The joys of less in the festiveseason

Here’s why the festive season could do with some minimalist action

Now’s about the time you’re steeling yourselves for the emotional (and financial) labour of pleasing your nearest and dearests with stockpiles of gifts this festive season. I’ve found that over the years, the timeline for wish list admin has unbelievably stretched back to September, and by the time we reach December, we’ve all got a department of sundry goods tucked into concealable corners of our homes waiting to be confettied on the ‘big day’. Nothing quite matches the thrill of the new, especially when presented in an opulent mountain range with glittery trimmings. But something tells me our unfettered access to anything we could possibly want is becoming a trifle gratuitous now – even if it is given and received with love.

A month ago, I put a self-imposed ban on shopping. For someone on the hinterlands of the fashion world (I’m more at one with words than wears) I’ve still managed to amass a catalogue of clothes, far outnumbering the amount of hangers I’ve got. As far as consumer affairs goes, fashion is the second biggest polluter on the planet, right after oil – an affecting realisation highlighted in the recent BBC documentary Stacey Dooley Investigates Fashion’s Dirty Secrets. My no-spending rule was also instigated by the following sorry tale: I recently overheard a flushed fashion girl at an event mourning her non-existent savings account because she “had to keep buying new clothes because if I’ve already posted it on my Instagram, I can’t really wear it again, can I?” Oh dear girl I thought, you can, you really can. We’re paying such a high price to keep up the façade on our social media, which is not only booting our bank balance into the red, it’s also beating our self-esteem into pixelated shreds. I specifically use fashion as an example of our gross propensity to spend because I was a victim of the quick-click trap, aimlessly ‘adding to cart’ while surrounded by unopened boxes from e-tailers who promise a what-can-be-a-destructive two-hour delivery service. The thumping ‘get it or regret it’ mantra of fast fashion has put our wants above our needs, bringing apparel, and indeed ‘things’ at an intense volume. So, in a bid to give my existing clothes a proper good run, I started to do what I rarely did before: I wore and re-wore my clothes – shock, horror! – and cut my clothes spending cold turkey. I’ve been making many gleeful discoveries on this journey – I have more prowess in pairing clothes than I thought, and as my lip balms run perilously low, I’m finding forgotten half-used ones in pockets. Kerching!

So, this preening back my spending got me thinking about where else I could cut my losses with a brave new approach towards a simpler life.

The ceremonial gift exchanges. It looms large across the cultural board. Birthdays, names days (do we have any Greeks in the house?) marriages, coming-of-age celebrations, religious festivities, career highlights – there’s always a reason to give and be joyous about it. But there is an exacting air of excess and expectation during this particular holiday season that can engender a froth of anxiety in us all, forcing us to make outlandish choices.

Two Christmases’ ago I achieved an apex of superfluous spending by forking out an eye-watering Dhs6,000 on four people (my immediates, but still!). Even though I am a rabid present-pusher and am on the whole quite large (ask my colleagues to whom I shovel tahini brownies, lemon bars and apple pie bread on the regular) I harboured a lot of shame in that wild transaction back then. And now with the benefit of hindsight, I am outright appalled. Because whatever I bought then, I have not seen used – offence? None taken. It was buying for the sake of buying to fulfil this seasonal obligation, which when broken down, is a damaging thought process of: the more I spend on them, the more proof there is that I love them. If you too are of the same thinking that material acquisition is directly proportionate to love, yank it out of your head.

So, this year, I’ve pre-warned my people that there will be a new kind of policy – a ‘presents amnesty’ if you will – bar my two-year-old niece who will get a justifiable load because I can’t compromise that full-wattage toothy smile. Yet the wheels on downplaying the gift-giving hoopla will be set in motion so she understands that festivities aren’t solely dependent on gifts. And as for the rest of the filthy animals (I assume you know where that came from), they’ll be getting one gift each and I’ll be keeping the change. But this is not a matter of frugality, it’s a matter of conscious consumption at a time of year when the encumbering power of persuasion flails out of control at the expense of what the real deal is with festive occasions: a togetherness uncomplicated by ‘things’.

My American cousin Erik, very rightly said: “Christmas is loaded with too many expectations of what gifts to buy, but a holiday like Thanksgiving is pure joy because it’s us and food. Ok there’s a lot of food on the table yes, but it brings us together on an equal playing field of enthusiasm” and quite frankly, next to no gifts takes the competition out of the equation too.

Keep in mind what Lebanese-American poet and writer Kahlil Gibran said in the 1923 prose poetry, The Prophet: “You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” We may be getting less presents in my household this year, but we’ll be so much more present with each other.