IF YOU HAVEN’T yet reached the stage where your child emails you a PDF of their Christmas wish list in mid-November, where they have highlighted the items with more than a three-week shipping time so that you can get a move on, it’s going to come as quite a shock.
It feels like it was only last year when my youngest asked Santa for a ham sandwich for Christmas or when they would spend hours on brightly coloured letters to the Big Man himself, along with paragraphs asking how he is doing, and trying to explain away any recent trouble they might have gotten into.
Since hitting double digits, however, the Christmas lists have changed quite a bit. This year, the youngest sent me a two-page PDF document (I didn’t know that she knew what a PDF was) in the first week of November — she is mad about a White Fox tracksuit and as they are coming from Australia, she needed to light a fire under me.
Now, you might be thinking that the expensive tracksuit would be her only, or maybe her main present, but this was not the case. The very first item on her list was a Vivienne Westwood necklace which was surprising because a) I didn’t even know that she knew who/ what Vivienne Westwood was and b) she already has a Hello Kitty jewellery box. Everyone knows you can’t put a €260 necklace in a Hello Kitty jewellery box!
Never one to be left behind, the older one’s PowerPoint presentation called ‘What I want for Christmas’ landed in my inbox the next morning and was equally as shocking. Uggs, Airpods, Lulu Lemon, Pandora, Charlotte Tilbury and Dior all made an appearance. What do they think I do for a living? Design bike sheds?
The PowerPoint was 12 slides in length and included highlights for really special items, photos, and notes (these are in pink, but if pink is sold out black will do). She even included links to websites so that I could order them at the touch of a button. There was a thank you slide at the end, and a FAQ section for what to tell the Grandparents, or anyone else who might ask, what to get them.
Is it creative or obnoxious? I don’t know. Can it be both? I should also add that they both included a disclaimer to say that they didn’t want, or expect, all of the items, and that this was simply a Wish List. So this leads me to conclude that we can blame TikTok. I think that they both searched ‘Christmas Wish List’ on TikTok, and then regurgitated the answers back at me, which probably explains why they asked for such outrageous gifts that I don’t even think they really want. The younger one asked for a MacBook Pro, for God’s sake. Most adults don’t even need a MacBook Pro!
As I scanned through their Wish Lists, screaming internally, I wondered what my granny would have made of it all. She grew up in a very different time and used to fondly remember getting an orange on Christmas morning, which was the highlight of her year. And then I wondered if she was appalled by myself and my brother going through the Argos catalogue and circling all the things we wanted.
We never thought we would get even half of the stuff we circled in the catalogue, but flicking through the pages for what we wanted was one of the most exciting parts of Christmas.
I always think that this next generation gets an unfair rep for their use of technology, as they are learning how to navigate a world that is increasingly online. Their worlds have grown bigger, and their reach is much wider. They can watch the Christmas Hauls of thousands of children across the world, and of course, it is the ones with the most outrageous items that pick up steam and go viral. And even if you keep them offline, their friends and classmates are likely still being influenced. This then leads to the expensive items becoming mundane must-haves.
It can be really hard to plan a nice gift and then have the idea dashed when they seem to ask for so much more and I passionately wish that their algorithms would send them the odd video on the Cost-of-Living crisis!
I find myself feeling worried for them, do they think this Kardashian-type lifestyle is the norm? On the other hand, I am also really impressed that they managed to so clearly communicate what they want. As a former teen girl, I really love that they are not only asking for what they want but also mastering the crucial art of the sales pitch! And although their letters no longer ask after Mrs Clause, Rudolph or the Elves, there is far more work and effort going into them, even if I don’t love what they are asking for, or the associated waste behind it all.
Are their lists creative and helping to build life-long skills, or is it just entitled hyper-consumerism? I don’t know. But I am sorely tempted to bring out a PowerPoint presentation of my own in response, highlighting photos of messy bedrooms or chores not complete, along with an Outlook calendar invite to a scheduled Performance Review so that I can better assess their KPI’s for the year.
While we did hit a lot of targets over the past few months, there are a number of areas of concern that I would really like to see improvement on before discussing any potential bonuses. And we simply cannot ignore the numerous dress code violations.
So even though I might never financially recover from Christmas, at least I can be ridiculously petty about it. And if I am honest, that does bring a lot of comfort.
Margaret Lynch is a mother of two in Kildare.
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