Sandra Paterson: Bah, humbug - in October!

COMMENT


I stopped in my tracks, transfixed in horror. There, just inside the entrance to Kmart, was a piece of tinsel. And a few steps further, not just tinsel but entire Christmas trees and packets of sparkly lights.

I love Christmas, really I do. I love singing carols and eating festive food; I love choosing a pine tree and how the scent of it fills the house; and I love the look of wonder on my daughter's face. But not just yet. The day I first spotted the offending tinsel was about two weeks ago - in September, if you please.

September, dear store managers, is only three-quarters of the way through the year. It heralds the beginning of spring, not the start of the Christmas spend-up.

It is about daffodils and cute little lambs, not holly and reindeer.

By my reckoning, on the day you are reading this, there are 85 days to go until Christmas Day. It is not too late, dear managers, to admit your mistake and remove all traces of tinsel before you are boycotted by mothers who do not want 85 days of being told what Junior rilly rilly wants for Christmas.

I am not kidding. I have decided I will be not be taking my child to Kmart over the next few weeks; in fact I think I shall give the entire mall a wide berth because before long everyone else will be breaking out the baubles, too.

Marketing managers need to think again, because even the most naive among us can see that starting Christmas early is all about money and nothing about celebration. It is rampant commercialism and it feels decidedly icky.

Seeing Santa in September triggers a train of thought which goes something like this: "Oh my goodness, shall we have a cold dinner or a hot dinner and at whose place and what will I get great-uncle Quentin and I must find a tent to borrow for the holidays and who will look after the cat when we go away?"

On and on it goes, a dizzying mental list of all 206 things which need to be done before and during the festive season. All of them necessary, but I want to be able to pretend Christmas is a long way off for at least another month. And not only do we resent that our children will start writing lists for Santa weeks in advance, we don't want to spoil the joy of it for them.

If the pretty lights and glittery ornaments are around for the best part of three months, the novelty of Christmas wears off and it all gets a bit ho-hum.

Of course, it is entirely possible that I am an exception, a grumpy grinch, and that everyone else wants the halls decked as early as possible.

The general manager of the Kmart chain, Craig McKeown, laughed when I told him I didn't like it and pointed out that Christmas merchandise is selling well.

"If people weren't buying the stuff, then we wouldn't have it on the floor. That's the ultimate measure, isn't it," said he.

Does anyone ever complain? Occasionally, yes.

"We always listen to our customers. But we have to balance the odd grumble against the obvious sales we're achieving."

Bah, humbug. No one would even think about buying the stuff now if it were not thrust under their noses.

Even without overly-enthusiastic store managers, Christmas Downunder is more stressful than it is in the Northern Hemisphere - given that here it coincides with the end of the school year and the major summer holidays.

SO preparing for the festive season takes place amid a frenzy of end-of-year ballet recitals, school prizegivings and office parties.

Not to mention preparations for going on holiday, simultaneously putting away the decorations and getting out the camping gear, then squishing it all into the car and setting out while there's still plenty of ham on the bone.

In contrast, Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere is far less stressful.

The best yuletides I ever had were in the northern winter - one in Switzerland where we tramped through the snow to the village chapel for midnight mass by candlelight; and one in New York state, staying with an Italian family of 12 and eating unbelievably good food while a blizzard raged outside.

I reckon we should shift Christmas Downunder to the middle of the year when it is cold and raining and dark enough to switch on the fairy lights before the kids go to bed.

We should gather our families and friends together in the middle of July and cook enormous roasts with all the trimmings and drink mulled wine by the fire - in a leisurely fashion, not stressed out by the end-of-year madness. The good Lord wouldn't mind. Odds are that his birthday wasn't December 25 anyway, so let's pick another day.

But I digress. I should not even be writing about Christmas in October and I apologise if this has meant the early onset of seasonal anxiety.

That's what happens when you bring out the tinsel way before time.

* Sandra Paterson is a freelance writer based in Tauranga.