The Real Mrs. Claus Breaks Her Silence After 137 Years

The smell of a lit cigarette and a faint tapping noise woke me up out of my sleep. I looked over and saw a figure sitting in the chair in the corner of my room. I sat up and screamed at the top of my lungs.

“Oh honey, hush up with all that noise. Ain’t nobody here to hurt you. I’m ready for my interview. I’m ready to talk,” the woman said as she ashed her cigarette in my vase on the mantle.

“Excuse me? Who are you and why are you here?” I asked squinting my eyes to get a better look at her. All I could see was the light from the cigarette and that she was wearing something red and white.

“I just told you. Get up and get some paper young lady. I don’t have all day,” she said as she took another drag.

Reluctantly I got up and did as I was told. Little did I know that I was about to explore a new truth for the holiday season. 


LaParis: Mrs. Claus? What made you reach out to me for an interview?

Mrs. Claus: It’s nice to meet you too sweetie. I ain’t mean to scare you but I needed to do this while I have the courage. Even though I’m in The North Pole, I still have my finger on the pulse of what’s going on in the world. Women are standing up for themselves and hell, I think it’s about time that I do the same. I’ve also been watching you from afar and I like your style, so here we are.

LaParis: Yes ma’am. To be honest I never believed in you or your husband. I mean, no offense.

Mrs. Claus: Chile none taken. I’ll give it to my husband if there’s one thing Willie Earl is good at doing, it’s selling people a good story.

LaParis: Willie Earl?

Mrs. Claus: Yea, I know you didn’t think Santa Claus was his real name now did you?

LaParis: I guess I just never thought about it. But you said you noticed women are taking a stand. What would you like for the world to know about you?

Mrs. Claus: I love my husband. This whole Santa Claus thing was his idea and God knows the world took it and ran with it. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that since 1881 I’ve been doing all of the work. Everything from payroll and health benefits for the elves. I pushed for equal pay for women in the pole. I oversee the qualities of the toys. I create the list for Willie Earl to look over. God knows he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body. I have always sat back and let my husband get the glory for all the hard work I put in throughout the year. And if we’re being honest, Willie Earl ain’t nothing but a glorified FedEx man but let’s just keep that part between me and you. I am the CEO and executive producer of everything that goes on in the Pole. Now that’s some tea too hot even for Kermit to sip.

LaParis. Oh, wow. How brave of you. Trust me, I know coming out and speaking your truth is never easy. But I do have to ask the obvious, I thought that Santa and Mrs. Claus were… white?

Mrs. Claus laughs hysterically and crosses her legs

Mrs. Claus: Ain’t that something? You see how them Europeans changed the image of Jesus don’t you? That’s all I’m going to say about that.

LaParis: I think I know what you mean. So, if you don’t mind me asking how do you guys make money? I mean if it’s too forward you don’t have to answer. I just thought the people would want to know.

Mrs. Claus: How can I put it so you millennials can understand? I guess you could say we are influencers before Instagram was even thought about. All I can say is women make sure you copyright every idea you or your husband may have because you never know which one will take off. Every company that uses our image sends us a check. The North Pole is totally funded by the greed and capitalism of the world. But I ain’t here to get all deep on ya.

LaParis: Oh no, I don’t mind at all. I just have one more question. You said you’ve been running The North Pole since 1881, which is the first year political cartoonist Thomas Nast produced an image of modern Santa, excuse me, Mr. Earl and yourself. That is exactly 137 years ago. Does that mean that you two are… immortal?

Mrs. Claus: See, now you’re asking too many damn questions. I have to get up on out of here. It’s time for Rudolph’s feeding. Just make sure you tell the people I’m the one really running the show. Got it? Good luck with everything honey. Thank you for your time.

Mrs. Claus stubs the cigarette against the vase. She saunters over to the fireplace as her high heels click-clack against the hard wood floors. She crouches down, puts on her sunglasses, and shoots up the chimney with a timeless elegance. Her hips knock against the bricks and shakes my apartment.

If you look deep enough behind every part of “history” there are the sweat and prayers of a black woman at the helm. I carried out my part of the deal by transcribing our interview. I also collaborated with graphic designer Kay Beck to produce Christmas sweaters to celebrate The Real Mrs. Claus. Click the link below to shop!

Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas!!