I’ve always felt that in the holiday decoration department, Thanksgiving kind of gets the short shrift. I mean, there’s “fall décor.” You know…leaves and pumpkins and little decorative haystacks. And while those are great, where are the blown-glass wishbones, the light-up Plymouth Rocks, and the giant inflatable Sarah Josepha Hales? (Deep cut. Google it.)
Admittedly, those things all sound terrible. And while you can buy the odd turkey-themed item, I’m the crafty sort, and this year I decided to make a Thoroughly Thanksgiving-y Decoration.
When did I decide this, you might ask? Why, the night before Thanksgiving, of course! “But Melanie!” you exclaim. “How will you ever get the inspiration for a Thoroughly Thanksgiving-y Decoration in just one evening?”
Aha, my friends. I’m glad you asked. I don’t need inspiration! I have Dennison’s Party Magazine.
Now, if you’ve never heard of the Dennison Manufacturing Company, you’re not alone. I hadn’t either, until I found a copy of this magazine in the stacks of the central library. The Framingham Historical Society website filled me in, though, and now I can’t believe I was ever such an ignorant cuss.
Aaron Dennison was a jeweler and watchmaker in the 1840s. He wanted better boxes for his wares, so he and his dad and his brother formed a company that made the first jeweler’s boxes in America, and while they were at it, they invented that cotton stuff you put in jewelry boxes, too. The company then spent the next 150 years doing things like making the first sticky paper in the United States, creating the concept of gift wrap, and inventing those little gummed circles you stick around the holes of loose-leaf paper. They also initiated the process of the autoclave, made the first sequential bar codes for the USPS, and created those plastic things that hold price tags onto clothes. HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS COMPANY??? But the most amazing thing is that for a few years in the late 20s and early 30s, they put out Dennison’s Party Magazine, the sole purpose of which seems to be to suggest ways to use the crepe paper that they invented. Oh by the way THEY INVENTED CREPE PAPER.
This particular issue is from the fall of 1928, so it encompasses Halloween parties, Thanksgiving parties, Columbus Day parties, Harvest Parties, and, inexplicably, a Prison Party. (A suit box covered in crepe paper makes a darling penitentiary tower, apparently.) I was first grabbed by the Halloween section. I mean, look at these costumes! It’s amazing how sensational a person can look in a costume made of nothing more than 2 Folds Orange Crepe Paper, 3 Folds Black Crepe Paper, and 2 Doz. No. 9 Wire. Unfortunately, I was unable to make this costume for myself, as “Detailed instructions for making any of the costumes illustrated may be had by writing the nearest Dennison Store”, so I think I’m out of luck.
And maybe that’s just as well. Those costumes are only illustrations, so it’s hard to say what they’d look like in real life. But the Dennison Company got real with its Owl and The Pussycat costumes. Here’s the sketch…
…and here are the costumes.
No amount of crepe paper can disguise the sadness radiating from that poor pussycat. And then there are these Tall and Short costumes, for when you just don’t care anymore.
So I started to look more closely for truth in advertising. How about this idea for decorating a gymnasium, for example?
In Dennison’s own words “A frieze of Decorated Crepe Paper is most effective, and Festoons of deep-hanging fringe can be attached at intervals from the beams.” And there’s this lovely illustration on Page 22. But sneak back to page 11, and…
What is even happening here? It IS Halloween-y, in that it looks exactly like when you carve open a pumpkin and all the innards are hanging down from the top. I didn’t take any of Dennison’s advice when decking my Halloween Halls.
But here it is, the night before Thanksgiving. My family has had kind of a tough week, we’re all a little blue, and I thought our tiny group might benefit from the arrival of a thoroughly ridiculous and Dennisonian delight. So I started paging through the Thanksgiving suggestions.
Hmm… Well, there’s this Mayflower Squash, which is actually pretty awesome, and has the added bonus of being consumable, but I don’t have that shape of squash, and I can’t possibly go to the store the night before Thanksgiving, so that’s out.
There are these saucy little Pilgrim People made of lollipops. But we’re not really much of a hard candy family, and I have no faith in my ability to make a lollipop pilgrim look that much like Betty Boop, so I keep looking.
Now it starts to get weird. There’s this guy. The magazine says “Did you ever try making grotesque folks of raisins, candy and such?” No, Dennison. No, I did not. And I don’t aim to start now.
Then they suggest this. A Pilgrim Cradle. What? What is that? Listen, I busted out Sarah Josepha Hale, so I’m obviously an expert on Thanksgiving, and I’ve never heard of a Pilgrim Cradle, so it’s clearly not a thing. I’m getting a little desperate when I come upon this.
A cornucopia. Okay! That’s definitely a thing. And you fill it with food, which is my favorite SORT of thing. Dennison’s says “Even the horn of plenty may take on a modernistic shape. Made of cardboard covered with metallic crepe paper, it will form a lovely centerpiece.” Well, there you go! It’s going to be lovely! Dennison’s said so, and they wouldn’t lie! They invented autoclaving, for Pete’s sake! And the best part is, there’s no writing to my local Dennison’s store, as “A diagram pattern and instructions are on page 17.”
On page 17, I’m shown a tiny pattern and told to size it up. I go to the basement to get some butcher paper, and get to work. Dennison’s says “You will find that it is very easy to make a correctly proportioned pattern in this way.” Dennison’s has clearly never met me before. I’m barely out of the first square before I screw up.
But I get it done, more or less. It looks a lot like the pattern the Grinch uses to make his Santa hat, but it’s early still.
I now have to trace the pattern onto cardboard. I go back downstairs to get a box to cut up. One giant X-Acto knife jab to the dining table later, and I’m set. Now I’ve got to cover it with gold metallic paper. Back down to the basement for some Christmas tissue. The magazine says to “Crush the gold metallic paper by placing it on a table or other smooth surface and taking up a small portion between the thumbs and fingers of both hands and crushing it tightly.” That seems like a lot of words to tell me how to crumple paper. Maybe skip that and tell me how to make the darned bat costume, Dennison! But never mind. I crumple on my smooth surface (or what was a smooth surface before I jabbed it with the X-Acto knife) and move onwards.
Now I need a 5” square box. Down to the basement again. (No, I will NOT read all the directions ahead of time!) The box isn’t 5” square, but I don’t run a paper box factory, so I figure it’s close enough. Next I’m told to paste gold paper to everything, and then fasten the sides to the box with brass brads, which I keep UPSTAIRS! I’m on fire!!!!!
Now I’m supposed to glue the points together, but I’m too lazy to sit and hold them while they dry, so I binder clip them together while I eat some dinner and listen to Thanksgiving music. (Yeah, I don’t know what that is either. I just listened to The Carpenters and Acker Bilk.) When I come back from dinner I look at my cornucopia and I realize…it looks REALLY stupid. Like, not even fun “cheer up the family” stupid, but just straight up dumb.
But never mind. It still gets a ribbon bow (from the basement), and sprays of fall leaves (from the yard), so that will probably help, right? And once there are vegetables spilling out from it, it will surely look terrific! Vegetables ALWAYS looks great, right Dennison?
Oh dear.
Well, the horn of plenty is done. Naturally I set it up to best effect on my mantle, surrounded by more leaves and vegetables and a silly paper turkey I made another year that I got a Thanksgiving-decoration bee in my bonnet. And it all just looks ridiculous.
BUT… As I sit here writing at the kitchen table, looking at this silly thing, I realize…I really like it. It does exactly what Thanksgiving is supposed to do, which is remind me how much I have to be grateful for. I have so much food, I can afford to use it for decoration, and then just give it to my amazing parents, who love me in spite of (and maybe even because of) the fact that I’m going to show up at their house with a “modern” centerpiece copied from a 90 year old advertising publication. So I guess I’m probably the luckiest girl in the whole U.S.A.
Thanks, Dennison. And Happy Thanksgiving.