Christmas with the British royal family is anything but ordinary—behind the polished public image lies a set of traditions that many people would find downright bizarre, charming, or even a little uncomfortable. And this is the part most people miss: these customs are not just about fun; they quietly reinforce hierarchy, history, and a very specific idea of what being “royal” means.
Each December, the royal family gathers at Sandringham Estate in Norfolk for a tightly choreographed Christmas celebration. The schedule is steeped in history, with some traditions dating back to Queen Victoria and others influenced by old German royal customs. Rather than a relaxed family holiday, Christmas at Sandringham follows a precise protocol that shapes every arrival, meal, and even the way gifts are exchanged.
One of the most striking rules is that the royals do not simply arrive whenever they like. Family members are expected to turn up at Sandringham in reverse order of rank, with the least senior royals arriving first and the most senior—currently King Charles and Queen Camilla—appearing last. This system ensures no one of high status is ever left waiting around for others, and it visually reinforces the hierarchy within the family from the very start of the festivities.
Perhaps the most controversial tradition is the weighing of guests before and after Christmas dinner. Everyone is asked to step onto antique scales on arrival and again after the lavish meal, a habit that began under King Edward VII, who wanted proof his guests had truly enjoyed and “indulged” in the feast. The ideal outcome was that each person gained around three pounds, suggesting they had fully taken part in the celebration. But here’s where it gets controversial: while some see this as a quirky, old-fashioned joke, others point out how uncomfortable and triggering it can be, particularly for anyone with body image concerns or a history of disordered eating. Princess Diana was reportedly so distressed by this custom that she asked not to participate. Even so, the tradition has persisted, raising ongoing debate about whether it is a playful relic or an insensitive practice in a more body-conscious age.
Gift-giving at Sandringham also looks very different from the glamorous image many people might imagine. Instead of luxurious, extravagant presents opened on Christmas morning, the royals exchange gifts on Christmas Eve in line with a German custom known as Heiligabend Bescherung. Around teatime, roughly 70 family members gather and find their places along a long, white-covered table piled with wrapped packages. The twist? The gifts are expected to be inexpensive and humorous rather than impressive or lavish. Past examples include Princess Anne giving Prince Charles a leather toilet seat, Princess Diana gifting Sarah Ferguson a leopard-print bath mat, and Prince William presenting Queen Elizabeth with slippers printed with her own face. These deliberately silly items are meant to make everyone laugh and lower the pressure of “perfect” presents, turning the exchange into a lighthearted bonding ritual rather than a display of wealth. Prince Harry has described this Christmas Eve session as a chaotic “free-for-all,” with everyone tearing into their parcels at the same time.
Once the gifts are opened, the fun is far from over. After the King’s pre-recorded Christmas address is broadcast at 3 p.m., the family gathers for afternoon tea with a spread that typically includes Christmas cake, chocolate yule log, mince pies served with brandy butter, scones, and sandwiches. Then comes one of the most non-negotiable traditions of all: charades. Participation is expected, and reports suggest the Windsors approach the game with surprising seriousness and competitive spirit. The evening may continue with other activities such as jigsaw puzzles or watching films projected onto a screen in the ballroom. Later, a formal buffet dinner is served at a very specific time—around 8:15 p.m.—offering dishes like stuffed boar’s head, ox tongue, roasted hams, salmon, and various game meats. For many families, Christmas evening is informal and relaxed, but at Sandringham, even the fun has structure.
Christmas morning brings another tradition that can feel especially old-fashioned today: breakfast divided by gender. The men gather in the dining room at about 8:30 a.m. for a hearty full English breakfast featuring items such as eggs, bacon, mushrooms, kippers, and grilled kidneys. The women, meanwhile, receive lighter continental-style trays in their rooms closer to 9 a.m., with fruit, toast, and coffee. The underlying reason comes from longstanding royal protocol rather than practical necessity, and this is a point where opinions really diverge. Some view it as a charming nod to history; others see it as reinforcing out-of-date gender roles that no longer match modern expectations.
After breakfast, the entire group comes together again for a more public aspect of the holiday: the 11 a.m. church service at St. Mary Magdalene, the sixteenth-century church located on the Sandringham estate. This church has been associated with royal worship since the time of Queen Victoria, and attending the service is a firm part of the Christmas schedule. For many observers, these images of the family walking to church in coordinated outfits are the most visible symbol of the royal Christmas, masking the many quirky private traditions behind the scenes.
Even the decorations at Sandringham tell a story. While most households remove their Christmas trees and lights shortly after the New Year, Queen Elizabeth II chose to keep the estate’s decorations up until February 6. That date marks the anniversary of her father King George VI’s death at Sandringham in 1952, when she was only 25. For her, leaving the decorations in place until then was a deeply personal way of honoring his memory and connecting the festive season with a moment of profound family history and transition. Some might find this moving and symbolic, while others might consider it unusual to let Christmas linger so long into the new year.
The original article about these traditions was written by Julia Cancilla, an engagement editor at ELLE Decor who also writes the monthly ELLE “Decorscope” column. Her work spans design, pop culture, travel, and lifestyle, and she has contributed to several other publications, including Inked, House Beautiful, and Marie Claire. Her role involves shaping the brand’s social presence while highlighting the intersection of decor, culture, and everyday living.
So here’s the big question: do these royal Christmas rituals strike you as charming, outdated, or a bit of both? Would you enjoy being weighed before and after dinner, or being required to play charades and follow strict arrival rules, or does that sound more like pressure than holiday joy? And this is the part most people debate: should the royals modernize these customs to reflect contemporary values, or is preserving these eccentric traditions exactly what makes their Christmas uniquely “royal”? Share where you stand—do you love these quirks, or would you rewrite the rulebook if you could?
