This was our first year to buy a Christmas tree in NYC.
Makeshift tree farms began springing up all over the city the week of Thanksgiving.
I could hardly wait to get our own.
The first time we attempted to get The Rigo Family Christmas tree, the guy selling them was high as a kite.
Justin asked him if the dimebag was free with purchase of the tree or if it was extra.
Through squinty eyes, he gave a mellow, Oh, I don't know, man.
Not quite the quaint experience I was hoping for, so we decided to try another place.
And I am so glad we did.
The beautiful tree farm. Just regular ole Fraser Firs. No dimebags. The way Christmas should be.
This is Jared. He's from Canada. He was a good tree guy.
As in he was friendly and loved our accents and wasn't high.
Justin and Jared could've chatted it up all night.
But I was really excited to get our little tree home.
Canadian Jared bides his time whittling reindeer. So cute, I know.
J sizing up the tree, I suppose.
I typically go for white lights on our tree, but this year I wanted to change it up.
These big ole colorful vintage bulbs called my name all the way from the Harlem Target.
The back of our apartment, all merry and bright.
A glittery snowflake as a tree topper. Thank you, Tarjay dolla bin.
And a striped little dolla bin tablecloth-turned-tree-skirt.
Some traditional red and green that hasn't actually made it's way to the tree yet.
For now, our sweet little tree stands proudly, simply boasting lights and a skirt and a glittery topper.
Later, I might add some vintage decor...
Think popcorn + cranberry chains and dried orange slices.
Bur for now? I think it's kinda perfect. Sweet and simple and perfect.
With nary a dimebag in sight.