I know what I'm about to tell you might come as a bit of a shock: As much as my father is the Prince of Darkness, he's very conservative, especially with his little girl. I'm 32 years old, so if I'm thinking of bringing someone home for Christmas, it's not like he’s gonna be like, "He has to sleep on the couch," and they know I’m not a virgin, so it's not like I'm gonna be out there boinking in my bedroom in my parents house, ‘cause that’s just weird. But I would never disrespect him by bringing someone home and having them sleep in my room, which, by the way, is exactly the same as it was from my childhood. It's now my niece Pearl's room and it still has my single bed, and my little desk that matches it, and it's painted like fairyland.
Anyway, instead of bringing someone home for Christmas, I’ll usually opt for a hotel. True story: I was stuck in New York recently because I missed my flight, and I had to get a hotel. My computer was dead and I didn’t have my charger, so I called one of my friends who told me to download HotelTonight. I ended up being so happy that I missed my flight because I got the Presidential suite at the sickest hotel. It had the hugest balcony in New York, and it was a room that probably would have cost $4,000 a night, but I got it for about $175. And I thought, This is amazing! I mean, I grew up on a tour bus, traveling the world. Like, you never knew what you were gonna get in some of the countries or hotels that we were in.
And it's not like I'm getting any special treatment because I'm Kelly Osbourne. I don’t even put my real name when I book with them. I go in under a different name because I don’t want people to know where I'm staying, for safety. So not knowing that it was even me, and getting the rooms that I get, I've just been blown away every single time. (Also, with the app, if you are an animal lover like me and type in the city name and "pet" it will pull up all the hotels that are dog-friendly, and they have dog menus and dog beds, so it's perfect because I travel everywhere with my dog, Polly.)
I'm telling you all this because, a hotel is the way to go around the holidays. That way, you can have a place to go at the end of the day. You can just do it day by day, seeing how it goes. And if it means you get rid of your partner that you're with because your parents don’t like them, then do so because Christmas is about family and love and trying your best to have a harmonious time. What I have learned — and it pains me to say this — is nine times out of ten, your parents are always right.
When my family gets together for Christmas, Mom always goes all-out — she loves Christmas and she tries to make it as beautiful, and fun, and extravagant as she can. She loves to decorate.
We take the leftovers and make an English food called bubble and squeak, where you take mashed potatoes and all the leftovers and you make patties and fry them. It's really, really good — me and my Dad make it. Then we sit in front of the telly in our jammies and my dad picks what we watch. He still can't work the remote control and we're not allowed to speak and it's usually the same thing that we've watched 25 times. It depends what he's into at the moment, but we always end up with some sort of Hitler documentary.
As for gifts, I'm a huge believer that it's not about the price, it's about the effort. I love making my Christmas gifts. I don’t necessarily love receiving gifts. I get enough gifts out of life anyway and it's not about material things to me, but anybody who knows me knows that they're gonna get a great gift from me and they usually look forward to mine more than anyone else's.
I think a great gift to make is a book of pictures throughout the year on iPhoto. Those are timeless and great memories to look back on, because holidays always start with the best intentions and everybody just wants to have fun, and show their gratitude and love for their family. They might end in disaster, but it's always a good story to tell the next year.
Speaking of which, when I was 8 and my brother was 7, we booby-trapped his bedroom with fishing wire. We connected it to every door handle and every drawer handle — even to the bed knob — everything. So, it was like a spider web. When our dad came in to put our Christmas stocking from Santa at the end of the bed, he went clattering down. And everything from the shelves and all the drawers broke, and he went insane. The only reason we even got our Christmas presents is because we started to cry and said, "You lied to us about Santa!" We still hear it for that one.
I'm an Osbourne and we’re slightly different — let’s just call us unique — but it's a part of life and makes me can't wait to be a parent, so that I can torture my children the way that my parents do to me on holidays.