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In Nobody Needs This, a series for The Journal, Emer McLysaght focuses her eagle eye on the trends, products and notions we can do without. It’s not all giving out, however. She’ll also be keeping up with what’s catching her attention, keeping people interested and, quite frankly, driving her mad.
MY DAD LOVED smoking. He loved it.
Some of my earliest memories are of being sent into the village shop to buy 20 Gold Bond (back in the days when hanging cigarettes over to a child with a tenner in her hand was socially acceptable), or of dad pushing a trolley around the Dunnes Stores in Kilnamanagh with one hand on the trolley and another occupied with a fag. He smoked enthusiastically at home, and when my mother finally put her foot down about doing it inside, he took it to the garden or the garage.
In my later teens he saw it as a bonding opportunity, and every morning of sixth year as he drove me and my best friend to school the three of us would puff away to our hearts content. Okay, so it’s not ideal parenting, but I was 18 and he just loved smoking.
Dad gave up smoking in 1998 at the age of 50. He had tried so, so many times before. I remember the rages, the moods, the rudimentary vapes and various quitting aids, and always the inevitable return to the cigarettes. It must have been a doctor that put the frighteners up him that ultimately made him stop, or maybe a realisation of how much money he’d spent on the things since he took it up around the age of thirteen or fourteen. He replaced one addiction with another; chewing gum. He could get through three or four packs a day. He was flat out buying the multipacks of Extra in the supermarket, and if he ran out of gum it was almost as bad as if he ran out of cigarettes.
Chewing gum packets have a warning on the label. ‘Warning, excessive consumption may produce laxative effects.’ Most people hear ‘laxative effects’ and think of toilet emergencies, but I offer you an alternative: minty farts.
That’s right. Dad consumed so much chewing gum in his post-smoking phase that his farts took on a minty tinge, and because he was doing so much chewing, his flatulence was off the charts. You’ve never smelled a minty fart until you’ve smelled a minty fart.
I don’t say any of this to embarrass him. He’d laugh about it if he was here. I say it because Dad died in 2008 at the age of sixty of metastatic lung cancer. He was sick for five years before he died. Giving up at 50 was too late. He thought he’d given himself a new lease of life, but it was too late.
Despite the blatant dangers of smoking, it’s everywhere. It’s in the zeitgeist. Young celebrities are puffing away like a cigarette is the new Loewe bag. Kylie Jenner, Charlie XCX, Connor Storrie, Hudson Williams, they’re all routinely photographed smoke in hand or mouth. They probably feel the invincibility of relative youth. And who am I to judge? I carried on smoking, on and off, for nine years after Dad died. I still miss it most weeks.
My greatest challenge came earlier this summer when I attended a friend’s wedding in the UK and there were platters of cigarettes on offer. Guests who are occasional smokers indulged for the weekend. Sure, what harm? I longed to join them. But in March 2027 I will reach ten years smoke-free, and I couldn’t bring myself to break my streak. I’m also hurtling towards the age Dad was when he gave up, confident that he would sail into his retirement with a clean bill of health. I’ll never smoke again.
At Electric Picnic this year the festival implemented a ban on selling ‘nicotine inhaling products’ and continued its prohibition of single use vapes on site (although there was little evidence of enforcement or adherence). There was a strong brand presence in the form of Velo, which produces small pouches (also known as snus) containing nicotine that rest between your gum and your lip.
Marketing nicotine to young people is predatory, and the tobacco companies are all at it. While products that replace cigarettes can help smokers to quit, younger people are now being encouraged to skip the fags and go directly to vapes or snus. The HSE beseeches, ‘if you do not smoke, do not start using nicotine products. Smokeless products are not harm-free and have no health benefits.’ I find it hard to imagine that those who begin with the ‘less harmful’ methods of nicotine delivery will not ultimately move onto traditional cigarettes or at the very least develop a serious dependence on vape products.
It was too late for Dad, but it might not be too late for you. Take it from someone who knows how delicious a cigarette can be. It’s not worth it.
Obsessed with the trailer for the Nathan Fielder/Elizabeth Holmes documentary You Can See Everything. The film premiered at the Telluride Film Festival. Nathan Fielder is best known for his deadpan comedy and cringe appeal. Elizabeth Holmes is best known for founding the health company Theranos and being sentenced to eleven years in prison for fraud. They are the unlikeliest documentary pairing I have ever encountered and this review of the film from Deadline is mouthwatering.
Feeling vindicated by this Thread about being gaslit by your phone’s keyboard. Stop adding words I don’t want! Stop autocorrecting everything!
Continuing to be baffled by the weird Oprah speaking event in the 3Arena next week. The Pendulum Summit will be hosted by professional keynote speaker/mind reader David Meade and there will be music by Bressie. Tickets remaining on Ticketmaster range between around €100 and €300 and they have Oprah shilling them in Instagram ads. Oprah, like! Would you go, for a gawk?
Excited to meet the 2026 Bake Off contestants. Every year my pal Sean organises a Bake Off sweepstakes and I’m hoping to secure Yannis or Gary. The first episode is on Channel 4 on 22 September and Nigella Lawson will be a big draw as Prue Leith’s replacement. Nigella and Alison Hammond, together at last.
Emer will be back next Friday morning with more recommendations.
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