It is almost impossible to escape this song during the month of December. You hear those opening minor-key tinkles of the piano or the frantic bowing of a cello, and suddenly you’re thinking about mittens and kittens. But here is the weird thing: My Favorite Things has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. Not a single lyric mentions a holiday, a birth, or even a specific season, other than a brief nod to winter. Yet, it has become a staple of the holiday canon, right up there with "Jingle Bells."
Most people know it from the 1965 film The Sound of Music, where Julie Andrews uses it to calm a bedroom full of terrified children during a thunderstorm. It’s sweet. It’s comforting. It’s iconic. However, if you dig into the history of the song, you’ll find a much weirder, darker, and more musically complex journey than most listeners realize. It’s a song that survived the transition from a Broadway stage to a Hollywood set, and eventually, to the avant-garde jazz clubs of New York City where it was completely deconstructed.
The Broadway Origins of My Favorite Things
Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II were the power duo of musical theater. By the time they wrote The Sound of Music in 1959, they were basically the kings of Broadway. When they wrote My Favorite Things, it wasn't actually intended for the thunderstorm scene. In the original stage production starring Mary Martin, the song is performed in Mother Abbess’s office. It’s a moment of bonding between a young, rebellious postulant (Maria) and her superior.
The song is structurally fascinating. It is written in 3/4 time—a waltz. But it doesn't feel like a sweeping, romantic ballroom waltz. It feels more like a folk song or a lullaby with a slightly nervous edge. The melody starts in a minor key (E minor), which gives it that "sad" or "mysterious" feel, before it finally resolves into a major key for the chorus. That’s the musical "sunlight" breaking through the clouds. It’s a literal representation of the lyrics: finding something bright when things feel dark or scary.
Rodgers was a master of the "earworm." He knew exactly how to hook a listener. By using a repetitive, almost nursery-rhyme-like structure for the verses—"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens"—he makes the song instantly memorable. Hammerstein’s lyrics are equally clever. He lists tangible, sensory items. You can smell the copper kettles. You can feel the wool of the mittens. This isn't abstract poetry; it's a list of psychological anchors.
Why did it become a Christmas song?
Honestly, it’s a fluke of marketing. Because the movie often aired on television during the holidays, and because the lyrics mention "snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes" and "silver-white winters," the association stuck. In the 1960s, variety show stars like Jack Jones and Herb Alpert started including it on holiday albums. Once that happened, the fate of My Favorite Things as a "Christmas song" was sealed, regardless of its actual plot context.
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John Coltrane and the Jazz Revolution
If you only know the Julie Andrews version, you are missing half the story. In 1961, jazz legend John Coltrane took this Broadway show tune and turned it into a 13-minute spiritual odyssey. It changed the course of jazz music forever.
Coltrane played the soprano saxophone on his version of My Favorite Things. At the time, the soprano sax was considered a bit of an antique, almost a joke instrument in the jazz world. Coltrane changed that. He took that simple E minor melody and used it as a launching pad for intense, modal improvisation. He didn't just play the notes; he explored the spaces between the notes.
"I'm very much interested in the song, but I'm also interested in the things that happen in between the melody," Coltrane once remarked about his approach to standards.
His version became a massive hit. It’s a bit of a paradox: a radical, experimental jazz musician finding his greatest commercial success by covering a song from a musical about a singing nun. But the repetitive, hypnotic nature of the waltz rhythm provided the perfect "drone" for Coltrane to solo over. It turned the song from a list of comforts into a meditative trance. If you haven't heard it, listen to the title track of his 1961 album My Favorite Things. It’s dizzying. It’s fast. It’s nothing like the movie version.
The Psychology of the "Comfort List"
There is a reason this song resonates so deeply with people, and it’s not just the catchy tune. It describes a very real cognitive behavioral technique. When you’re feeling "bad" or "sad," or when the "dog bites" or the "bee stings," you are encouraged to pivot your focus.
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Psychologists often talk about "grounding" techniques for anxiety. Maria’s strategy of listing physical objects—brown paper packages, cream-colored ponies—is essentially a grounding exercise. She is forcing her brain to move from an abstract fear (the storm) to concrete, positive sensory details.
It’s basically a three-minute therapy session set to music.
- Sensory Focus: The song moves through sight, touch, and sound.
- Contrast: It acknowledges the "bad" (the bite/sting) but prioritizes the "good."
- Repetition: The rhythmic nature of the list provides a sense of order in chaos.
Surprising Cover Versions You Might Have Missed
Because the song is out of copyright (or at least deeply embedded in the cultural lexicon), everyone has taken a crack at it. It’s one of the most covered songs in history. You’ve got the traditional versions, sure, but then it gets weird.
- Ariana Grande: Her hit "7 Rings" is basically a massive interpolation of My Favorite Things. Instead of whiskers on kittens, she’s talking about "breakfast at Tiffany's and bottles of bubbles." It’s a flex culture anthem built on the bones of a 1950s show tune.
- OutKast: Big Boi and André 3000 used a frenetic, jungle-beat inspired version of the melody for their track "My Favorite Things" on the Idlewild soundtrack. It shows just how well that 3/4 waltz translates to high-energy hip-hop.
- The Supremes: Their version is pure 1960s Motown. It’s got that signature "stomping" beat and tight harmonies that make you forget it was ever a theatrical ballad.
- Lorne Greene: The Bonanza star did a spoken-word-style version that is... well, it’s a choice. It exists.
Common Misconceptions and Factual Errors
People get a lot of things wrong about this song. For one, many think it was written specifically for Julie Andrews. It wasn't. It was written for Mary Martin. Julie Andrews just happened to define it for the masses.
Another error? The "schnitzel with noodles" line. In Austria, schnitzel is almost never served with noodles. It’s usually served with potato salad or parsley potatoes. Hammerstein likely chose "noodles" because it rhymed with "strudels," not because of culinary accuracy.
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Also, despite its reputation as a "happy" song, the bridge is actually quite melancholy. "When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad." The melody dips into its lowest registers here. It’s the acknowledgment of pain that makes the eventual "climb" back to the chorus so satisfying. Without the "bad," the "favorite things" wouldn't matter.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
We live in a noisy world. It’s easy to get overwhelmed. My Favorite Things offers a simple, albeit slightly "cheesy," template for coping. It reminds us that joy is often found in the mundane—the "packages tied up with strings."
Musically, it remains a gold standard for songwriting. It’s a masterclass in how to build tension and release. It’s a bridge between the world of high-art jazz and mainstream pop culture. Whether you’re listening to the 1959 original, the 1961 jazz reimagining, or a 2024 pop remix, the core of the song remains indestructible. It’s a perfect piece of architecture.
If you want to truly appreciate the song, try this: listen to the Sound of Music version and the John Coltrane version back-to-back. Notice how the same twelve notes can feel like a cozy blanket in one hand and a wild, cosmic journey in the other. That is the mark of a truly great composition. It’s flexible. It’s durable. It’s timeless.
Actionable Ways to Explore the Song Further
- Listen to the "Lost" Versions: Find the 1959 original Broadway cast recording with Mary Martin. It has a much more "operatic" and theatrical feel than the movie.
- Analyze the Lyrics: Try writing your own "Favorite Things" list when you’re stressed. Seriously. It’s a legitimate psychological tool for refocusing the brain.
- Study the Jazz Transition: If you’re a musician, look up the lead sheet for the song. See how Coltrane swapped out the standard chords for "pedal points"—staying on one bass note while the melody shifts. It’s a great introduction to modal jazz.
- Watch the Context: Re-watch the scene in the film, but pay attention to the lighting and the camera movement. Notice how the "scary" elements of the room are slowly replaced by the "favorites" as the song progresses.