ABINGTON -- After 28 years, Tricia Ford has finally convinced her husband to scrap a Christmas tradition: a real tree.
This year they will buy a fake one. Naturally-grown trees are such a bother to set up, said the nurse from Weymouth, who's also tired of sweeping up dried pine needles. And she's seen a few trees fly off car roofs.
"Every year I have to sit there driving slowly so we won't lose it!" Ford said.
In the long-running war between fake and real, Ford and an increasing number of other Americans are lining up on the fake side.
In 2003 consumers spent $660 million on the new models, largely made in Asia, up 25 percent from the year before. The sales rivaled the $791 million that consumers spent on real trees in 2003, even though the fake ones on average cost twice as much. And since the fakes last for years, some in the industry believe they now account for the majority of Christmas trees in American homes.
The growing appeal of the fake trees (manufacturers prefer artificial) reflects relaxed trade barriers and technical advances. The latest models include branches that fold out like umbrellas for easy setup, lights strung onto branches, and shimmering fiber-optic needles that appear to change color.
Gender differences also play a role: Women prefer plastic; men the real McCoy. Retailers and others say that's because women often wind up watering and cleaning up after real trees. Men prefer the scent of real trees and don't like to set up the fakes.
The dollar's decline against the Canadian dollar could also accelerate the trend, effectively raising the price of natural trees from Canada that supply much of New England. And crop reductions after several glut years may have created some minor shortages this year, said Tom Spence, a Woburn tree wholesaler who controls farms in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick.
"I've seen some retailers coming to me for supplies who haven't bought from me in the past," Spence said.
Under siege from imports, this year the National Christmas Tree Association, a trade group representing large growers, formed a market expansion committee to fight back with a $900,000 budget. "It's time to stop the bleeding," read one association flier.
The group arranged for discounts on real trees for customers who saw the movie "The Polar Express," and is considering whether to promote trees under a "buy American" theme. Ron Hudler, who farms 1,500 acres of Christmas trees in West Jefferson, N.C., said growers didn't pay attention to the imports until recently.
"Let's face it, they look a lot different than they did 20 years ago, more lifelike," Hudler said.
Even the White House is starting to get heat to leave pine behind. Every year growers compete to furnish the White House Christmas tree. But White House Chief Usher Gary J. Walters says he receives a dozen letters a year suggesting the White House use an artificial tree to save money or to preserve forests.
Walters said neither argument has merit, since storing a big tree would have its own costs and the trees are grown on farms. He also says there's no substitute.
"There's nothing like the smell of a fresh-cut tree," Walters said. "A fresh tree is hard to beat. It's like sleigh bell, part of Christmas as far as we're concerned," he said. (There is one artificial tree in the building, he said, that stands in a window along the Grand Staircase where a real one would be hard to water.)
The first Christmas tree appeared in 1510 in Riga, Latvia, according to the growers' group. Scholars disagree about the tree's exact religious symbolism but one theory has that the decorated trees represent the Garden of Eden. The tradition became popular by the 1600s, with the first Christmas tree appearing in America at a Moravian settlement in Bethlehem, Pa., in 1747, according to the University of Illinois. And they were technically fakes: "wooden pyramids covered with evergreen branches decorated with candles."
Modern artificial trees started to turn up in the late 1800s, some even made with feathers. During the 1930s, Addis Brush Co. made the best-known artificial tree, using the machinery it had to make toilet brushes, according to amateur historians. Aluminum trees were shown in the 1965 animated feature "A Charlie Brown Christmas" as a symbol of the holiday's growing commercialism. (Charlie Brown bought a spindly real tree.)
Precise plastic molds have taken the fakes a long way since then. Branches on the latest models nearly have the texture of real needles.
"God's truth, from 5 feet away you can't tell the difference," said Pete Dublanica, general manager of Seasonal Specialty Stores Inc. in Foxborough. Schools and banks are big customers because of fire codes that don't allow tall, natural trees, he added.
A big supplier is Santa's Own Inc., a division of Lighthouse Products of Brunswick, Ohio, which imports trees from a network of factories it partly controls in China and Thailand, according to Richard Cohen, its representative in Rhode Island. Another manufacturer is a unit of Carlyle Group, best-known for investments in military contractors.
In Abington, The Christmas Place doesn't sell real trees and doesn't need to. The holiday retailer has one showroom dedicated to a brilliant, ersatz forest that smells more like petroleum than conifer. One of its best-selling fakes is called "Santa's Best Balsam Natural" whose dense network of branches makes it look fuller than many natural trees. "Very rarely do you find one on the tree lot that actually looks this good," manager Rick Dubois said.
On Friday night, one shopper, Abington homemaker Pamela Doherty, said she wanted an artificial tree for the first time, so she won't have to sweep up needles. Her husband Brian said he still preferred the smell and tradition of a real tree. An accountant, he also worried the family might get sick of a fancy tree after a few years. "It seems to me for $400, we're making a long-term decision here," he said.
Showroom clerk Emily Sheridan, said the Dohertys are like "9 out of 10 couples" she sees shopping. "The woman doesn't want the mess," she said, "and the men talk about tradition." (A growers' group survey found a similar trend.)
The Dohertys picked out a $370, 90-inch tall model called "Frasier Green -- Just Cut."
"It looks so real," said Pamela.
Brian, a bit resigned, said, "We can always bring it back tomorrow."
"We're not bringing it back," said Pamela.
Ross Kerber can be reached at kerber@globe.com.![]()