I realise that the showing off is almost the only point of Instagram. But I’ve found it a lot this Christmas. I probably shouldn’t have spent so much time scrolling through it in this listless blob of a week. But I did, and I bet you did too. I’ve already written about how I couldn’t even be bothered to have a tree so maybe I’m just beyond hope when it comes to the Christmas spirit. I felt slightly ashamed as I surveyed the endless elegant tablescapes, magnificently decorated rooms, the photos of happy families in their matching Christmas-themed PJs, the softly-lit, artfully arranged plates of mince pies and carrots, next to saccharine-sweet notes in anticipation of Santa and the reindeers. Here, in stark contrast, was my Christmas - lovely, I think. But thoroughly unremarkable. Although, in a post-social world, the fact that I didn’t feel like I had anything to show off about is now, for the purposes of this post, something mildly remarkable.
Saturday 23rd
I drove four hours up the M1 to Nottinghamshire, where my mother-in-law lives. And yes, I did all the driving because when I don’t, we fight. We listened to podcasts from Adam Buxton and Conan O’Brien (my favourite in the whole world) and had a jolly time. I had a cheeky chicken burger from KFC. I haven’t had the KFC urge in more than 30 years but I have a friend who is weirdly obsessed with it and I think he influenced me. But never again, as it was distinctly underwhelming. The quorn shepherds pie dinner at my mother-in-law’s was much nicer. We watched the film Air, which was enjoyable enough. For the first time in living history I had smugly completed all my wrapping duties on Thursday 21st. Absolutely unprecedented scenes. I suppose I could have made a song and dance about that for Instagram because I love wrapping presents and I am good at making them all look nice in posh wrapping paper with these books.
Sunday 24th
On Christmas Eve, I slept in til 10am and woke up fretting about the sore on the dog’s leg that she wouldn’t stop licking. We then spent a great deal of Christmas worrying about that and getting frustrated that these things happen over holidays when the vet/doctor/dentist is shut. We visited my brother-in-law who is grappling with cancer and an intense chemo regime, which put everything into perspective pretty sharpish. His energy levels are varied and unpredictable, so Christmas plans for/with them were sparse. But he and his wife were in good spirits this day and I remain in awe of his pragmatism in the face of it all. He spent a lot of time turning some cancer-related nightmares of his recent ‘toilet troubles’ into 20 minutes of material that he could perform at the Apollo next week. Laughs are laughs - we’re not fussy in our family about how we come by them. Back at the ranch, my mother in law cooked a bloody massive pre-Christmas roast chicken dinner and I rolled back into bed at 10pm.
Monday 25th
Christmas Day! We woke up late again. Well, sleep had been patchy thanks to the dog’s health woes. It’s been a very long time since our one and only child jumped on the bed at dawnbreak, giddy with excitement. She’s 18 and currently working full time so now cares about the lie-ins as much as her weary old parents. We tried to facetime my family in Australia but that didn’t work out so I phoned my dad to discover my mum had already gone to bed. I got hold of two of my three siblings for a chat. It was night-time there and they were all over it and ready to sleep. And I had my usual melancholy hours about how far away I am, and vowed to get to Sydney in 2024.
After unwrapping my one present - a new hat/bag stand for my dressing room, thank you darling husband - I proceeded to piss him off by going over the top with his gift: the Playstation 5 he’s been wanging on about for months. He claims he never seriously wanted me to spend that much money. But I’m terrible at being an imaginative/thoughtful gift giver, so I panicked and just threw money at the problem. The whole thing gave me great joy because I never usually win Christmas. My Christmas morning attire was a very Instagram-unfriendly pair of Uniqlo trackpants and a grey hoodie and featured a chocolate stain (from a Lidl wafer) by 11.15. I found myself with nothing to do before we were due at the sister-in-law’s at 3, so I took the bizarre step of doing a core workout on the Peloton app with this dude. I cleared a skinny little space in the spare room and cracked on. I know, I don’t know what came over me either.
I was the driver so didn’t drink at the Christmas dinner. The food was nice, especially the cauliflower cheese. I ate my bodyweight in custard. I was glad I had made the wise choice to wear a boring, non-sparkly outfit of soft leggings and a very long, loose top. Seven of us around the table, with no simmering tensions. Nothing remarkable to tell you. There was a granular discussion about the differences between Australian and British supermarkets - as my nephew has just returned from a tenure at the Melbourne office of Aldi. We went back to the mother-in-law’s and my daughter wanted to watch The Muppet movie with Jason Segel and we all agreed it might be The Greatest Film Ever Made and we never tire of it. This never fails to make my heart sing:
Tuesday 26th
On Boxing Day, we drove back to London and we listened to more Conan and Adam Buxton. I put on a load of washing the second I walked through the door, because that is lowkey my actual hobby.
Wednesday 27th
Yesterday, we finally got to take the dog to the vet and they think there might be an issue with her kidneys. So I’ve spent this morning following closely behind her in the park trying to catch bits of her pee in a tupperware dish to take in for testing. The glamorous content has been never-ending, I tell you.
If you’ve made it this far in this post and are thinking, ‘my god, how dull’ - that is the point. My Christmas has been a very pre-Instagram Christmas. Nothing to show off about. Nothing exciting. Not one beatific visual moment to proudly share on any platform. Nothing picturesque to show you. Our food was piled high with not a second spent worrying about its presentation. We did not frequent a posh hotel for lavish posts in front of enormous Christmas trees or exquisitely dressed tables. I wore no fashion-forward outfits to photograph. I did not leg it to the winter wonderland of Manhattan for a cute pic at the 30 Rock ice rink, or escape the cold altogether to pose in a bikini on tropical beach.
I started this post by saying I’d had some mild shame waves that I hadn’t had visual moments to show off about. But then I realise I was being ridiculous.
This year I’ve been struck more than ever about how performative Christmas has become on social media. And competitively so. It’s why I wanted to provide something of a palate cleanser. For anyone who’s feeling like they failed the Christmas exam - that so many of us didn’t realise was being set - I hope my rundown of (frankly, blissful) Christmas mundanity has brought you a moment of slight relief.
How was yours? Can you out mundane me?
Drove three hours from boyfriend’s house to mine on Christmas morning to make lunch for my widower father who “doesn’t DO Christmas” but guilt makes me provide. By afternoon was struck down with Norovirus. Spent Christmas night alone violently embracing lavatory. Still stuck in my house, unable to drive three hours back to Christmas jollity (all of which I have now missed). Today I had my first shower since 24th after wading into swamp to rescue my bored springer spaniel. Expressing mood in old skull-emblazoned sweatshirt and leggings covered in bagel crumbs (the only food I can handle as yet). Zero presents as yet.
Likewise bemused by Instagram - what is with the matching pyjamas this year?? Thank you Jo for this - and for normalising not bankrupting yourself on presents. Really hope your pup’s ok. God bless us every one!
How incredibly refreshing! Thank you so much for this much-needed dose of normality and reality. Without wanting to get too ‘pious’ about it as well, I’ve found the performative glitzy aspect of social media christmas particularly hard to stomach this year given the fragile state of the world.
I was covered in milk vomit (new baby) and chocolate (toddler) by 9.30am and spent much of it washing up (why is there SO much cleaning and clearing involved?!) - but still had a nice day and just felt grateful for family, food and our health.
Bollocks to this horrible spitting contest and cheers to the regular Christmases!