DIY or BUY: Advent Calendars
Time to test the theory that DIY is “less expensive.”
I’ve always wanted to have certain skills: the skill to maintain and repair my car; the skill to construct furniture, particularly bookcases; the skill to fix my computer when something goes awry. One could easily mistake “self-sufficiency” as the motivation behind my desires. It’s always good to be able to do something yourself and not to have to rely on others.
But that’s not what it’s about at all. Every single one of my DIY impulses is based on a single truth about myself: I am cheap, and I believe that doing things myself can save me a ton of money. If I were crazy rich, I would not only lose all interest in these skills, I would go full Downton Abbey and never do anything for myself again. Zippers and buttons, combs and laces, pots and pans — I would quickly unlearn how to use these things. People are inherently lazy and are only compelled to do things for themselves by societal or financial pressure. Have you ever met a billionaire who washes his own clothes? No. No, you have not.
“But, Kati,” you protest, “if that’s true, why is my Pinterest page full of dreamy, beautiful DIY projects? Why am I getting ready to make every last one of my Christmas gifts this year, thoughtful gorgeous little trinkets that the recipients will treasure in their hearts until their dying day?”
Ah, the mass delusion that is DIY gifts, wherein we lie to ourselves that the reason we make homemade gifts for our family and friends is because such presents will be more special, more personal—and hide the truth that we are as reluctant as Scrooge to part with our hard-earned cash, even on Black Friday.
I’m not here to judge you, but I am here to test this theory that DIY is less expensive, a theory that we all have but don’t talk about in the hopes that we can continue to fool our loved ones with crocheted potholders. After all, why go through the nightmare of crafting if it turns out to cost way more money than just buying something online in your pajamas? Each week until Christmas, I’ll “do it myself” to get to the truth and possibly save you some money, time, and, most importantly, energy.
First up: DIY Advent Calendars.
Several years ago when I moved to Los Angeles, my mother, who might actually be one of the few non-crazy non-hipsters who legitimately enjoys crafting for its own sake, made me a personalized Advent calendar. I have a mild obsession with Advent calendars, so she put together a wooden board with little squares on hooks that represented December 1–25 (she insists Advent calendars should have 25 days instead of the standard 24 — I might have to take back the “non-crazy”). When you turned each square over, the reverse side featured a photo of me or a family member. The calendar was thoughtful, touching, and quite lovely.
This year, my mom decided it was time she made an Advent calendar for my youngest sister, and enlisted me in the effort. Since my sister lives near my mother, the project wouldn’t be less about creating a terrific sense of guilt and longing in her daughter than a way for my mom to relieve her boredom. After showing me a few pictures of fancy DIY Advent calendars on Pinterest, or, as I like to call it, “internet proof that The Secret doesn’t work,” my mother sent me to Michaels with the vague direction of buying whatever I thought would work best.
Michaels may be “Where Creativity Happens” for some people, but for me it’s where anxiety happens. I only found one wooden Advent-ready frame in my local store, and it didn’t have an empty central area like the frames my mom had seen on Pinterest. There were also no simple, plain wooden or cardboard boxes in which to wrap festive paper. I searched the store bottom to top twice and, after 90 minutes of failing my mother, called her to tell her we’d have to come back the next day together. She was like, “Okay.”
After our second visit—I was worried that my mom would immediately find a plain wooden box that I had somehow overlooked, but thankfully she did not—we settled on pre-decorated small gift boxes, which we decided to attach together in a tree shape. We also bought wooden glue, along with a wooden stamp set and ink to print the dates on the boxes.
With coupons and sales, the total cost of the Advent calendar materials (not including the 25 little gifts we have to make or buy to put inside said calendar) was $30.73. The stamps turned out to be a waste of money because the ink was washable and kept smudging, but that’s why God invented paper towels and Sharpies.
In the end you can make a DIY calendar for far less money and, more importantly, far less time than we did. The internet is full of tiny bags clothespinned to strings selling themselves as proper calendars, and those are perfectly fine. But making a real, fancy-ass calendar requires a little more cash and a lot of waiting-for-glue-to-dry-related patience. If you’re not doing it on your own and can make a parental unit do the heavy lifting, that makes all the difference. Did we mess up one of the boxes so it’s really hard to take the lid off without breaking the whole tree? Yes. But so far our Advent calendar can stand on its own on a flat surface, and that’s more than I ever expected. Also, I’ll be honest — it just straight up looks good.
Still, since the surprises we’re going to have to get for the insides of the calendar will easily put us over $50, it might not be worth it. You could just as easily buy the 27-year-old female in your life one of those $25 Advent calendars with high-end chocolate inside and she’d likely appreciate it as much as my sister will the tree we made her.
So, DIY or BUY? Verdict: Toss-up. If you’re on your own, I would go with buying, but if you can share the labor and cost, go ahead and DIY.
Next week, we’ll bait readers from Brooklyn and Silver Lake by seeing how infusing one’s own alcohol and putting it in mason jars goes.
