The first time Nate Beard attended a “Haggard Holiday Sweater Party” three years ago, the now-21-year-old “felt at home.” In preparation for his first encounter with the flamboyant holiday ritual, Beard purchased a $4 green and red gingerbread man sweater from Goodwill and a bottle of Two-Buck Chuck (another term for cheap Charles Shaw wine) to give his hosts.
“I kind of had a feeling it was right up my alley,” the Lane Community College student and Holy Cow Café employee said. “People were there to celebrate a common thing in that (it) wasn’t so much about Christ, but about celebrating Santa, presents, candy canes and warm fabric. No matter anyone’s faith, everyone can appreciate the gift-giver.”
Gathered with 25 others at his friends’ expansive college abode, Beard ate gingerbread pieces while chasing down glasses of spiked apple cider and wine. He and his friends built a ranch style gingerbread house complete with a pond, fence and cottage woods.
What began as a silly and cheap holiday party theme for college students has now become a fashion phenomenon that involves scouring thrift and consignment stores for ostentatious sweaters. Once considered visually accosting and only appropriate for school teachers or grandmothers’ closets, the over-the-top holiday sweater and its accompanying party have become a fashionista’s must-have seasonal centerpiece, both functional and trendy in an ironic sort of way.
“It’s honoring warmth and health and that you don’t have to be an avid Christian to celebrate consumerism,” Beard, a self-identified Daoist, said. “Although fat, white and very American, the Santa image is pretty hot.”
University senior Jason Nicholas, also an experienced holiday sweater shopper and party attendee, has amassed 25 holiday sweaters since he bought his first glittery number with foam imaging in winter 2005. The group planned a sweater swap, but Nicholas liked his so much that he
temporarily switched with friends instead.
“I like the concept of the parties so that
everyone isn’t worried about being scantily clad to look good,” Nicholas said. “When I lived in Hawaii I had never heard of these, but once I did, it was like a new revelation. It’s fun to reuse holiday sweaters for obnoxious purposes; I like to get new ones for each party.”
Since his inaugural participation in the Haggard Holiday Sweater Party, Beard has frequented numerous parties that have
included up to 80 guests. He dedicates himself to spreading the jolly man’s cheer by donning his digs in December and randomly during the summer months when Eugene’s hot weather threatens his cause.
“I may get some strange glances but I take them proudly,” Beard said. “It’s like my cult. I can’t tell if some people are serious or joking when they wear the sweaters, but I don’t think it matters because they are bringing everyone together and brightening people’s day.”
Like Beard, Nicholas likes to pull out his holiday sweaters throughout the year. He recommends St. Vincent de Paul’s, Antrican and Buffalo Exchange for holiday sweater seekers, while Beard, who loves the wine stains on his sweaters, prefers Value Village, Goodwill and family members’ old sweaters.
“I’m not mocking, it’s legitimate,” Nicholas said. “When I’m out buying these, sometimes I see ladies in them and think ‘God, I wish she was donating that one! You go rock that Christmas sweater, grandma!’ I love when people wear these for serious.”
Unlike Beard and Nicholas, University senior Thea Evenstad hosted an “Ugly Sweater Party” in late November last year not to celebrate the holidays, but to keep party-goers warm in her unheated house. Evenstad bought seven wool sweaters for 50 cents a piece to keep her warm as she commuted three miles to campus via bicycle. She challenged her friends to find one uglier than her bright purple number.
No consensus could be made on who donned the ugliest sweater. Evenstad and her guests baked cupcakes, played the game Balderdash and admired each others’ “degrees of hideousness.” They could see their breath in her freezing apartment but the ugly sweaters served their function.
“I associate thrift shoppers with sweater parties; it’s humorous,” Evenstad said. “But I find branding holidays offending. Seeing Santa on a sweater doesn’t make me happy inside, and the reasons I like the holidays don’t align with the secular sense of the holidays. What I wanted was fun, food, togetherness and warmth.”
Regardless of the sweater genre, parties surrounding the article of clothing are among the most popular for college students during the winter.
On Dec. 5, Beard and his acting group, the Great Miasma, will perform an improv-experimental theater show in the EMU Ben Linder Room and encourages attendees to wear holiday sweaters for reduced admission.
“The holidays can be so heavy around the family,” Beard said, “and, to just embrace the lightness of dressing up? It’s like Halloween in the winter.”