Last year on Christmas Eve my boyfriend and I were in Park Royal at opposite ends of the mall, power shopping the day before Christmas.
We bought CDs, books, a wallet, sweatshirts, and a robe… the list goes on. All of this was done in less than two hours. Credit cards were swiped time and time again. Brows were mopped repeatedly in rising panic as the minutes ticked away and the perfect present, the one that was going to make Christmas Day, seemed to get further and further out of reach.
It was crazed and frenzied spending, without a thought to the monthly statement that would surely be slipping in the mailbox in the New Year. We each hit all the essentials – the Gap, Roots, Banana Republic, and the Bay.
So we shopped, and then we met for lunch with bags piled up beside our seats and then we rushed home, wrapped the presents, put them briefly under the tree and then ripped them apart the next day.
It was nonsensical. I think it’s fair to say that we’ve lost the meaning of Christmas. Better yet, I think it’s fair to say that this has become the meaning of Christmas. What is that all about?
Even when we were in the midst of it, surrounded in the pent up panic of last minute shoppers, I knew it was stupid. As my mom would say, we were buying just for the sake of buying. I hate it when those little parental gems come popping back up to mock you when you’re doing something stupid.
The trip to Park Royal was totally unnecessary. I felt like we were being duped, falling into this dangerous trap of rampant consumerism because that’s what everyone else was doing.
It’s the same every year. As much as I’m loath to say this, I can almost picture us there again on Christmas Eve this year. Then again, maybe we’ll mix it up a bit this year and go to Metrotown. I shudder at the very thought of repeating it all over again.
Anyway I digress. The shopping spree reminded me of the year my mom first suggested we have a consumer-free Christmas. She does it every year now when she’s in the heat of the Christmas pressure, round about Dec. 21, 22. We’ve learned to just ignore it.
But that first year she suggested it, it came as quite a shock. She was sick of the consumerism, playing right into the hands of the marketers and advertisers. There was absolutely no need for it she said. We have too much as it is already and there are people in the world who have nothing. All we think about is ourselves.
There would be no more senseless shopping she declared. We should be thinking about others for a change.
At first my brother was totally supportive of the move. He could relate to the pain of shopping. He didn’t think we should be running out buying senseless gifts at the last minute just to have something under the tree. And he was quite happy if mum and dad just cut him a nice cheque and he could get his new clothes and CDs on his own.
When he realized that consumer-free meant no presents at all, and that all he could look forward to at the bottom of his stocking was a measly tangerine, there was an immediate backlash. He was having none of this Scrooge-like behaviour. Where was our Christmas spirit? Why would we be so miserly? What’s the point of having a tree with no presents underneath it? Hadn’t any of us seen his list?
Mom finally relented. She bravely went back out there for the last few days before Christmas and gave it her all. And like every year before it there were tons of presents under the tree.
In theory I guess I supported mom’s idea of a consumer-free Christmas, though I couldn’t imagine waking up on Christmas morning with no presents. Our family does go overboard at this time ever year. Does dad really need a new pair of slippers every single year? Does my brother need a new Gap wardrobe, the same Gap wardrobe on everyone else’s back? Do they both need another navy blue or grey T-shirt with the word "Whistler" scrawled across it? Does mom need another nightgown and bottle of perfume? Do we NEED any of this STUFF?
I guess we don’t. Here’s the problem: we’ve come to expect it.
This is what Christmas means to me. Presents and shopping and treats and total over indulgence. It’s kind of sickening when you really think about it.
I thought about being a little more altruistic this year. I thought about donating money to protect an endangered animal at the Humane Society of Canada or adopting an acre of the rainforest in the name of a family member.
I can just imagine my boyfriend’s face when I give him a piece of paper, saying his saved part of a rainforest, or some endangered species. Though he says he doesn’t really want anything for Christmas this year, I know he’s expecting me to pitch in for some new ski gear. I just don’t think Adopting an Acre or saving an animal is going to cut it on Christmas Day.
Nevertheless I am going to take a stand this year. Here’s what I’ve decided. I am not going to the mall this Christmas. I’m officially boycotting it. When the rest of you are there on the days before Christmas, I’ll be kicking back with my eggnog. I’m not spending money on books or CDs or clothes or video games that are going to be on sale the very next day.
I am going to Bizarre Bazaar, to find some unique one-of-a-kind local treasures and to support the local artisans. It’s not exactly consumer-free but perhaps it’s a small step in the right direction. I’m thinking smaller, cheaper, one gift per person. And I’ll EXPECT the same in return, as much as I would like some new clothes, books, new gloves, a toque, a pair of boots, a new hair dryer.
(Hey, I knew there was a way I could fit my Christmas list into this column while writing about a consumer-free holiday!)
Good luck Christmas shopping... and if you see me rushing around in panic on Christmas Eve, making ridiculous last minute buys, don’t judge me too quickly. These are habits of a lifetime I’m trying to break.
