Christmas at The Shop: A Little Magic. A Lot of Madness.

I have a confession.

It's October, and I've already been thinking about Christmas for approximately 10 months.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I probably never stopped thinking about it.

While most normal people are recovering from the holidays in January, I'm walking miles of showroom floors at market, looking at Christmas trees, ornaments, ribbons, garlands, and approximately 47 versions of something I absolutely do not need but suddenly cannot live without.

Vendor after vendor. Floor after floor. For an entire week.

I'm looking at what's new, what's different, what I think people will love, what I know people will love, and what I can convince myself they'll love if I just figure out how to display it.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I start imagining what Christmas at The Shop could look like next year.

That's usually when the trouble begins.

Because I don't know how to do anything halfway.

And apparently, neither does my team.

Eight Years of Christmas. Eight Years of Questioning My Sanity.

This October 24th will mark our eighth holiday launch at The Shop.

EIGHT.

You'd think by now we'd have it figured out. A little rinse and repeat. Pull out last year's decorations, move a few things around, add some pretty new ornaments, and call it Christmas.

That would be adorable.

It's also not remotely how this works.

Every year, I want it to feel different. Bigger isn't necessarily better, but more magical? More unexpected? More memorable?

Absolutely.

I want someone who's been coming since our first holiday season to walk through the doors and still have that moment of Oh. My. Gosh.

And I want someone who's never heard of us to walk in and wonder how on earth this exists in Granite Bay.

So we start over. Again.

We literally redraw the store in CAD. Yes, actual architectural drawings. For Christmas.

We rethink the flow, the displays, the collections, the furniture, the lighting, and how everything will work together. We figure out what needs to be built, what needs to move, what we can reuse, and what new idea I've come up with that will inevitably make someone on my team stare at me in silence.

I've learned that silence usually means one of two things.

Either they love it.

"Or they're wondering why they didn't stop me three ideas ago."

Sometimes both.

The North Pole Has a Shipping Department. And It's Not Pretty.

Here's something most people don't realize.

Christmas starts arriving at The Shop in June.

JUNE.

While you're planning summer vacations and figuring out how to survive another Sacramento heat wave, we're receiving boxes of Christmas ornaments.

And they keep coming.

July. August. September. October.

More trees. More ribbon. More candles. More everything.

And someone has to receive it, open it, inspect it, count it, organize it, tag it, store it, locate it again, unpack it, price it, and get it onto the floor.

That someone is our inventory team – they are angels that were sent to me – grateful. 

And while the rest of us are dreaming about twinkling lights and magical displays, they're living a slightly different version of the North Pole.

Because here's the thing.

The mail. Never. Stops.

Not the Christmas deliveries. Not the everyday furniture deliveries. Not the special orders. Not the normal business that apparently has the audacity to continue operating while we're trying to create a winter wonderland.

Our inventory team is performing an Olympic-level balancing act, and I genuinely don't know how they do it.

Actually, I do.

A lot of hard work, a lot of patience, and probably a few things said under their breath that are best left out of this blog.

Fair.

It Takes a Village. And Apparently Multiple Shifts.

Right now, we're working seven days a week to get ready for October 24th.

Seven.

We're running multiple shifts. Our retail team is all in. Our inventory team is all in. Even our residential interior designers join the Christmas chaos.

And I LOVE that.

These are incredibly talented people who spend their days designing homes, solving complicated problems, and creating beautiful spaces for our clients.

Then October rolls around, and suddenly they're fluffing trees, styling displays, and debating whether a particular ornament needs to move three inches to the left.

It probably does.

There's something wonderful about watching the entire team come together for this. Different departments, different responsibilities, different personalities, all working toward one slightly insane vision.

And somehow, in the middle of the exhaustion, there's laughter.

Music playing. People singing. Someone dancing. Someone else looking like they might throw a garland at me.

It's festive. It's creative. It's chaotic.

It's our version of the North Pole.

And the best part? It's not just our regular team.

Every year, we bring in seasonal help. Local moms. College students. Sons and daughters of our own employees. People from our community who become part of this crazy little Christmas family.

Our handyman has even built custom installations for this year's holiday floral experience and ornament shop.

Think about that for a second.

These aren't displays that magically arrive from some giant corporate warehouse, ready to assemble with instructions and an Allen wrench.

They're dreamed up, designed, built, painted, installed, decorated, and brought to life by real people. Many of whom live right here.

In a very real way, Christmas at The Shop is built by our community, for our community.

And that means more to me than I can probably put into words.

Meanwhile, at My Actual House...

Now, you might assume that someone who spends 10 months a year thinking about Christmas has a home that looks like it belongs on the cover of a holiday magazine.

Perfectly coordinated trees. Beautifully styled mantels. Elegant garlands. A tasteful, cohesive color palette.

Nope.

By the time I've poured my entire Christmas soul into The Shop, there isn't always a whole lot left for my own house.

Thankfully, I have a 15-year-old son who has enough Christmas spirit for approximately six families.

Jake has loved Christmas since he was little, and somewhere along the way, I did something that might surprise you.

I handed over creative control.

Completely.

No design direction. No brand guidelines. No carefully curated color story.

Which, if you know me, is a fairly significant act of personal growth.

Does everything match? Absolutely not.

Is some of it gaudy? You bet.

Have I looked at certain decorating decisions and silently questioned every instinct I have as an interior designer?

Frequently.

But I let him run with it.

Because the joy he gets from Christmas is so much bigger than whether the ornaments coordinate.

His decorating ritual starts with a record player. Yes, an actual record player. Twelve-inch vinyl records. Christmas music fills the house, and off he goes.

And honestly, it's one of my favorite things.

Although I should probably mention that I heard Christmas music coming from his bathroom while he was showering.

In AUGUST.

August, people.

Apparently, this is hereditary.

And as much as I might cringe at some of his decorating choices, I wouldn't change a thing.

Because Jake reminds me of something that's easy to forget when you're obsessing over every detail of a holiday installation.

Christmas isn't supposed to be perfect. It's supposed to make you feel something.

And that's exactly what I want for The Shop.

So Why Do We Do All of This?

It's a fair question.

Especially around 10 p.m., when someone's still hanging ornaments, we're moving furniture for the third time, and I've just announced that I have one more little idea.

(For the record, my team has learned that there is no such thing as one little idea.)

We do it because I believe there's something special about creating a place where people can forget about everything else for a little while.

A place where you walk through the doors and suddenly feel like a kid again.

Where you hear the music, see the lights, smell the candles, and find yourself smiling before you've even figured out why.

I want families to come together. I want friends to make an afternoon of it. I want someone to bring their mom, their daughter, their best friend, or the person who needs a little extra holiday cheer this year.

I want people to wander. To laugh. To discover something unexpected. To take pictures. To make memories.

And I want our community to feel like this is their holiday tradition, too.

Of course, we're a store. We have beautiful things, and yes, we'd love for you to fall in love with them.

But this event has never been just about shopping for me.

It's about that feeling you get when the holidays are finally here.

The anticipation. The nostalgia. The traditions. The people.

The magic.

The same magic that makes a 15-year-old boy put on Christmas records in August.

That's the part I want to bottle up and share with everyone who walks through our doors.

October 24th. The Big Reveal.

After months of planning, thousands of decisions, mountains of boxes, endless rearranging, multiple shifts, and an extraordinary amount of love from our team, we finally get to open the doors.

On Saturday, October 24th, from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., we're inviting our community to celebrate the launch of our seventh holiday season at The Shop.

We'll have our largest holiday collection yet, including our new holiday floral experience, ornament shop, Christmas trees, wreaths, beautiful décor, gifts, candles, dining, entertaining essentials, and plenty of surprises.

Our friends at The Horseshoe Bar will be joining us with complimentary coffee and holiday cocktails from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.

And the entire team will be there, probably running on caffeine, adrenaline, and an unreasonable amount of Christmas spirit.

You don't need to buy a thing to be part of it.

Just come.

Bring someone you love. Bring someone who loves Christmas. Bring someone who claims they don't love Christmas. We particularly enjoy those people.

Walk around. Take it all in. Say hello.

And if you see someone from our team standing quietly in a corner staring at a Christmas tree, please don't worry.

They're probably just trying to remember whether they've eaten lunch.

I can't promise everything will go perfectly. Seven years have taught me that something always goes sideways.

But I can promise that every corner, every display, every detail, and every ridiculous idea has been created with one thing in mind.

Making you feel the magic.

Because when those doors open and I see people smiling, laughing, and taking it all in?

Every long day, every late night, every moment of questioning my sanity suddenly becomes worth it.

And I get to watch our community enjoy something that so many people worked so hard to create.

That's my Christmas.

That's our Christmas.

And I cannot wait to share it with you.

With love, a little exhaustion, and a truly concerning amount of Christmas spirit,
Leyla

P.S. Every year around this time, I think about Hermey from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. You know, the elf who wanted to be a dentist?

I'm starting to think he was onto something.
 
HOLIDAY LAUNCH SIP & SHOP
Saturday, October 24, 2026 | 10 AM–5 PM
The Shop | Design Shop Interiors located in Granite Bay, California
Complimentary coffee + holiday cocktails from The Horseshoe Bar, 10 AM–2 PM.
Bring your people. Come celebrate with ours.

View Our Facebook Event