It's still Autumn & that Santa hat is filthy! Image: MarilynJane
Do you know today's the last day of November? Yeah it's been November all this time! Did you think December just had 60 or so days in it now? Oh you poor lamb. Don't let the town centre Christmas decorations up since mid October fool you. If you've been writing down appointments on a chocolatey calendar with doors on then you have fallen foul of pre-pre-Christmas-Christmas. The build up starts earlier every year, with a brief break for Halloween, it's a wonder the shops bother to take down the fairy lights. The decorations have been up so long that by the time Chesney Hawkes gets to your town to flick the switch and turn on the lights the tinsel's all tatty. It is not surprising people are increasingly entering the month of December with early onset Christmas fatigue. We, at Squeamish Bikini, sympathise with you – here are our nightmares before Christmas...
1. My birthday is at the beginning of December. so I have a (seemingly) simple rule - no Christmas stuff before my birthday! I feel like this is getting more and more difficult. I actually really like Christmas. The lights are cheering, and I love glitter and tinsel. But Christmas songs should not be played, mulled wine should not be drunk, and mince pies should not be eaten, until at least the 10th of December dammit! Last week at work a Christmas song came on the radio, and one of my work mates reacted in delighted surprise - "This is the first time I've heard this song this year!" My response? "of course you haven't - IT'S NOVEMBER!" I am all for seasonal cheer. But buy me my goddamn birthday present first. Nothing has ever given me less festive cheer than the experience as a child of being given one present at the start of the month and told "here's your birthday and Christmas present". When I tried repeating the trick in June it never worked. Not that I'm bitter and jealous of summer babies. Oh no. Squeamish Louise
2. My Christmas nightmare is a constant thing. The fear of Christmas is something that haunts me all year long. I could be lying on a sunny beach, cocktail in hand (I wish...), and then the spectre of Christmas will appear in my mind, scaring the living daylights out of me. I can't explain why I hate Christmas so much. Is it having worked in shops over the Christmas period in my teens and early twenties? Is it the inevitable stresses and family pressures? Is it the fact that it overshadows my birthday? God only knows. But for something that involves presents, Christmas is impressively miserable. F1 Kate
3. Christmas itself is a fairly crappy holiday. There's far too much pressure to spend too much money on presents, you have to spend days in the company of family members and in-laws, and inevitably this leads to fights, the TV is filled with inane, sexist, moronic adverts and the radio is filled with hideous jingles that don't leave your brain for days. Oh and there's that whole 'religious festival hijacked by commercialism' if you are religious. And it starts earlier every year! That said - I love it. For one brief month of the year it becomes acceptable to leave work at 4pm to bugger off down the pub. You can crack open a beer at 10am, follow it up with half a bottle of sherry, and nobody blinks an eye. Every meal consists of a dozen dead animals and enough stodge to clog a whale's arteries! There's a new episode of Doctor Who on the TV, a lot of decent comedy on, and most computer games chuck a few new levels or limited content at you for free!
If only I didn't have to waste so much of it hanging out with loved ones... Gareth
4. I saw my first Christmas tree (in a non-retail capacity) last week, it was neon and blue! The only time I have ever felt fed up of Christmas before it's even started is when I was alone in my chilly Glaswegian halls on Christmas Eve Eve. My dad hadn't come to pick me up and EVERYONE else I lived with had gone home. Halloween was, unseasonably, on the TV so I tore down all the Christmas decorations that I'd had up since the last day of November and watched the film. Christmas burn out! Squeamish Nicola
5. I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. I think it's kind of fashionable to seem all jaded about Christmas (that makes me sound so old, you sceptical kids get off my Christmas lawn!) and on occasion I have slightly dreaded it. But what makes me depressed about Christmas is the Christmas adverts. Not the mildly threatening Holidays are coming, holidays are coming... one everyone likes to look out for. This new style of ad with the Frazzled Mum. Frazzled Mum slaving over a hot stove, Frazzled Mum buying and wrapping all the presents, Frazzled Mum making 4 types of potatoes, none of which HA HA are the kind her ungrateful family likes. Joke's on you Frazzled Mum, there's no satisfaction in feeding an ungrateful rabble of kids. Who are these nasty families that don't offer any kind of help beyond folding down pages of the Argos catalogue so Mum knows that they want? The thought of male ad execs slapping each other on the back because they've really tapped into Mum's Christmas experience infuriates me. If my family acted anything like these apparently accurate portrayals of the modern family we'd all get Pot Noodle and an Oxfam Goat for Christmas. And be GRATEFUL FOR IT. Squeamish Kate
2. My Christmas nightmare is a constant thing. The fear of Christmas is something that haunts me all year long. I could be lying on a sunny beach, cocktail in hand (I wish...), and then the spectre of Christmas will appear in my mind, scaring the living daylights out of me. I can't explain why I hate Christmas so much. Is it having worked in shops over the Christmas period in my teens and early twenties? Is it the inevitable stresses and family pressures? Is it the fact that it overshadows my birthday? God only knows. But for something that involves presents, Christmas is impressively miserable. F1 Kate
3. Christmas itself is a fairly crappy holiday. There's far too much pressure to spend too much money on presents, you have to spend days in the company of family members and in-laws, and inevitably this leads to fights, the TV is filled with inane, sexist, moronic adverts and the radio is filled with hideous jingles that don't leave your brain for days. Oh and there's that whole 'religious festival hijacked by commercialism' if you are religious. And it starts earlier every year! That said - I love it. For one brief month of the year it becomes acceptable to leave work at 4pm to bugger off down the pub. You can crack open a beer at 10am, follow it up with half a bottle of sherry, and nobody blinks an eye. Every meal consists of a dozen dead animals and enough stodge to clog a whale's arteries! There's a new episode of Doctor Who on the TV, a lot of decent comedy on, and most computer games chuck a few new levels or limited content at you for free!
If only I didn't have to waste so much of it hanging out with loved ones... Gareth
4. I saw my first Christmas tree (in a non-retail capacity) last week, it was neon and blue! The only time I have ever felt fed up of Christmas before it's even started is when I was alone in my chilly Glaswegian halls on Christmas Eve Eve. My dad hadn't come to pick me up and EVERYONE else I lived with had gone home. Halloween was, unseasonably, on the TV so I tore down all the Christmas decorations that I'd had up since the last day of November and watched the film. Christmas burn out! Squeamish Nicola
5. I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. I think it's kind of fashionable to seem all jaded about Christmas (that makes me sound so old, you sceptical kids get off my Christmas lawn!) and on occasion I have slightly dreaded it. But what makes me depressed about Christmas is the Christmas adverts. Not the mildly threatening Holidays are coming, holidays are coming... one everyone likes to look out for. This new style of ad with the Frazzled Mum. Frazzled Mum slaving over a hot stove, Frazzled Mum buying and wrapping all the presents, Frazzled Mum making 4 types of potatoes, none of which HA HA are the kind her ungrateful family likes. Joke's on you Frazzled Mum, there's no satisfaction in feeding an ungrateful rabble of kids. Who are these nasty families that don't offer any kind of help beyond folding down pages of the Argos catalogue so Mum knows that they want? The thought of male ad execs slapping each other on the back because they've really tapped into Mum's Christmas experience infuriates me. If my family acted anything like these apparently accurate portrayals of the modern family we'd all get Pot Noodle and an Oxfam Goat for Christmas. And be GRATEFUL FOR IT. Squeamish Kate
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