My grandmother, Bootsie, wore skirts, heels, hose, herringbone blazers and chic, wide leather belts when she went out to lunch every day. Bootsie carried a small, silver flask of gin in her handbag and she’d jazz up her lunchtime martini with quick, covert douses.
Grandma Boots believed in gin (very dry, up with a twist), classic fashion, statement belts and the obvious health benefits of sneaking a single piece of chocolate in the late afternoon. Boots had mad stashes of chocolate hidden around her house which may have been how she got the idea to make an Easter Tree.
I think I’m the only member of my blown apart family who loved (and remembers) Bootsie’s Easter Tree tradition. I thought it was genius. Still do.
The Easter Tree is a casual, bohemian, chocolate stashin’ relative of other arborous holiday décor. An Easter Tree requires no big whoop, no stress. You can use a houseplant like Bootsie did when she started this awesome tradition. Houseplant plus ribbon plus chocolate tied onto houseplant with ribbon equals Easter Tree. Done.
You can use branches, drink umbrellas and kitchen string. No worries. Got it? Decorate with it!
Pretty little things should appear on and around the tree…you know…whenever you come across something pretty and feel like adding onto your tree.
The tree shall bloom and those blooms shall be chocolate.
When other family members get bent up about religions and start dissing Easter just call it a Spring Tree and carry on. Chocolate is a religion.
You could totally spend an hour with an origami instruction booklet trying to make a pig from a square of pink paper that’s softening along refolded seams. It’ll be that je nais c’est pas your tree was pining for. Plus Spring is best enjoyed with a jazzed-up martini on the deck and that whole origami thing will give you something to fidget with during happy hour.
The Easter Tree should be fun, sweet, whimsical and absolutely NOT formal or fussy.
Grandma Boots always preferred the Easter Tree to the Christmas one. Everyone would complement the big-ass, bauble-loaded Christmas tree and she’d always say, “I like my little Easter Tree best.” And then no-one would remember that we had an awesome and genius houseplant that morphed into an Easter Tree every Spring…except me.
Later Grandma Boots and I would agree on the superiority of The Easter Tree while nibbling mad-stash chocolate in the kitchen and wondering if anyone would help us untangle the Christmas tinsel they claimed to love so much.
Dear Grandma Bootsie…spirited chocolate and pretty little things whisper your name while bright green stems break ground. I remember you.
I drape my navy blue blazer over my shoulders when I get a chill because you always did that blazer-drapey thing and you were so damn chic. I got you, Bootsie. I buy a well-fitting blazer every fall and one excellent belt per year. I shall maintain your sweet and classically stylish traditions. When I hit sixty I’m totally buying a flask.
Happy Springtime, people! Happy mad-stash, Bootsie-worthy chocolate! Happy Easter Tree…because chocolate is so much better than tangled tinsel. Represent!