Tape, Tinsel and a Touch of Nerve: The Making of Honiton’s 2026 Christmas Window
Photo: Dietmar Rabich, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
There is a moment, usually just after the lunchtime rush has thinned out, when the counter goes quiet and someone says: ‘Right, then. Window.’ In a big chain shop, that sentence probably triggers a laminated plan and a head office diagram. In a proper local paper shop, it triggers a hunt for the Sellotape, a debate about whether the snow spray still has any puff left in it, and a small pile of yesterday’s sport pages that nobody has quite got round to recycling.
That is how the 2026 Honiton Paper Shop Christmas window begins. Not with a glossy concept board, but with what is already on the shelf, what somebody’s neighbour has dropped in, and a shared belief that a High Street window should look like it belongs to the town it sits in.
The ingredients are already in the shop
A paper shop is quietly brilliant at Christmas crafting. There are card remnants from the display stand, offcuts of ribbon, odd sheets of wrapping paper, a few slightly bent gift tags and, of course, newspapers. Yesterday’s sport pages are particularly good value. Folded, fringed and threaded onto cotton, they become surprisingly convincing paper chains. A back page with a match report on it adds a bit of Honiton humour to the tree, especially if someone spots a headline they remember arguing about.
The snow spray is used with the sort of restraint that only comes from experience. A little on the glass, a little on a cardboard star, and a firm rule that nobody sprays it near the door handle. The Sellotape is deployed generously, sometimes invisibly, sometimes in a way that will be discussed for weeks. And the whole thing is built on a table behind the counter, which means customers can see the mess and offer advice. This is not a flaw in the process. It is the process.
A window with fingerprints on it
The best local Christmas windows are not perfect. A chain-store display can be beautiful, of course — all matching snowflakes and lighting rigs timed to the second. But it rarely has a fingerprint on the glass. It rarely has a wonky paper angel made by a child who popped in with a grandparent on a wet Tuesday. It rarely has a handwritten tag that says ‘For Nan, love from all of us’ because the tag was made in the shop and then a second one had to be made because the first one was too nice to give away.
Honiton’s window should feel like that. A little lopsided. A little personal. Full of small things that only make sense if you know the town. A paper chain that is longer on one side because someone got carried away. A snowman with a crossword clue for a nose. A string of cards from local groups, schools and regulars who wanted to be part of it.
It is not about being scruffy for the sake of it. It is about being handmade enough that people stop, look and feel they could have made it too. That is a different sort of invitation from the one a glossy display gives you. It says: this is ours.
How you can add a bit of yourself
This year, the window is open to contributions. Not in a formal, fill-in-a-form way. More in the spirit of the shop itself: bring something small, leave it at the counter, and we will find a spot for it.
You could make a paper decoration — a star, a bauble, a little folded robin, whatever takes your fancy. You could write a Christmas message or a memory of Honiton on a tag, and we will hang it among the others. You could donate a length of ribbon, a few spare card blanks or a clean piece of wrapping paper that is too nice to throw away. You could even bring in a newspaper page with a headline that makes you smile. Yesterday’s sport is welcome. Yesterday’s crossword is also welcome, especially if it is finished.
The only real rules are the sensible ones: nothing too heavy, nothing that blocks the glass, and nothing that will mind being looked at by every passer-by between now and Christmas. We will do the taping. You can do the suggesting.
Why the wonky version wins
A local shop window is not really a shop window at all. It is a noticeboard with fairy lights. It tells you who is around, what people are making, what the school has been doing, which club has a coffee morning coming up, and whether anyone has found the missing glove that has been on the counter since Tuesday. At Christmas, all of that gets a bit of tinsel on it.
The 2026 Honiton Paper Shop window will not be assembled by a team in a distant office. It will be assembled by whoever is on shift, whoever pops in to help, and whoever brings in a decoration that is slightly too big for the space we had in mind. It will have Sellotape showing. It will have a paper chain that lists to the left. It will have yesterday’s sport somewhere near the top, because that is where it ended up.
And it will be better for it. A glossy chain-store scene is fine to look at. A slightly wonky Honiton window is something to talk about. It is a small, handmade reminder that the High Street is still full of people who will make an effort for each other, even if the snow spray runs out halfway through.
So if you are passing in the next couple of weeks, have a look at the table behind the counter. There will be paper, tape and a pencil or two. Add a star. Write a tag. Laugh at the sport page. The window is being built in public, and there is room for you in it.
