Its places in history are as storied as they are diverse. Early England’s Druids regarded its berries as sacred after the fruit saved a warrior’s life; centuries later, the berries and leaves were found to be poisonous, causing vomiting and blurred vision. Today, it’s considered a parasite, its roots quickly draining water and nutrients from the trees and bushes unfortunate enough to get in its way. And its old Anglo-Saxon translation doesn’t exactly inspire confidence (“mistel-tan” means poop on a stick). But we nonetheless hold mistletoe in high esteem at Christmas. We’ve named a bunch of drinks after it, and as you know (wink!), it’s the central item among prospects for holiday romance (the kissing thing started with the rough-and-tumble ancient Norse, making its way to 18th-century Britain as a custom between rough-and-tumble household servants). Yup, mistletoe has made it through thick and thin – and one Point Loma business has drawn a bead on the idea, packaging the paragon plant into an appealing little jewelry product called Kisstletoe and supporting a colossal cause at the same time. “I’m an artist,” Kisstletoe creator Susan Winkie says. “I like circles. I like color. I often work with resin. Mistletoe is just a lovely old tradition – so when I dreamed up the idea to create a necklace of preserved mistletoe and then followed that with the name Kisstletoe, well, I knew it was special, unique and a brand new twist on the under-the-mistletoe kiss.” The see-through pendants contain mistletoe sprigs and are flanked by tiny appointments that lend themselves to the pendants’ names. Kisstletoe sells six varieties and plans for more – and it’s a cinch the company won’t run out of product. San Diego County’s eastern mountains are loopy with six species of the evergreen derivative, which cling to cottonwood, oak and sycamore trees the way your mom clings to you. Even so, Point Loma resident Winkie and daughter/co-worker Megan are careful to select the freshest greens – the thing about mistletoe as a parasite is quite true, to the point that the plant is involved in its own demise. It lives a life of ease and squalor, stealing its host trees’ sustenance so aggressively that the trees’ eventual illness can sometimes affect the robustness of the offending mistletoe. And the process itself isn’t as easy as it seems. The sprigs need sifting and delicate preparation for the resin that will preserve them – and you can’t glue the enclosures before the resin dries. The process can take two painstaking days per Kisstletoe. The process also commands Winkie’s attentions amid a far more urgent need. In its initial year last year, Kisstletoe gave 50 percent of its profits to a cause near her heart – the Malala Fund. Malala Yousafzai, the fund’s namesake, is the 18-year-old Pakistani female education activist and the world’s youngest Nobel Prize laureate. Her organization works to secure girls’ right to a minimum 12 years’ quality education. Some organizations place Pakistani girls’ literacy rate as low as 12 percent. “The plight of women in so many parts of the world is dismal,” Winkie says, “so Kisstletoe has given me the ability to do something I’ve always promised myself I would do, which is be part of the movement to empower women all over the world. “I feel so strongly about how women are treated and oppressed in so many parts of our planet. Many simply do not have a voice. Many do not have an education. Many are abused and mistreated. Young girls are married at crazy young ages. I could go on and on about the atrocities and horror – but instead, I am focused on selling Kisstletoe so we can give back.”
Meanwhile, Winkie is quite upbeat about her product and the demand she believes it fills on so many levels. “We’ve got a very marketable product for the holidays,” she says, “something simple and fun with something familiar. It’s a local product because of the mountains, and the girl can hold it close to her, so she’s always in control.”
Best of all, the proceeds will put another sphere of control in the most deserving hands.
For more on Kisstletoe, see kisstletoe.net.
