Holy C(w)rap!

It's a forty+ year tradition. It's crazy. It's wrapping paper. Every year, my mom wraps one gift for each person with this amazing and seemingly endless supply of paper. Well, it's not really wrapping paper, it's the surplus from old matchbook print transfers from the 1940's and 1950's.

 

(similar match book transfer
photo from ebay.com seller : rapcollect)

My grandma's friend stole, took these rolls when the factory decided to close it's doors on Allen St. in Hudson, NY. Upcylcers and re-purposers rejoice, right? If you look closely, it's cellophane and the print transfer is backward and rolled outside in, like architectural plans.

 

There is not a Christmas that I remember not having to give a little more muscle to rip open the unintended cover all for our gifts. Wrapping with it is a bit of a challenge too. It doesn't fold easily, and it gets all over your hands. It is, after all, a transfer, but after all, it's tradition.

 

My mother commented today that maybe it's made with real gold. I said, perhaps a carcinogen.

 

Regardless, the truth is, this paper will most likely outlast us all. Long after I am gone, maybe Gil's wife will carefully be selecting a gift for Nate's child to wrap with this, and wonder why and how this stuff keeps kicking around. Maybe the stories will stick, and maybe we will find the actual matchbooks that are allegedly in the house somewhere. In the meantime, may your family traditions burn strong and your wrapping paper be easy to tear.