Ah, now that Christmas is but crumbs and recycled paper, we stare at what counts as presents and ponder – did it really have to be this way? It occurred to me that I probably don’t voice my opinions on gifts that much, but Christmas is difficult to manoeuvre. People disrupt my brain!
After all, if one deigns to drop to material lows for a gift to me, why not make it count for one or two bigger gifts instead of buying me loads of small gifts I’m only going to throw away/sell.
Lest we turn into Dudley Dursley.
In no way give me chocolate. I don’t even like chocolate. (Unless it’s expensive. But even then it makes me sick.)
And thus, it occurred that I should have a wishlist. At least, or even, for my own sake. An eternal wishlist applicable any year:
> Lush products. ‘Til I die.
> Nightwear, pyjamas or nightdress. Also because these things have a limited life with me.
> Classic beanie babies, thrifted lovingly.
> Collectible or limited edition items.
> Tea/coffee things. Yum.
All Kermits aside.
> Vintage dresses I can’t afford on my own terms, i.e. Bernie Dexter, PinUp Girl.
> Lacy underwear sets. Yes, please!
> Personalised gifts or frames. After all, who doesn’t want a present tailored to their interests?
> Money. For Pete’s sake, money! In my engaged, student state, money is the most loving gift you can give me. I asked for money towards the wedding and the 1 I received (well, 3 if you count the 2 displaced money gifts of £40 in Starbucks and M&S vouchers) was from a family I hardly see.
Thank goodness for the love of strangers!
For once, it would also be nice to be spoiled with a pretty set of crystal earrings the likes of which are features on television adverts.