Tuesday, 3 December 2013
Let's Feel Good
It is official, the girls from Boots are no longer coming. They are no longer expected to flock together to single handedly produce Christmas from their stockings. They can relax in comfort wearing 367 hr deodorant and winged padded pants, leaving all Christmas preparation to young teenage Nick. Thankfully Boots have seen the error of their marketing ways, they have rescinded their 'girls only' policy and have finally flung their doors open to boys. Not men. Not yet. To be fair I think Boots have a point, I feel it might be a challenge to motivate fully grown men, after a lifetime of Xmas incapacity, into doing their own Christmas shopping. Boots are correct, the best idea is to catch men of the male persuasion at an early age, while they are still malleable enough to be taught how to take on the mantle of Christmas responsibility. The role model Boots have chosen is the charming young Nick, who is seen racing up April's Street, eager to deliver his sack load of goodies, and he does this all on foot, on his own, without any help from Rudolph the red nosed Rayleigh Bike, or even a stray green elf. Or his mum. We all hope that he is indeed a saint in the making. We all hope that Nick will grow up socially adept; gain a good maths degree; set up a direct debit to Macmillan Cancer Support; marry the lovely April [fittest girl in year 10]; generally have a lovely life and buy bigger presents. But, of course, this is the stuff of Christmas dreams - the time of year to believe that we are cuddly and snuggly and that all wrongs can righted with the purchase of perfumes and electrical goods. This is the season of goodwill and for not swearing at those who steal the last seat on the train when we are overburdened with shopping bags; this is the season for being able to cut someone up on the roundabout and not be threatened with a baseball bat; this is the season when we want to believe that we all love each other really.
Sadly, the most likely outcome is that come January 1st, our lovely young Nick [now skint and 2 stone heavier thanks to festive feasting] will be found auditioning for a part in the new Wonga advert, offering loans at 5853% APR to people who invested too deeply into the heavily televised orgy of Santa fuelled fantasy. People who simply wanted to feel a warm fuzzy glow will now be feeling the heat from a different sort of Nick.... from Saint Nick to Old Nick without leaving the sofa or changing the Chanel.
Now doesn't that make you feel good?