on the first day of christmas
My true love sent to me, an adult advent calendar in a pear tree.
In recent years I have ranted long and loud wrt material overconsumption and the consequences thereof. It would appear that we’ll splash the cash for any excuse, none more so on those once-special anniversary events such as Halloween, Valentines, Easter and especially, Christmas. And just when you think it couldn’t get more exploitative, we now have overconsumption-with-baubles-on in the shape of advent calendars for adults.
While once children excitedly opened a cardboard door each day to gleefully see what festive picture lay behind, adults can now count down the days with calendars containing everything from luxury beauty products to instant mash potato. I kid you not – Idahoan Perfect Mash Advent Calendar, #29.99 on Bezos’s Bazaar. This year’s most popular versions span the scale from Nivea at #30 to Liberty’s at #275, with Dior tipping the top at a mere #570.
Delivering the instant gratification we’ve grown accustomed to, Ipsos found seven out of ten Britons will buy an advent calendar, but these first-of-the-festive-month product calendars are a microcosm of a of a bigger problem, a system that keeps producing more and more stuff that we neither need nor probably can afford. With much of the packaged tat destined to go directly to landfill without collecting two hundred pounds, it’s clear these purchasing decisions are being made by marketing departments and have precious little to do with any form of celebration.
So, it’ll come as no surprise that being the modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge, I can very easily buy-into everybody’s favourite all-round-good-elf Martin Lewis’s merry manifesto again this year to ban Christmas presents. Thankfully, his targets aren’t the parcels from grandparents that sit under the twinkling trimmed-up tree, it’s the ever-widening circle of present-buying that people feel a need, an obligation almost, to fulfil.
Money-saving Martin argues that we’ve become disconnected from why we give/receive gifts and we simply swap things, potentially creating an unfair obligation into the bargain. Yes, giving can be hugely pleasurable but it’s vital we consider the people getting their grubbies on the goodies and appreciate that this generosity could actually be doing more harm than good. By giving a gift to someone, or their children, you create an obligation on them to do the same, whether they can afford to do so or not. If that obligation is something they will struggle to fulfil, and in these cost-of-living crisis days it’s more than possible, then you’re actually letting them down. Furthermore, Christmas gifting is often a ‘zero-sum’ game, where knick-knacks, trash and bin-fodder often do the rounds between us all. If re-gifting were an Olympic sport, we’d top every podium. In short, we give gifts that are often neither used, wanted nor appreciated.
He cites several examples where the buying-obligation results in situations where valuable pressie money could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been used to put food on the table, pay down the credit card or replace worn-out shoes. Martin’s aim isn’t to stop festive fun but to challenge the blithe, habitual nature of gift giving which many see as a chore, a list-ticking exercise which, in reality, benefits no-one. Not every relationship requires a gift. Affection and friendship don’t have to be demonstrated through the ubiquitous gift-receipt! However, there’s a real social stigma to suggesting this and it’s not an easy subject to broach with friends and family. To try to help, his ‘No Unnecessary Present Pact’ is a deliberate aim to create a supportive philosophy and explain that it’s not just me being tight. Again. Believe it or not, we’re not born with the retail snobbery gene but perhaps you’d be forgiven for confusing genuine joy with materialistic mass delusion in today’s commercialist season. Notwithstanding my ever-increasing desire for a sage-colour-matched Nespresso machine, I reckon it’s time to do Christmas differently.
