All I want for Christmas

LOVE it or loathe it, the festive season is almost upon us, with renewed promise of boozy nights out, wishes, and kisses under the mistletoe.
It’s also one of those great opportunities when you can buy a brand new outfit purely for the fact that it’s Christmas and it’s allowed.
However, my friends and family have unwittingly seen to it that I won’t have the chance to do this — the down side of having a birthday at this time of year.
The beautiful skirt I had my eye on was bought for me, vouchers were given allowing me to buy the beautiful shoes I’ve wanted for moths and I still have some spending power left for a beautiful new handbag. It’s only the top half I have to now carefully search for.
I’m extremely grateful I’ve basically been handed an ideal outfit for which I didn’t have to part with cash, but as in love it’s the ‘looking’ that is the best part!
I didn’t let that stop me at the weekend though. While aiming to complete the outfit with a beautiful top, I found another new skirt which has split my affections.
Should I go with the classic 50s style glamour or modern, young, hippy chick look?
The similarities between fashion and love in this instance are uncanny. A night out at the weekend posed a problem for me that I never dreamed of — is it more acceptable to go out with someone old enough to be your father or someone the same age as your ‘little’ brother?
One thing I will be buying is mistletoe, to be filed under M for ‘must have’ until it is brought into action. I urge all of you singletons out there to do the same. Whoever invented and spun out this tradition deserves a big shiny medal.
In Victorian times, kissing under the mistletoe was a Christmas ritual that old-timers hoped would lead to romance and marriage for the younger generation.
Today, mistletoe is familiar to us a decoration that results in some innocent mischief at the annual Christmas office party.
It wasn’t until I was reading up on this ancient love-tool that I realised if a girl remained unkissed, she could expect not to marry the following year. Ho hum. I don’t think that will make much difference to us girls, apart maybe from my pre-engaged friend.
My frustratingly single friend is already planning her next new pair of shoes for the party season. Until this year she did not see the attraction in them (!). But thanks to Sex and the City and Singled Out contributors, she has seen sense.
She is one of the most beautiful, caring, generous, honest and, well, just lovely people I know. It is my greatest Christmas wish that she finds someone who is equally as lovely as her to be happy with.
I say frustratingly single because there is absolutely no reason that she should be single, apart from the quality and quantity of young chaps in her area. She has fairly normal taste, discounting a certain forty-something crooner who believes Love Changes Everything. But everyone has a flaw don’t they?
And so to the opposite end of the scale: what do you say to console your best friend when she splits up with the boyfriend she didn‘t even want? Answer: Nothing —just drink lots of wine and watch Vince Vaughn play Dodgeball.
The thing she is most upset about is that she didn’t get in there first. Instead she got a spineless letter in which he said he would miss her friends and family — four times more than he said he would miss her.
My Christmas diary is getting pretty busy with shopping (of which I’ve done none — SO not like me) including a Secret Santa gift from the girl who’s got everything; reunions with friends for meals and general present swapping; open air ice skating; work Christmas party; performance and cocktails — the list goes on.
I’ve also got a month to think of a New Year’s resolution for 2005. The first one I’m working on at the moment is: Try to find suitable male to spend general lovely times with, who lives within a 50 mile radius, is single and is of a suitable age/maturity and intelligence.
I seem to remember that being one of them this year too. But as they say, resolutions are made to be broken. Don’t they?