What's the most surprising winner in TikTok's crazy attention economy? Not the blue nail theory. Nor the discovery that Ina Garten has eaten the same breakfast for a decade. Not even the continued domination of celebrity naked dressing (at PureWow, we thought this would be passé by now). Props to all these essential lifestyle stories, but the most interesting social media focus these days is #etiquette—with around 150, 000 posts explaining manners and how to act.
So in the spirit of sharing and caring, I'm here to add my personal etiquette tips for my holiday table. My rules are less "bring a hostess gift" (although I think NA beverages are of-the-moment) and more STFU. Not going to sugar coat it—I am not in the mood for any hard feelings around my holiday table this year. Think of this as my version of the no-politics wedding trend, in which I am instituting a stealth campaign of faux civility to the holidays. Look, if you want to deep dive into the true histories of Thanksgiving and other seasonal commemorations, I invite you to pull me aside and we can swap reading lists. But honestly, you're not going to change Uncle Ernie's mind about social justice during an hour-long meal, and I did not plan, shop and cook for days just to have hostile words and misremembered podcast opinions casting a pall on my white tablecloth.
Instead, I want to keep the holidays as they are meant to be, gatherings where family members gossip about relatives’ disease diagnoses, ask you why you're not married/having a baby yet and swap anodyne sports and celeb news involving Taylor Swift and Denzel. Look, I’ve spent much of my life marching, fostering conflict and plain-old yelling (then as I mellowed/aged a bit, conversing) about politics. However everything is just so fraught these days, so…is it too much to ask to make my little tablecloth a DMZ for the day, a no-fly zone for angry talk?



