Christmas clothing should come but once a year (if at all)

Wear, what, why, when?

People perform a dance routine to mark the Christmas Jumper Day in London (Save the Children)

I like Christmas as much as the next person.

In fact, that’s a lie. I like it, but it seems as if everyone else is whipped up into a hysterical frenzy that I am simply unable to fully contemplate. Seeing Christmas decorations decking halls in November (or even late October in some cases) fills me with dread. Doesn’t Christmas start in December? Have I lost a month somehow?

Of course not. It just seems that our celebration/ preparation/ protestation (delete as appropriate) of the season of goodwill starts earlier and earlier.

Christmas, they say, comes but once a year. But people seem to spend roughly half of the other 364 days harping on about it – not just in person, but via every incessant, unstoppable online facet. That includes, oddly, entire sections of websites devoted to Christmas clothing – jovial, jarring garments in green and red, scratchy Lurex, things encrusted with paste jewels and sequins. In short, stuff you’d never dream of wearing at any other time of the year.

I don’t really understand where this has come from. There’s the traditional hideous jumper, lovingly if misguidedly crafted by a family member, that many are forced to wear on 25 December. But willingly wearing – and even purchasing – said garments feels like a newfangled phenomenon. Particularly when that comes from high-end, high-priced designers – firework-embroidered velvet jackets, things trimmed with fringe and lurid lamé. And that’s just for the blokes.

I get festooning your house with Yuletide tack – sort of. But the decorative canvas extends to your body, too? Is nothing safe? Let’s not even dive into the morass of waste – these clothes aren’t for life, they’re just for Christmas, then they get dumped. I’m not sure what the half-life of scratchy acrylic is, but I reckon it’s equivalent to that of plutonium.

Maybe I’m just being a grinch, and there’s something joyous in adorning yourself to literally embody the festive cheer. I suppose my main issue is with it starting in November, rather than December. It saps the magic. If you must dress like a member of the Griswold family, make it just for one month a year, max.