Monday, 4 January 2010

Post Christmas blues

So can we talk about the people who draw & professionally print their own Christmas cards and pass them off as their kids’ handiwork? I mean puhleeze, a detailed rendition of the Nativity by Oskar 2 ¾ or the perfect outline of Santa sleighing through the Manhattan skyline with Rudolph at the fore by Persephone, 3. My kids are still shoving crayolas up their nostrils and chewing on play-do at 4 and 5 years of age so either mine are retreads or they just aren’t the arts ‘n crafts type.


I only dwell on this because I can’t even face recycling these cards into next year’s gift tags. The only vaguely smug homemakerish thing I do is snip at cards to turn them into smaller versions thus satisfying my cheap-skate urges and doing my bit for the environment. This year, we didn’t wait for ephiphany to de-Christmas the living room as I couldn’t live with the red and green madness any longer. I was being stifled by our self-imposed and demented interpretation of Kris Kringle meets West London middle-class aspirations. No New Year’s resolutions this year, only a clean slate---a Tabula Rasa from which to launch myself into 2010.

My great misfortune was in watching that Kirstie Allsopp show on Christmas craftiness. I am a London based half-American and fled the US to get as far away from Martha Stewart as possible. Here I am sucked back into that vortex of smug coziness as Kirstie dangles her knucklebuster of an aquamarine ring over the homemade project Du jour. She invites craftspeople to her Devon retreat implying that you too can lure master cheese makers or candle artisans or chocolate chefs to your 2 up 2 down for a masterclass that will result in delightful homemade pressies costing thrupence. I hate her I hate her I hate her and yet I can't take my eyes off the screen. Is there a 12 step programme out there for me?

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