Behind the Magic
If Greta could speak, I imagine She would giggle: “I’m twisty, I’m curvy, I’m sassy today! I’m not like those trees that stand stiff and tall, I bend and I wiggle—I’m having a ball!" She’d whisper of ribbons and ornaments bright, Of hands that shaped her with laughter and light. She’d tell you that beauty is never a race, It’s coaxed with a grin and a touch full of grace.
What She taught me: That craft is a dance, not a straight little line. Each branch was a question, each curl was a sign. She showed me that making is more than a chore— It’s joy in your fingers, it’s fun at the core!
The reaction: A smirk and a guffaw and a knowing nod that it was known this tree was personally approved by the Grinch himself. When I carried her home, oh what a sight! She stood on the table, all curly and bright. Not perfect, not proper, but bursting with cheer— Alive with the giggles and glue from the year.
Greta the Grinchy Glam
Oh Greta the Glam, with a curl so divine,
She wiggles, she wobbles, she laughs at the line!
Not straight, not stiff, not boring or bland—
She’s the sassiest tree in all Whoville land.
She bends and she twists with a mischievous grin,
A bauble that dangles, a sparkle within.
She taught me that Christmas is better with flair,
And a tree with some attitude? Nothing compares!
A Drop-In That Turned Into a Story
Snow fell like whispers outside the florist’s window, softening the edges of a gray December afternoon. Inside, the air was alive with the scent of cedar and fir—a forest reborn in miniature.
We didn’t plan this. It was a drop-in session, a spontaneous decision fueled by curiosity and the promise of something whimsical. My daughter and I stood before a table scattered with greenery, ribbons, and ornaments, ready to coax a little mischief into holiday tradition.
The Birth of Greta
Greta was born slowly, with a stubborn streak. At first, she looked more like a confused shrub than a glamorous holiday rebel. But then came the curl—the dramatic swoop that defied gravity—and suddenly, Greta had attitude. A single bold ornament dangled like a secret, and she wore it with pride.
The Grinch tree is not a tree that stands tall and proud. It bends, it curves, it rebels against symmetry. It’s a wink at the season—a reminder that joy doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.
Outside, the snow kept falling. Inside, we made something that felt like ours: a tree with sass, a tree with soul, a tree named Greta.
A Few Lessons from Greta
Perfection is overrated. Lean into the awkward phase—it’s part of the charm.
Gravity is your friend. Let the bend happen naturally.
If your ornament falls off, consider it a festive game of hide-and-seek.
Why Greta Matters
This is not just décor. It’s a story in green and red, a memory shaped by hands and laughter. And maybe that’s the real gift—something crooked, something joyful, something shared.
Thank you for the workshop @petitepetalcompany
It’s a curated experience—a place where wild beauty truly meets refined artistry.
feral
It's these moments that make us who we are
What This Means for L’atelier Sauvage
It’s these kinds of workshops—these moments of learning, listening, and honoring—that shape what L’atelier Sauvage is. We are not just makers; we are gatherers of stories, seekers of heritage, and believers that beauty begins with connection. Every piece we create carries this philosophy: that art is not made—it is remembered.