What We Really Want For Christmas

Every year on Christmas Eve my darling brother takes himself off to Westfield in Shepherds Bush to do his Christmas shopping. Now to any sane and breathing human being, this sounds like the worst idea since those heat reactive t-shirts which changed colour under the armpits when you got hot. But before you start thinking he is some crazy fool who must want very badly to be out of his own house on the 24th December, you should actually feel sorry for him because my brother’s birthday is on Christmas Day. He isn’t a lunatic and as far as I know he doesn’t pay someone to drive him around Westfield in one of those electric car things which my friend Kerry once insisted we took my son in (we went about 10 metres from Next to WH Smith and it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life).

I know there are women who don’t enjoy shopping, but it’s a safer generalisation that men hate Christmas shopping more. My dad loved it but then he did all his in Sock Shop and Knickerbox in half an hour at Waterloo station. We were well off for socks and pants in my family in the 1980s. I digress. Men find shopping for gifts a faff and when faced with a partner who appears to have everything, who wouldn’t put it off until the last minute hoping for divine inspiration or similar?

I love shopping and the challenge of buying presents and so I look forward to the telephone call from my brother asking for my thoughts on what he is buying his lovely and very fashionable wife. It is my sister-in-law after all who picks out my present – oh I know what side the family bread is buttered.

If you think your other half has yet to drag him/herself out to the shops, leave this blog open on the breakfast table this weekend. The helpful tips start here – you’re welcome.

Once we pass the age of thirty and set about making the most of and then fine tuning what we have at our disposal (both cerebral and physical), it becomes more and more important to surround yourself with beautiful things and things you love (both animate and inanimate) so over the years the slightly crappy furniture, shoes and face creams are binned for something a little more classy. It may just be swapping Rimmel for Mac or Argos for M&S but it’s progress – you may not actually feel all that grown up in your head but society kind of expects you to behave as if you are and taking your consumerism up a notch helps with that. These days however, everyone from Asda to Zara are doing premium ranges providing even the most skinflintish of us with an opportunity to invest in luxury. I know I’ve gone on about the wonderful textures available on the high street this season, but the festive party season is suddenly upon us and now is the time to snap up the good stuff. Better still, hint to your loved ones to snap it up for you. These are my picks of the touchy feely stuff currently on our high street, all guaranteed to have you looking a cut above the rest on Christmas Day.

Final word on the subject: most of us ladies are quite happy with sparkly stuff – it is Christmas after all – it doesn’t have to cost a fortune but if it adds a bit of twinkle to the end of the year, or even just the ear lobes, then I will be happy. I will also be pretty chuffed if you buy my book as a gift but I don’t want to ruin the moment… ahem… the link is below.

A very merry and lovely Christmas to all my loyal readers, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading as much as I’ve enjoyed researching and writing!

Buy SHOPPED here!  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Shopped-Emily-Stott/dp/1910463302





About aftercarrie

I help people refine their wardrobe to suit their shape, colouring and lifestyle. I am a style consultant, personal shopper and colour analyst working in London. Be the loveliest possible you. My first book SHOPPED was released on 5th July 2016 (September Publishing). www.emilystott.net
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3 Responses to What We Really Want For Christmas

  1. pennystott says:

    Terrific blog Em ! Hilarious bit about Dad ! xx



  2. kerry says:

    Re. embarrassing electric car ride in the Westfield… You forget, it wasn’t about you, Emily. It was about your totally thrilled son, who loved every second of it. AND we were the envy of all other small children passed ‘en route’ to Smiths….


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