Calendar Girl

The lost art of using a wall calendar

I turned my grandmother’s calendar tea towels into pillows.

I am nostalgic for calendars. Not the kind on our phones, but the wall calendars that were once part of the daily scenery of my life. I think a person’s calendar choice used to be a good clue about the owner’s personality and life.

My mother’s calendar hung by her mustard yellow phone on the wall of her kitchen. I think it was usually from Current and, if memory serves me, it had mushrooms for artwork. The blocks of days were filled with my mom’s illegible handwriting, keeping track of the many activities our family of six needed to attend.

My grandfather’s calendar hung in the finished basement of their house by his metal desk. It was from Ridgid Tools and featured women with big hair and even bigger breasts, wearing bikinis, and holding tools. Whenever I looked at it as a child, I felt shocked. How could my sweet grandfather be interested in such things? Unlike my mother’s calendar, my grandfather’s was blank, he lived a simple life of going to work, rambling around the yard, and attending family gatherings. My grandmother kept track of everything for him on her calendar.

Grandma’s calendars were usually marketing swag-the kind that insurance agents and churches handed out and, like my mother’s calendar, hung by the phone. I can almost see her in the kitchen with the phone receiver propped between her ear and her shoulder, writing down a date in her calendar. There was also usually a tea towel calendar hanging on the door in the kitchen-to be used as neither a towel nor a calendar, but decoration.

A tote bag I sewed from another of my grandmother’s tea towels.

When I grew-up and moved out, I had calendars in my house too. I particularly remember a beautiful calendar that featured teapots. It was probably one of the last wall calendars I ever owned, but I didn’t give up on dated stationery easily. I’ve used a combination of paper planners and electronic throughout my adulthood for both business and pleasure.

The breakfast nook of my 1990s apartment. I collected teapots back then. and you can see my teapot calendar hanging on the wall. And look! On the table-is that a NEWSPAPER? Yep! The Sunday LA Times. I miss those Sunday mornings with newsprint on my hands.

Last month, while listening to Beth Kempton podcast about having a Calm Christmas, I decided to print out a calendar page to see the big picture of my holiday season. It was one of the best decisions I made.

At a glance, I could see where activities were bunched up with marathon weeks of holiday commitments and where there was space to breathe. I realize you can toggle to a monthly view of your calendar online, but I rarely do that. When I get an invite or start to make plans, I just go to the day in question and, if it’s empty, make the plans. This results in weeks that are jam-packed and exhausting. These are the weeks when I am sorely tempted to cancel at the last minute because I need to rest. Which is a major problem in society right now, isn’t it? Canceling on one another?

What if, instead, I looked at my wall calendar, saw there were too many activities that week and politely declined by the RSVP date? Or moved things around so I could attend without making myself crazy in the process?

Looking at my December calendar also made me realize I DO have space to have simple, easy days. When I don’t see the big picture, I default to the story that life is busy and stressful. When I look at my wall calendar, I see fun activities AND blank spaces. That vision instantly calms my nervous system on a cellular level.

This discovery is making me think I want to go back to paper calendars in 2026. I have been circling the calendar displays in the local shops, amazed by their beauty and daydreaming about which one I want to hang in my studio. Their very existence shows there are others like me out there in the world. I mean someone is buying them, right?

How about you? Do you use paper calendars? Tell me your calendar stories.

Inspired to get a calendar?

Anne Butera has some lovely desk calendars in her shop and her tea towel calendars remind me of my grandmother’s.

Photo courtesy of Anne Butera.