They are back. As well as all the usual seasonal unnecessariness, shops are currently flogging festive jumpers.
You know the ones, they were almost mythical at first. Not ever seen on real people… in public. Colin Firth wore one but only as a device to show that the wearer was prepared to sacrifice style for the feelings of others. Sexy because he’s a nice guy not a sexy guy.
Imagine Mr Darcy in red and green polyester dripping from the lake. See, it just doesn’t work.
But these days, apparently, we are supposed to buy – and wear – these cracker joke garments in order to… Actually I’m not sure why apart, obviously, to increase the profit of nasty garment purveyors, collude with associated environmental damage and exploitation. Ho ho ho.
This year festive knitwear is a very serious business. Clothes shops have racks of them, so bright, you’ll need your Raybans. Schools and workplaces gleefully announce fun-filled Christmas jumper events… A three-line whip on clothing with fat men and robins on them. You can tell these gatherings by the preponderance of shiny red faces and more static than long wave radio.
No one looks any good in garish seasonal garments and, worse, wearers end up frumpy in exactly the same way as each other. I suppose there are sheep in the original Christmas story, maybe that’s the reason.