I don’t know what it is about the holidays that makes my planner spread go from “functional chaos” to “emotional scrapbook,” but the shift is real and I will fight anyone who says October layouts don’t slap harder.
Suddenly, I’m out here layering orange foil date covers and ghost deco like I’m being graded on festive joy. I’ll avoid yellow in my planner spreads eleven months out of the year, but the minute spooky season hits, I’m throwing down saturated orange pumpkins with feral glee. And don’t even get me started on December. The deep greens? The berry reds? The dark, cozy blues that look like snow-dusted navy velvet? Peak planner color palette. Zero notes.
Something about the entire season flips a switch in my brain. Planning doesn’t feel like obligation during the holidays — it feels like storytelling. I’m not just writing down appointments or keeping track of how many times I’ve rescheduled the same task (answer: too many). I’m curating a life. With glitter. And tiny illustrated mugs of cocoa.
The stickers get better. The kits get better. The washi gets better. Shops are pulling out their most ridiculous, indulgent, and oddly specific designs, and I am out here screaming “take my money” while adding Victorian ghost cats in Santa hats to my cart. Am I going to a Dickens-themed masquerade ball? No. Am I putting it in my weekly spread anyway? Absolutely.
And the thing is, the holidays bring more structure. Not in the “my life is finally organized” kind of way, but in the “there’s actually stuff happening” kind of way. Planner content feels full because I feel full. There are events, movie nights, seasonal rituals, glitter-bombed mall trips, comfort TV marathons, wrapping paper chaos, themed snacks, and overly ambitious craft projects that definitely will not get finished but look great in the sidebar.
Even my handwriting gets nicer. I start using my “fancy” pens more. I reach for the micro tip fineliners that only make an appearance when I’m being A Serious Planner Girl. I’ll layer vellum dashboards and customized to-do inserts like I’m preparing for a summit, not a Target run.
Holiday planning is immersive. It’s cozy. It’s performative, yes, but in the most self-indulgent, happy way. Like I’m cosplaying as a version of myself who bakes cookies, remembers birthdays, and has a favorite wrapping paper that matches my spreads. (That version of me does not exist. But she looks great in my December TN.)
It’s also when I remember why I love planning in the first place. The tactile joy of stickers and pen-to-paper, the tiny sense of control when the rest of the world feels unhinged. I can’t stop the seasonal panic spiral of family chaos, budget dread, and last-minute gift emergencies. But I can make a really fucking cute checklist for it.
So yes, the holidays make planning more fun. The colors are better. The stickers slap. The cozy chaos of it all pulls me into my paper planner like it’s a warm, peppermint-scented escape hatch. And honestly? I’ll take it. I will deck the spreads and slay the layout game for as long as this glittery high lasts.
Because come January, we all know it’s just a short walk back to the cold, barren wasteland of “functional beige.”
