Every year around the first Advent I tell myself I will buy decorations early and calmly, and every year I end up on my living room floor in mid-December with a glue gun, glitter in my hair, and no regrets. I genuinely prefer it that way now. Somewhere along the line, homemade holiday decorations stopped being the cheap option and became my favourite part of the season — the smell of cinnamon, the terrible first attempt that becomes a family joke, the ornament my niece made that still hangs on my tree. These are the ten projects I actually make and remake, the ones that survived more than one December in my Munich flat.
1. Mason Jar Snow Globes

I make these every single year, usually on the first truly dark November evening, and they never fail to make me happy. The trick I learned after my first wobbly attempt is to glue the little figurine to the inside of the lid — not the bottom of the jar — with a generous blob of hot glue, because a tree that drifts sideways looks like it is sinking. I use glycerin-free fake snow from the craft shop, about half a teaspoon per jar, which floats longer than glitter alone; a pinch of fine glitter mixed in catches the light beautifully. Screw the lid on tight, give it a shake, and you have winter in a jar. I tie a ribbon around the lid to hide the metal and add a tiny handwritten tag. They cost almost nothing — old jam jars work perfectly — and I have given away dozens as gifts that people actually keep.
2. Handmade Holiday Wreath

My front door wreath is the thing neighbours comment on most, and it started as a bare grapevine ring I bought at the Viktualienmarkt for 6 EUR. I wrap real fir branches — the trimmings from my Christmas tree, free — around the base with florist wire, tucking them in one direction so the wreath looks full rather than spiky. Then come the extras: dried orange slices I made myself in the oven, cinnamon sticks bundled in threes with twine, a few pinecones from the Englischer Garten. A big bow at the bottom finishes it. Real greenery lasts about four weeks on a sheltered door before it gets crispy, so I hang mine at the start of Advent and it survives until Epiphany. The smell alone is worth it — every time I open the door I get a wave of forest and spice.
3. Pinecone Ornaments

After a walk in the Englischer Garten I usually come home with pockets full of pinecones, and my flatmate has stopped asking why. These are the easiest ornaments on this list and the ones my niece loves making most. I bake the cones first — 30 minutes at 100 degrees — which kills any tiny inhabitants and opens the scales nicely. Then I brush white acrylic paint lightly over just the tips, so it looks like snow settled on them, and while the paint is wet I dust a little fine glitter over the top. A loop of natural twine hot-glued to the base and they are ready for the tree. The painted tips catch the fairy lights in a way that looks far more expensive than free pinecones have any right to look. I have a set of twelve that has lasted four years.
4. DIY Holiday Candle Holders

Nothing makes a December evening feel like the holidays faster than candlelight behind frosted glass, and these holders are my go-to for the dining table. I save glass jars all year — the yoghurt pots from the Turkish grocer are the perfect size — and paint them with frosted glass paint using simple paper stencils I cut myself: stars, trees, a reindeer that looks slightly surprised. The trick is to hold the stencil firmly flat against the glass while you dab the paint, because any gap lets paint bleed underneath and ruins the crisp edge. Once dry, a tealight inside makes the design glow. I cluster five or six of different heights down the middle of the table for dinner parties. They cost me nothing but the paint, and guests always ask where I bought them.
5. Rustic Garland

The first time I made this garland, my whole flat smelled like Christmas for a week, and I was hooked. I dry orange slices myself — thin slices, 90 degrees for about three hours, flipped halfway — and thread them onto sturdy natural twine with a darning needle, alternating with bundles of cinnamon sticks and small fir sprigs that I wire in place. It drapes across my mantelpiece and down the stair railing, and the combination of citrus, spice, and pine is better than any scented candle I have ever bought. The dried oranges deepen to a gorgeous amber colour as they age. One practical note: keep it away from radiators, because direct heat makes the oranges brittle and the twine slack. Mine survives the whole season and goes straight into the compost in January.
6. Salt Dough Ornaments

Salt dough is flour, salt, and water — the cheapest craft material on this list — and it is the project I recommend to anyone with kids or grandkids visiting in December. I mix two cups of flour, one cup of salt, and one cup of water, roll it about half a centimetre thick, and let my niece go wild with the cookie cutters. We poke the hanging hole with a straw before baking, which I only forgot once (try threading ribbon through a baked ornament with no hole — you cannot). Two hours at 90 degrees and they are rock hard. Once cool, we paint them with acrylics — she does the glitter, I do the details — and write names and the year on the back with a marker. Ours hang on the tree every year, and I can see exactly how her handwriting changed.
7. DIY Advent Calendar

I have never once bought a chocolate advent calendar for myself as an adult, because making one is half the fun of December. Mine is embarrassingly simple: twenty-four small brown paper bags, each stamped with a number, filled with a mix of good chocolate, a tea bag, and little folded notes with activities like “glühwein at the Christkindlmarkt” or “bake Plätzchen today”. I clip them onto a length of twine with wooden clothespins and hang the whole string across my living room wall. The notes are what make it special — on busy Decembers, that little slip of paper is the only thing that gets me out of the house to actually enjoy the season. Refilling the bags takes me an evening in late November with a mug of something warm, and it has become a ritual I look forward to.
8. Festive Table Centerpiece

For Christmas dinner I build my centerpiece from a long wooden tray I found at a flea market, and it has never once failed to impress. I lay a base of fir branches — again, the tree trimmings, free — then tuck in pinecones, a few red berries from the florist, and dried orange slices left over from the garland. Three pillar candles of different heights go in the middle, unscented, because scented candles and roast goose are a terrible combination that I learned about the hard way. A scattering of walnuts and hazelnuts in their shells fills the gaps and looks abundant. The whole thing takes me about twenty minutes and costs under 10 EUR. After dinner, guests pick at the nuts while we talk, and I have never once had to throw a centerpiece away — everything either gets eaten or composted.
9. Holiday Pillow Covers

This is the laziest high-impact decoration I own: plain cushion covers that I stencil with holiday motifs every December, and my whole sofa looks festive. I use the envelope-style covers I already have — no sewing — and paint simple designs with fabric paint: a big snowflake on one, a little reindeer on another, tiny trees marching across a third. I cut my own stencils from cardboard, which works fine for one season, and I iron the painted covers for two minutes once dry to heat-set the paint so it survives washing. A metre of red ribbon tied in a bow around one cushion is the finishing touch. When January comes, the covers go in the wash and back into the drawer, and my sofa is normal again. Total cost: one pot of fabric paint and an afternoon.
10. DIY Snowflake Window Clings

My kitchen window gets the snowflake treatment every December, and from the street it looks like I hired someone. I draw snowflakes on wax paper with white puffy paint — six-armed ones are easiest if you fold the paper first and cut, then trace — and sprinkle fine silver glitter over them while the paint is still wet. They need a full day to dry completely; I made the mistake of peeling one early once and it stretched into a sad blob. Once dry, they peel off the wax paper and stick to the glass with just a dab of water, no adhesive, so they come off cleanly in January. I make them in three sizes and cluster them in one corner of the window rather than spreading them evenly, which looks more like real snowfall. My niece makes the small ones; mine are the big showy ones.
Conclusion
Ten projects, one glue gun, and a flat that smells like cinnamon for a month — that is my December, and I would not trade it. Start with the snow globes or the salt dough, keep the glitter away from the cat if you have one, and let the imperfect ones stay imperfect. Those are always the ones people remember.