Moving to the East Coast in the middle of fall was already an adventure, but nothing prepared me for my first holiday season in my new home. I’d only been here for two months, and most of that time was spent traveling, so the holidays were my first real chance to settle in and settle down—or at least try to.
Let’s start with the wardrobe situation. Coming from Los Angeles, my idea of winter clothes was, well, optimistic at best. A darling coworker had kindly helped me transition into fall with a few essentials, but the idea of holiday attire somehow escaped my planning. I had no warm festive clothing, so I layered up like a snowman trying to stay warm. And when I say snowman, I mean it literally—I looked like I’d gained 20 pounds in layers. But hey, I was determined to be festive!
And then there were the shoes. Back in L.A., footwear was an art form. My closet overflowed with sandals, stilettos, and open-toed masterpieces. Cold-weather boots? I had one pair, and there was no way I was wearing them with my gorgeous red holiday dress. So, I slipped on my fabulous open-toed heels and strutted into the holiday party like I was on the runway. I must have been a sight to behold: a glamorously layered snowman with ice-cold toes. It didn’t snow, thank goodness, but it was bitterly cold, and by the end of the night, I genuinely wondered if frostbite was a possibility.
Adjusting to East Coast holiday traditions was another adventure. Back in California, we never decorated our cars for Christmas, so imagine my delight when I started spotting vehicles with antlers, mistletoe, and wreaths. I was instantly smitten. Off to the store I went, determined to join in the fun. My decorating skills needed some work, though. I ended up buying a reindeer hat—complete with antlers, of course—and wore it while driving with my sunroof open. Picture an SUV cruising along, antlers poking out of the top. That was me, spreading holiday cheer and probably a few laughs along the way.
Then there was the weather. Cold weather in California means anything below 65 degrees. I remember making a business call to Cali during a particularly chilly East Coast day. As I waited on hold, the announcer’s voice came on and said, “It’s going to be really cold tonight, in the 60’s, so bring in your plants and animals to keep them from freezing to death.” I laughed out loud. Sixty degrees! I was standing in weather that could practically freeze water.
But the absolute best part of that first Christmas wasn’t the decorations or the wardrobe mishaps. It was the people. My new friends—while laughing at the absurdity of a clueless Cali girl moving east—were incredibly patient, thoughtful, and kind. They made me feel welcome in ways I’ll never forget. My Christmas gifts that year? All practical. Scarves, hats, gloves, and even a pair of dress heels—the closed-toe variety. They knew I had a lot to learn, and they made sure I was ready for whatever winter had in store.
Looking back, my first East Coast Christmas was a lesson in humility, adaptation, and the warmth of new friendships. Sure, I may have been clueless, but I was also surrounded by people who made sure my first holiday season away from California was one to remember—frostbite and all.