“I have a movie for us to watch tonight,” my husband remarked the other day. “It’s about a mom, who gets fed up with Christmas, and she leaves her family to become a nun.”
“Sold!” I replied enthusiastically. (Spoiler alert: This is not, actually, the plot of “Oh.What.Fun,” the holiday flick starring Michelle Pfeiffer, that he was referring to. Nor am I actually leaving my family to become a nun. Yet.)
But that comment came the same week as an Instagram post of “Micro-feminist things I casually say to dads before the holiday” by the account @theperinatalcollective — parenting mental health therapists Kate Borsato and Melissa Medjuck — was being circulated among my mom friend group.
“You must be exhausted. … Christmas season is such a busy season for dads,” is one line. “Are you doing matching PJs? Did you coordinate the photo theme?” is another. And my personal favorite: “asking him if he’s all set with teacher gifts, neighbor gifts, stocking stuffers and daycare cards.”
“Dead on,” my running buddy, who’d also just confessed to feelings of overwhelm, responded.
It also came the same week as our family made a visit to the Walnut Room for a holiday lunch.
The legendary old Marshall Field’s restaurant, known for its 45-foot holiday tree, Mrs. Hering’s pot pie and Frango Mint pie, once again was filled with middle-aged and elderly women posing with their children and grandchildren for photo evidence of a continuing tradition.
“We had a nice time,” another friend of mine, who also cleared the Walnut Room’s lengthy waiting list that week, remarked about her own experience. “But it’s mainly about my mom and her memories.”
A few years before, my two girls and I had met my husband for a late lunch there, a day he was working downtown. We’d dressed up and spent a little time shopping. He came from a Board of Elections hearing in a suit and tie. And the reaction by the older women to our family left me with emotions that make me a little teary.
“You all look so nice,” one remarked, practically petting us. “You know, this was just how it was years ago.”
Marshall Field’s officially ended its run as a Chicago store in September 2009 when Macy’s converted the flagship State Street location and all of its satellite stores to its name. But Macy’s smartly kept the Walnut Room, the seventh-floor wood-paneled dining room that had been a city icon since 1907.
Workers install a 45-foot-tall Christmas tree in Marshall Field’s Walnut Room on Nov. 20, 1959, in the State Street store. (Chicago Tribune historical photo)
It’s the subject of a recent WTTW-Ch. 11 “Chicago Stories” documentary, which details the rise and fall of the store, which began as a dry goods shop before becoming a national retail powerhouse. The documentary shows the store’s iconic green bags, which are featured in movies such as “My Best Friend’s Wedding” and “Home Alone”; the history behind the 6,000-square-foot Tiffany dome; and the magic of the store’s annual holiday windows displays.
My favorite aunt has saved her long-defunct credit card in a box of keepsakes and recently sent me a screenshot. We recently gifted my frugal, notoriously hard-to-buy-for mother a hunter green T-shirt with the Marshall Field’s logo on it. She claims she actually really loves it.
I’ve been contemplating attempting a re-creation of the Frango pie for this year’s Christmas Eve dessert.
“Give the lady what she wants” was Marshall Field’s slogan, with a focus on creating a positive, memorable shopping experience for women in particular. Women were — and remain today, despite all of our societal advances — the average household’s primary shopper, according to numerous studies. That meant, PBS’ “American Experience” notes, discarding the typical “buyer beware” approach, and rejecting common rules returning and exchanging items, and instead offering lounges, a nursery and library, and the ability to hold meetings at the store and write letters on complimentary Marshall Field’s stationery.
This season, I have realized that what so many of us want is that, back for an afternoon. To sit with our loved ones, not worry about the endless to-do lists. Particularly as so many of us feel simply crushed by Christmas. To have the endless requests and feelings of failure and impossible perfection be suspended because for a little while, wonder and perfection can materialize in a 45-foot tree and slice of mint pie.
Kerry Lester Kasper is a Chicago-based writer.
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https://www.chicagotribune.com/2025/12/24/opinion-holiday-moms-stress-marshall-fields-walnut-room/
