Deck the malls with crowds of shoppers

What kind of Christmas shopper are you? Are you one of those aggravating people who start in the first half of the year, sussing out charming things perfect for every family member, gradually building up their cache of gifts with no stressy, last-minute rush like the rest of us mere mortals? Apparently there are people who buy for the following Christmas at the Boxing Day sales, the very thought of which makes me feel faint with exhaustion.

This year most people are happy to be able to get out to the shops at all. I suspect, however, there may be many crowd-and-bustle-averse introverts like me, who secretly found lockdown to be a way of life they felt could happily continue indefinitely, and would rather poke a fork in their eye than brave the sweat, the pushing and shoving, the sheer desperation of pre-Christmas shops and malls.

Then there’s online shopping – a recently acquired skill at which the man I share my life and offspring with excels. He revels in the extensive research involved, the sense of getting a bargain, the excitement of the delivery person arriving at the front door. Me, I’m not such a fan. My husband buys clothes on line, which I don’t, having had several less than ideal experiences. Men’s sizes are a lot more uniform than women’s, or maybe it’s just that he’s not quite as fussy about his colours. Regardless, ongoing COVID or no, online shopping looks set to continue to be a growing trend.

Back when we had a houseful of children, Christmas gift-giving was big. The thing I loved most, to my surprise, was the stockings. We held to the old-fashioned notion that parents gave the major presents, while Father Christmas left a footy sock full of little goodies.

How I loved to fill those grimy, out of shape socks! An orange at the toe, of course. Chocolate coins covered in gold foil were de rigeur. There were minor stationary items – novelty pens and erasers and dinky paper clips and post-it notes. As they got older, we included knickers, socks, soap, deodorant, spray on Lynx when the boys were in their teens. One of my favourite moments each year was when all four of them piled on to our bed, extricating their treasures from the stocking, item by item, child by child, feigning surprise at each modest and utterly predictable discovery. When they hit adulthood and left home and I called a halt to the practice, there were howls of outrage.

The last few years, we have simplified things enormously by going the Kris Kringle route. And it’s bliss. Christmas prep has become almost stress-free. Some of us are cash strapped, none of us needs more stuff in our lives. We are all weary at year’s end. All we want is to be together. Result? These days I am not any kind of Christmas shopper. I just sit back and rejoice that I don’t have to worry about it.

This was published in The Melbourne Age on 22 December 2020

Comments

[Jenny Harland]

Dearest Clare ~ This is such an important message ~ thank you for spreading the word! About five years ago, our family started giving each other the gift of a personally meaningful donation ~ Animal Farm Sanctuary for the vegans, No Mas Muertes for the Arizona rellies, Street Animal Homeless Project for the dog owners ~ but yes, for our offspring, stockings with an orange in the toe are a continued delight for all of us! The grand-nieces and nephews receive hand me down books and toys from the older cousins. And more than ever, we get tears in our eyes knowing that other beings' lives are being enriched in our honor. Thank you again for your post :-)