All opinions expressed in articles published on Her Campus Leeds are those of the author and do not reflect those of the society.
At 11 o’clock on a hazy, lazy Saturday morning, I was happy and content with my November self. Within the two minute ad-break on ITV, I was heavily stressed over my December self. Those two minutes contained a sound bite of cut-price frozen turkeys, LED trucks brighter than Santa’s beard and Ant and Dec being serenaded- to a Disney like standard- by a gingerbread man. The most wonderful time of the year is descending upon us, and thank God the telly has reminded me.
The cynical among us are foaming at the mouth at the prospect of trashing and bashing the commercialisation of the Christmas season: “You’re lining the pockets of the rich, instead of giving it to the poor! That’s not the Christmas spirit!” Now, I am completely aware of how important a point that is. John Lewis- the giant of the Christmas season- are preparing for a massive rise in sales, with hopes to gain on last year’s glowing annual report that rode into the New Year on a 13% rise in profits throughout December. They are a department store who know that a Christmas advert is the gift that keeps on giving. This year’s effort sees a bear and a hare in a sweeter-than-syrup narrative following their touching journey towards embracing the spirit of Christmas. The producers behind Pocahontas produced the gorgeously pastel animation; Lily Allen singing Keane’s melancholy ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ to fit the tone. I don’t need any more evidence to know that many middle-class tears of sentimental delight were shed over the inter-species friendship (the basis, of which seems to be in the rhyming of their names). How touching of the John Lewis Partnership to spend approximately £7 million in order to remind us of what Christmas is really about, whilst trying to persuade us to engage in the frivolous spending behaviour which many argue Christmas is not about. We’re buying their Cath Kidston gift-sets and we’re buying the Lilly Allen track (currently at #5 on the iTunes chart). We’re buying, buying, buying. This is what the cynics need to be reminded of, because they are buying too.
Christmas, for my family and hopefully for many more, is the time to be together and be thankful for what we have. I’m thankful for what I have. I’m thankful that my mum and dad bought me a £350 laptop, but I would chuck that in a fire without a moment’s hesitation if it was the only way to get a phone call with them. I’d chuck it in a fire if it meant helping out my great-great aunt to be quite honest. Being thankful for what you have is not inextricably linked with how much you get given. There’s a high chance that the richer you are, the screechier your glitter-drenched, brand-clad brat will get when you accidentally by her the Louis Tomlinson cardboard cut-out instead of the Harry Styles one (no one cares about Louis, come on). That’s not necessarily always the case though. You should be grateful for anything your family give to you because they love you, but you should not feel guilty about asking for a new pair of GHDs if you know it’s feasible that you’ll get them. In an idealistic world, we’re not using materialistic means to express our love for each other, but this is definitely not an idealistic world. I get great joy out of seeing a friend or family member open a present I have scraped and saved to buy for them. I’m a pawn in this system of spending, and Marx probably has a permanently upturned nose at that, but I’m not ashamed of it.
So the ubiquity of Christmas adverts is something I welcome with open arms. They know Christmas is in the flicker and snap of the fireplace, forgetting the cranberry sauce, the gentle jingle of the sleigh bells, and showing compassion towards your loved ones. They are not just adverts for the products but adverts for the advent itself. They are selling you the irreplaceable warmth and comfort of the festive season that you push to the back of your mind when you’re reclining on a sunbed in Ayia Napa nursing your hangover with a Sex On The Beach (the cocktail … well, whatever tickles your fancy). You can try to resist the ceremonies and traditions of Christmas that modern society have imposed, but they are what we created to bring us joy. Nothing makes more sense to me than snogging a distant cousin just because I’m standing under a certain herb with him, singing at the top of my lungs along to the Spice Girls’ safe sex anthem (just because they wore winter clothes in the video) and sweating my mammaries off in an all-in-one pyjama suit because its fair isle print is SO of the season. The advertising executives realise this too.
Image Sources:
Picture 1: Coca cola
Picture 2: John Lewis
Picture 3: Google
By Molly Forsyth