. You’re an inspiration to the world you serve. And beyond.

Editor’s Note: This is part 9 in a special series. Voyage with Stiv and catch the exclusive each week here at EcoSalon during his months-long journey into the heart of the South Atlantic Gyre and beyond.

Images: Stiv Wilson