Angela Mollard: Why banning gifts for adults prevents a festival of angst

Let’s ban gifts for anyone aged over 18 on the grounds they are unnecessary, materialistic, bad for the planet and turn a joyous time of the year into a festival of angst, writes Angela Mollard.

When it comes to gift giving, I am hopeless. I once gave my former husband a cutlery set for Christmas on the grounds we had people coming for lunch. It helped that I found a lovely Jamie Oliver set on sale and, well, everyone needs a knife and fork don’t they?

To his credit, he tried not to look disappointed. Soup spoons, he told our kids, were very useful. But it was a rubbish present and we both knew it.

To make matters worse, he was excellent at gifts. When we’d first met in the ’90s I’d remarked upon how much I liked his scent. It was the unisex CK One so he went to the fancy perfumier Penhaligon’s and bought me a silver heart-shaped dispenser which he then filled with his scent. I should have known then not to marry him.

You see it’s not incompatible star signs or mismatched values or attitudes towards money which will bring a couple undone but opposing love languages. He was all about gifts while the way I show love is through words of affirmation. Or acts of service. A man who loves a meander around Tiffany & Co is not going to feel special with a note listing his adorable qualities or an offer to pick up his dry cleaning.

Unsurprisingly, Christmas stresses the heck out of me. I love the tree, the houses festooned with lights, the growing trend of fashioning every festive dish into an edible wreath and the time with people I love. But the exchange of gifts makes me wish I could hide in a chimney until the whole thing is over.

The exchange of gifts makes me wish I could hide in a chimney until the whole thing is over. Picture: iStock

So I want to float an idea: how about if we created a new Christmas tradition where gifts for anyone aged over 18 are banned on the grounds they are unnecessary, materialistic, bad for the planet and responsible for turning a joyous time of the year into a festival of angst.

No one wants to deny kids the excitement of presents, particularly ones delivered by reindeers and a portly bearded bloke who, in any other setting, they would be taught to avoid. But adults swapping gifts is an expensive insanity fraught with disappointment, particularly when you receive your third caramel-scented candle in as many years and have run out of people to regift it to.

Remember Emma Thompson in Love Actually receiving a Joni Mitchell CD from Alan Rickman? Gifts turn Christmas into a carnival for the crestfallen.

Remember Emma Thompson in Love Actually receiving a Joni Mitchell CD? Gifts turn Christmas into a carnival for the crestfallen.

I’ve done a random survey of 40 people and 79.2 per cent are in favour of no gifts for adults largely because of the cost. As one of the (genuine) surveys I received this week stated, the average Australian household spends $2265 at Christmas.

It’s OK for all of you who listen carefully and make notes on thoughtful gifts throughout the year but for those of us carrying childhood gift trauma, even touching a ribbon or Sellotape can be triggering.

Gifts take me back to my birthday in 1978 when I was convinced by the shape of the parcel that my parents had bought me the Grease album I longed for. Instead, it was a Rodgers and Hammerstein album bearing a $2 bargain bin sticker. When you come from a long line of gift grinches, it’s hard to subvert biology.

My youngest brother, a man whose acts of service make Jesus look like a slouch, also comes out in hives at the rustle of wrapping paper. But his wife loves gifts, both giving and receiving. So instead of raining on her parade, he’s written a declaration which he plans to read out when his young adult children return home for Christmas next week.

“I hereby solemnly swear not to be a grinch and will pretend to be delighted with all the decorations around the home,” reads his missive. “I will henceforth respond enthusiastically to Mum’s selection of music and the presents she gives out. I will not verbalise or communicate … any concerns about our financial position due to the aforementioned quantity of presents purchased from our joint account.

“I will also display delighted emotions with all gifts presented to me despite any internal struggles that may manifest.”

I admire Dave for taking one for the team but have convinced my own cash-strapped offspring that, instead of gifts, we all chip in to go canyoning together. At Christmas lunch we’ll play that White Elephant game where everyone supplies one gift, you’re given a number and, when it’s your turn, you can choose a gift from the pile or pinch one someone else has opened. I can manage that.

And while I retain respect for my former husband’s talent for gifts, when I met my current partner I was less interested in his star sign or taste in music than I was in his love language. Turns out he’s big on quality time and physical touch. What a gift.

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Originally published as Angela Mollard: Why banning gifts for adults prevents a festival of angst