Every year in the month of December, I start to get nostalgic about the years I spent celebrating Christmas in Chicago. The memory of my first Christmas party in the city always brings a smile to my face for so many reasons. Hosted by the company I worked for, it was a fairly intimate evening since at the time we probably had approximately 50 employees. Most people brought their spouse or a date so while it wasn’t small, it was the smallest office party that I ended up attending.
Fresh off the boat and living in the city, I was nervous about driving to a Western suburb that I was completely foreign to. With the days being short in December, no GPS, nobody I could ask for a ride and with snow flurries that I was experiencing for the first time in my life, I plucked up every ounce of courage in my body and made my way to a beautiful party hall in a poorly lit suburb.
The dress code was black tie and having only the one suit that I had brought from India, which had been worn for every interview and to every meeting that required me to wear a suit, there was no way in the world that I was about to also wear it to our Christmas party. Our office was located across the very upscale Oakbrook Mall and having only been in the US for about 4 months, I didn’t know much about where to shop etc. A colleague who had become a friend, walked across to the mall with me but all the stores there were way out of my league as a fresh migrant who had only recently started working.
Eventually I went to the party in a black and red sweater that I picked up from The Gap with black dress pants and shoes that I wore to work everyday. It was probably the last time I was underdressed for any occasion. I remember walking in awkwardly and while everyone looked incredibly sharp in their suits and cocktail dresses, they never once made me feel like a freak in a sweater! The word of the evening at our table, after a couple of drinks, was ‘marvellous’ and every once in a while one of the ladies would come up to me and say ‘you look marvellous darling’, until we all started saying it to each other. The phrase ending up being stuck with us for a fairly long while. One of those things that I’ll never forget and still makes me grin.
As the years went by, December was all about attending Christmas parties, exchanging gifts, eating way, way, wayyy too much sugar, fighting traffic and crowds to buy gifts, parking much too far from the mall entrance on snowy days, the family dinner on Christmas day and of course the annual office Christmas party.
I don’t have much recollection of most of the holiday parties that the company threw, but I do remember the last one, eleven years later. This one was a daytime affair at a large, beautiful home, that looked like it was straight out of a fairy tale. By this time I had a closet full of sharp suits but ironically, the dress code was ‘smart casual’. Maybe I should have worn a suit to make up for my first year there!
The dress code may have been casual but the food and liquor were of the highest class, with the serving staff passing around oysters, jumbo shrimp and caviar amongst other decadent h’ordeuvres, the buffet table laid out with a huge main course and of course more desserts than we could ever eat. My ‘farewell’ Christmas party was truly one that I would never forget.
The food however, was not what made that party especially memorable. With all the liquor flowing, many of us were ridiculously drunk in a couple of hours (there’s just no polite way to say it). And since I was leaving the country shortly after, I was as obnoxiously drunk as I could possibly be. To the point where, when Terry, our COO came out to give a speech, I would keep interrupting him, until he invited me to the podium and probably asked me to shut up in the nicest way he could. I don’t remember what he said to me but as a much loved employee, I’m sure there were no swear words. It’s one of the most embarrassing afternoons of my life but if you had been there, you would know that its a story that deserves to be shared!
Every year, as Christmas gets close, I bring out my fake Christmas tree, add some red to the apartment, put up string lights and make it as festive as I can. This year my man Friday and I made some fudge, reminding me of my colleague and friend, Evelyn, who I used to call ‘the fudge lady’. When I moved back to India, she wanted to send me a box for Christmas but I refused to give her my address as it would cost way too much. A few years later when I was having my New York adventure, she made me happy with a big batch of her famous fudge.
I could go on and on with all the memories I have of Christmas in Chicago and the friends who made the holiday season so special for me during those eleven years that I lived there. It warms my heart each time I think of the laughs, the love and even the turkey. I was also always extremely pampered with gifts and one year when boxes of presents were literally spilling out of my office, my friend Elsa stopped by, rolled her eyes and said, “I don’t understand why so many people love you.” Which of course was a complete lie since she was the one who referred to me as her ‘beloved’.
To all my friends and family, who have given me more than my share of love, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
