It’s all magic at the start. The lunch pints, the reduced workload, the Christmas parties and the snow and the feeling of romance in the air. The train home when you unironically throw on Spotify’s Christmas Bangers playlist. The cosy and familiar glow of hand-me-down festive lights. The first few giddy days of no responsibility and all your schoolmates who are ready to booze and booze and booze. Seeing Mum. Oh Mum, she’s nice isn’t she. She’s made you some mince pies, bless her. And then before you know it, it’s Christmas: bucks fizz galore and a roast which makes your tummy hurt.
But then that day passes. And we just don’t stop. We just don’t! How dogged we become when Chris Rea’s dulcet tones serenades us from AM to PM. It hits 10AM and you earnestly think to yourself, ‘Why shouldn’t I have a little bevaragino, I deserve it.’ You don’t, man, you’ve drunk for ten days now! But you will, because it’s Christmas and you’re bored and there’s nothing else to do other than watch It’s a Wonderful Life or do a TikTok dance with your little cousin.
This is when we enter what I like to call Christmas Fever; when we truly become unhinged: when we are bored senseless. That is when you whip your phone out and you open those favourite little apps of yours – BeReal and Instagram, maybe – to share what you’re up to. Or to get attention of that crush. Or to just fill the time, And without knowing you reveal more about yourself than you realise. Which is to say hey, this is every bit of social media content you will see this Christmas.
Christmas simply isn’t the season for thirst trapping. You’re home and with family, you’re cosy and it’s cold. But you know, drink-addled horndogs gotta chirpse, so they turn to new methods. More nuanced and textured trapping: cute trapping.
Cute trapping can be a plethora of things. An old photo of you at seven, big present in hand, ear-to-ear 1000-kilowatt smile, stood next to a gauchely decorated Christmas tree. Present-day you with your newly born niece in a Christmas jumper. You in big fluffy knitwear with a hot chocolate in hand. You cuddled up with your siblings. You, very simply, in a cute situation and seemingly without intention to shag. But, and this is very important, you do. You’re tricking your potential flame into thinking you're the person to settle down with. They see you, all cute, and think, ‘Yes, I too want to be cute with that person’.
Christmas is prime cute trapping time. We’ve all seen it and it is shameless. We’ve all done it. This Christmas, as ever, we will see it in spades – even more so with BeReal’s influence.
Your ‘working class’ friend in their Grade II-listed country home
This is a tradition as old as time. Your pal who skimps on rounds and says “finna be lit” with an affected MLE accent is posting pics of a whisky sour in front of a wood fire with a pedigree dog on their lap.
The next day they're on their snowy walk and her dad’s in a hunting jacket, obviously. They’ve even gone and posted a picture of their recycling which is entirely Moët & Chandon with a few Gü pots. Oh, yep, there’s the kitchen island. Lovely. Just loooovely stuff.
Christmas day outfits
Fresh drip: We absolutely love to see it. Post it, post it, post it. Let us see you go off, legend!!!
The BeReal newcomers
Come one, come all: our first Christmas with BeReal. It began with you and that one mate who always seems to be one step ahead with apps. Oh they were real weren’t they, back then, all the selfies. At your desk with a cuppa. The next day? At your desk with a cuppa. But then more people came and people refined their games. They didn’t take the selfie as soon as instructed like an obsequious butler. They waited until they were doing something fun, or until they were at a full length mirror.
Us vets have managed to make BeReal not so real for our first Christmas, and it’s going to add new layers to our frenzied festive output. The newcomers, on the other hand? They’ve got no chance. They’ve posted a blurry picture of their dog and not prepared for the selfie — fools! They haven’t even turned off the creepy geolocation feature!
… Quickly followed by BeReal pics on Instagram
Peak Christmas boredom, this. They are lonely and want attention. They are posting their BeReals to their Instagram daily in hopes you may follow and maybe even react to their BeReals. Go on, do it. They need it.
Oh, mate. I’m not sure you should be posting that on your story. It’s 8PM on Dec 29th and your pal has posted a picture of bag on his story with the skiing emoji. He’s with his rugby boys from back home and thought it’d be rude not to. Going to be a tough one to explain to his sort of boss he forgot followed him a week back at the Christmas party.
Elf (bar) on a shelf
They vowed to quit late August and now here they are posting their honey apple Christmas vape special. It’s in that way we all post pictures of our vape: centered with a blurry background in which you can just discern the disappointment on their family’s faces.
Christmas Day jogging
Deranged, isn’t it. They say it makes their day nicer and better and more full. A 6AM Christmas day run. “But don’t you feel bad about just eating and drinking all day?” they say to you with a clenched jaw and distant stare. The worst of Grinches, these people. Don’t fall for their sanctimony. Ignore it. Better yet insult them. Call them out. Cancel them. Had enough, tbh.
Their mum’s ‘class’ roast dinner
Your mate has always talked up her mum’s roast. Walking out of your local on a Sunday, she’s in your ear: “Yeah it was nice and everything, but nothing quite matches my mum’s roast”, standing there with a smug smile on her face.
But look at it. It’s on her BeReal and she’s even gone out of her way to caption it. “Needed This.” The gravy looks like sink water and the broccoli looks like it disintegrates on contact. Let’s not even discuss the meat. Oh Christ, she’s cut the carrots into circles like it’s the 1950s. Make it stop!