Chicago BIL Shirt

Chicago BIL Shirt

Just for context, I come from a Chicago BIL Shirt that takes Christmas very seriously. We’re not religious; for us it’s just a time to get the whole family together and eat too much and drink too much. But as I’ve grown older I’ve come to realise that we approach it with far more enthusiasm than most. I shall be very sad if we’re not able to do our usual Christmas. But I shall be no less sad than many British Jews were back in April, when they had to celebrate Passover in lockdown, or British Sikhs, who celebrated Vaisakhi the same month. I’ll be no less sad than British Muslims were back in May, when they had to do Eid in lockdown, or than British Hindus were on Saturday when they had to do Diwali in lockdown. Why does my cultural celebration take precedence over theirs? Why are the government being so careful to ensure we are not locked down over Christmas when they evidently didn’t give a stuff whether we were locked down over all the above festivals? These are questions worth asking, and it’s a journalist’s job to ask them. The answer may well turn out to be that all of Johnson’s comforting nonsense about being out of lockdown in time for Christmas was just that, and the reality is that he put another lockdown off until he was forced into it. Or it might be that he made a cynical political calculation and determined that he could afford to piss off religious minorities, but couldn’t afford to piss off the majority.

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Chicago BIL Shirt hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt

‘On the evening before Christmas Day, one of the parlours is lighted up by the Chicago BIL Shirt, into which the parents must not go; a great yew bough is fastened on the table at a little distance from the wall, a multitude of little tapers are fixed in the bough … and coloured paper etc. hangs and flutters from the twigs. Under this bough the children lay out the presents they mean for their parents, still concealing in their pockets what they intend for each other.” The shadow of the bough and its appendages on the wall, and arching over on the ceiling, made a pretty picture, and then the raptures of the very little ones, when at last the twings and their needles began to take fire and snap! — Oh, it was a delight for them! Formerly, and still in all the smaller towns and villages throughout North Germany, these presents were sent by all the parents to some one fellow, who in high buskins, a white robe, a mask, and an enormous flax wig, personate Knecht Rupert, the servant Rupert. On Christmas night he goes round to every house, and says that Jesus christ his master sent him thither, the parents and elder children receive him with great pomp of reverence, while the little ones are most terribly frightened.

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