The usual dilemma is what to buy people for Christmas. My problem is how to match the lovely potential gifts I find at December arts and craft fairs to them that are in my life. Some might say that I’m lucky my shopping list is so short – two Godchildren who would prefer cash, two very young second cousins who last Christmas were more concerned with which one of them could have the packaging that one of their gifts came in, and my dad with whom I’m spending Christmas day. With my nieces and nephews abroad this year, there’ll be no family Secret Santa; which in reality is usually all of us secretly calling each other to swap the names that the computer system gave us.
I’ve considered going ‘off-piste’ and instead of giving chocolates to my postman, perhaps gift him a Pergola London handmade beautifully scented vegan candle (discovered at Hampstead’s monthly Sunday Artisan Market.) But would he find that odd? Is it too intimate or are candles commonplace gifts nowadays? As I stood at a stall selling handprinted art deco tea towels, the only other non-family person on my list – our building’s caretaker – passed through my mind. I reasoned with temptation and concluded that tradition must trump. I will buy him booze.
Add to the mix that I recently did a ceramics workshop at the London School of Mosaics and now I have six clay dishes to find a home for. Luckily my God-kids seem genuinely delighted every time I gift them homemade things, but I do worry that it might not be correct behaviour to ‘offload’ handmade stuff on others when my creations are not available to buy online – i.e. I am not a professional ceramicist.
I am writing this two weeks before the big day. Every time I turn on the radio and whichever popular station I choose – it feels like only Christmas hits are being played and I like to think that George Michael is smiling in heaven to know that Last Christmas is our winter national anthem. On one station, between Bing Crosby’s White Christmas and Elton John’s Step Into Christmas, I caught an advert suggesting scratch cards could make a novel Christmas gift. For the father who wants nothing and fits all his possessions, minus his clothes, in the drawer beside his bed, I’m loving the idea of putting a dozen scratch cards inside a pair of shop bought socks. Although that means going to a shop and I fear what I will find; namely beautifully packaged products I never imagined could exist and me staring at the stuff stacked on shelves, whilst racking my brain – “Who? Who would want that?”
The other day I went into a M&S just to get a snack and found myself cradling a bottle of clementine and spiced sugar plum light up snow globe gin liqueur and desperately wishing that the bottle wasn’t so heavy so that the postman would be able to carry it on his rounds after collecting it from me. Last year I couldn’t resist the new-to-me Baileys Chocolat Luxe and was happy to have a Christmas Eve party to take it to; only to discover that ninety-five percent of the crowd were drinking the vegan version. My thoughtful host insisted that I take my offering home with me. So, as someone who doesn’t drink much, this year to save me from tears, I will not purchase Bailey’s newly released Eton Mess or Tiramisu Cocktail. Unless of course I am prepared to gamble that Derek the Caretaker might like it…
Cover Photo: My friend Dana posing with a bottle of light up snow globe gin liqueur…at least I got a memory!
