Growing up, Christmas was not complete without Christmas cloth. Forget carols, forget rice and chicken, if you didn’t have a new cloth, were you even celebrating Christmas? As children, we knew one thing, no cloth, no confidence.
I remember those days my mom would threaten us with Christmas clothes and we could literally cry the whole day because she said she wasn't going to buy us new clothes if we don't take our drugs or maybe don't do chores.
We always had this in mind long before December arrived. From early December, the question was always the same, “Have they bought our Christmas clothes?” If the answer was “next week,” that week felt longer than the whole year. And God forbid your parents said, “You’ll wear the one you wore last year.” That statement alone could spoil your entire mood. I will cry… Infact it was traumatizing 😅
Once the cloth finally arrived, the next struggle began, DON’T WEAR IT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. This was the hardest rule in history. You could try it on once, just to check the size, but after that? Pack it well. Truth be told, I and my siblings never kept to this rule, anytime my mom was away, we would sneak to where they were hidden and test them again to see if it still fits.
Christmas morning itself was a fashion competition disguised as a holiday. We woke up early, ironed the cloth, even if it needed not to be ironed, we did it like your life depended on it, and stepped out feeling like a celebrity.
Even if the cloth was simple, the confidence was loud. You walked slowly so people could see it properly. Some of us even changed clothes twice in one day, morning cloth and evening cloth, because why not?
Then there were the comparisons. Someone always had a better shoe, a louder color, or a cloth that looked like it came straight from heaven. Some kids that year could cry ‘cos a friend told them that their dress was finer. But I didn't care for long because everyone was happy. The streets were full of children smiling, posing, and pretending not to notice each other while secretly checking who dressed better.
What made it funnier was that Christmas cloth was usually the only new outfit for months. After Christmas, it suddenly became “special occasion wear.” You’d hear, “Don’t wear it anyhow, that’s your Christmas cloth” By March, it had attended birthdays, weddings, and even Sunday school.
Looking back now, it’s hilarious how serious we took it. But it also meant something. Our parents went through stress just to make sure we felt special, even for one day.
My childhood Christmas cloth wasn’t just clothing, it was joy, pride, and December cruise packed into one outfit. And honestly, no matter how old we get, December still whispers, “Where is your Christmas cloth?” But it's sad how no one has even planned to buy me a Christmas cloth, not even myself.
This is why I soo miss my childhood, maybe I could just run back to those old sweet days. Just maybe 🤔
Thank you for reading