Christmas Eve dinner invitations: the menu goes out first

It's 21:15 on the 24th. Someone in the family group chat asks whether dinner is at your grandparents' house or at yours, and whether they should bring anything. Three people answer at once. Your aunt is still waiting for the address, your brother thought it started at nine, and the menu exists only in your head.

A Christmas Eve dinner invitation that carries the time, the place, the menu and a way to say yes settles most of that before the questions start. You send it once. After that, every change happens inside the same link.

What goes on the first screen of your Christmas Eve dinner invitation

If dinner is on the 24th at 21:30 at your grandparents' house, that comes first: headline, date, time and place. Each one has its own field in the editor, so you type them once and they land where they should. The preview updates while you write, and a character counter stops you before a long headline runs out of the frame.

The link carries the location, so nobody asks at 21:15 whether the entrance was the one next to the pharmacy. If the time moves to 22:00 on the 23rd, you change the field and the same link shows the new hour. Nothing to resend, no second message to the group.

• Headline, date, time and place: the four things nobody should have to ask about.
• A cover photo of last year's table, laid and lit, with one short line in your own words.
• The RSVP questions you decide on: who's coming and how many.
• Music and up to six of your own photos, framed for you.

The RSVP counts who's coming, and you ask about allergies separately

Set the confirmation questions to what you actually need: who's coming, how many of them, and the name you'll write on your list. Answers arrive inside the invitation in one ordered list instead of being scattered across three chats, and you configure the questions yourself.

For intolerances, a special plate or a high chair, send a direct message. That isn't something a form solves, and saying it plainly now beats discovering it when everyone is already seated.

If the time, the place and the menu are in the link, the group chat stays quiet.

Your own tablecloth, in six photos

Upload up to six photos of your own: a cover shot of last year's table laid out, plus a few details. They frame themselves, so there's nothing to crop by hand. You can mark which one is the cover and swap any of them later, if the turrón tray looked better in another take. Add music and one short line such as 'I'm cooking this year, come hungry', and the invitation sounds like your house rather than a template.

What you change on the 23rd doesn't get reprinted

Changing the time, the place, the map, the dress code or the line doesn't mean resending anything. Guests see the updated version when they open the same link. Publishing is one button, and the link and the QR code stay the same however many times you edit.

A digital invitation doesn't print or post anything. If your aunt wants it in her hand, print that one copy yourself and let everyone else come in through the link. They open it on a phone or a laptop, with no app to install, just a connection.

Pick a design, try it free by editing the cover, and publish once you've settled the menu and the hour. It's 29.99 EUR per invitation, one payment, and the link stays live even if you move the time on the 23rd.