Christmas in a red cottage: “Every Christmas, I imagine the whole world has paused for a moment”
At other times of the year, I’m happy to try anything new, but during the Christmas season I gravitate to traditions and only want to surround myself with familiar items, says Kari-Otso Nevaluoma, editor-in-chief for Kotona’s Design & Decoration and Build & Renovate. Step into his cozy Christmas cottage!
“My toes are freezing; I need wool socks right now! Arriving at the cottage for Christmas, I’m hit with an inevitable chill. In winter, depending on the weather, the main room is usually around 5–8 degrees Celsius, this time maybe even lower, so the floors are icy cold. It starts to feel better as soon as the split logs from spruces felled in my own forest crackle away in the wood-burning stove, and steaming glögi fills the mugs. It’s wonderfully quiet. The preparations for Christmas Eve can begin.
There’s always plenty to do to get the cottage ready for the festivities. In addition to heating up the place, one of the first tasks is gathering spruce. Maybe I should, for once, get a big spruce for a Christmas tree instead of settling for the spruce branches we usually lay on the doorstep on Christmas Eve and put in vases alongside tulips. Once again, though, the Christmas tree remains just a dream, because we’ve already decorated an over-two-meter-tall tree in our city home with hundreds of ornaments and dozens of ribbons. And besides, there’s the white plastic tree that was bought sometime in the 1980s. It’s as kitschy as can be, but it’s also one of the many little details without which Christmas wouldn’t feel like Christmas to me.
At other times of the year, I’m happy to try anything new, but during the Christmas season I gravitate to traditions and only want to surround myself with familiar items. I want to, once again, recapture the feeling of Christmases past, taste the familiar flavors, see the familiar decorations, and dine on the familiar dishes that once belonged to my grandparents. I plan to be intoxicated by the scent of gingerbread, cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom, just like always.
Instead of a lively party, I prefer staying quiet and just enjoying the moment. From one Christmas to the next, I imagine that the entire world has paused for a moment and there’s no rush anywhere. I don’t even need music to get into the right mood. At home I do play Christmas carols while cleaning or cooking, but here at the cottage, even music feels unnecessary.”
“Our 1930s log cottage in Pöytyä, near Turku, Finland, has only two rooms, not counting the entryway. The abundance of red—starting from the red-ocher-painted exterior walls—helps in getting in the perfect Christmas Eve mood. How is there so much of it? There’s red in the pillows, the rugs, and the throw, in the kitchen towels and in the enameled cast-iron pot designed by Timo Sarpaneva. I look down at my feet and notice my red felt slippers. I love red, and to me, it’s the only true Christmas color.
But now, my gaze is drawn toward the bedroom and the bottle of Christmas liqueur on the sideboard. Usually, the silver-plated tray holds a couple of empty crystal bottles, plus some liqueur glasses that were found here and there, like on a dumpster in Tallinn. For the festive season, I poured sweet blackcurrant-flavored liqueur into one of the bottles. You can only have a little sip, or else it gets too sweet. Let’s have a taste.
The atmosphere wouldn’t be complete without decorations. Since my city home is more than fully stocked with décor, I like to keep things simpler out here in the countryside. Above the windows, I hang a string of lights that looks almost like a real pine wreath, and I hang snowball ornaments in the main room windows. I’ve made them myself, even though I generally don’t do a lot of crafting. Years ago, I bought dozens of large cotton balls in a clearance sale, intending to make indoor snow lanterns out of them. I did make a few, but also got inspired to tie gift ribbon around each ball and hang them all over. Now those snowball ornaments have become a tradition.”
“Dusk is falling, so I light a few more candles. I see something glowing outside, too. My partner has brought some lanterns from the shed and hung them on both sides of the front door and on the porch of the sauna. The sauna seems to be on—there’s a freshly swept path through the snow, and smoke is rising from the chimney into the crisp winter air. It looks surreal.
When I pull on my coat and peek into the entryway, I almost bump into the one-meter-tall Santa. That’s where he gets to stand this year. We got the Santa from a garden store years ago, and he’s practically become part of the family, even though he disappears into the attic right after the holidays and doesn’t return until the next year. I think I’ll bring him in overnight so he won’t get cold.
I pop over to the neighbor’s house to bring them a Christmas greeting, and then quickly dash back inside. My toes are still cold, so I toss a few more logs into the fire. I begin to prepare dinner. It doesn’t take long, since I did nearly all preparations in advance back in the city. After the sauna, we’ll have a feast of different kinds of salmon, roe with sour cream, and my specialty—Russian-style herring. We’ll have plenty of other treats too, such as meat aspic, but no Christmas ham, which would fill the entire cabin with its smell while cooking. For dessert, I always make prune mousse from whipped cream, quark, sugar, cinnamon, and prune jam. I prepare a big batch so I can sneak to the (red) fridge for a secret treat in the middle of the night.
There are usually lots of chores to be done at the cottage, and we don’t keep a record of the hours of labor—nor the breaks in between, for that matter. But during the short time the place is dressed up for Christmas, we don’t even talk about our usual chores. Gardening, woodworking, and renovation can wait. By about nine in the evening, after the sauna and dinner, I wrap myself in a blanket, pull over a bowl of peanuts and raisins, and dive into a good book—most often one I received as a gift. If it’s bitterly cold, I might need a second pair of wool socks.”
Red and white are the best color pair for a cottage Christmas
- Red and white both have strong associations with various emotional states as well as Christian symbolism. Red is an energizing color of courage, also linked to the Holy Spirit and Christ. White symbolizes purity and freshness and is also the signature color of God, Christ, and angels. Together or individually, they are the primary Christmas colors, and even common decoration shades like gold or silver can’t challenge their status.
- In interior design, red and white can both be a bit tricky. Each one on its own can be overwhelming: a red room can make you lose all sense of time and place, while an all-white room can easily feel cold. Used together, they balance each other out.
- Their synergy is at its best when white takes center stage and red serves as an accent. It’s also a good idea to include a third color to soften the effect. Gray is an excellent choice—even Santa’s elves’ outfits have this color combination. Light wood also works well, adding warmth and harmony.
- Red and white may not be the best color pair for a brand-new, modern home. They’re most at home in an old wooden house—ideally a log house painted with red ocher.
