What Christmas and Good Content Have in Common

 It was obvious that I was an afterthought. The chump that didn’t quite make the A-list. The recipient of all gifts that weren’t impressive enough to display on varnished bookshelves, but were two-times removed from the goodwill pile.

“Oh no, honey, don’t toss that Creed Greatest Hits CD! Fresh ribbon and some holiday tape and that’s a Christmas gift in the making.”

Good God, why.

I was the ultimate sucker this Christmas, bearing thoughtful gifts that my hands bore out of love and sleeplessness. And in return? Most notably I unwrapped athletic socks fashioned in bulk­—likely purchased on a last minute mommy-needs-forty-more-pounds-of-ham Costco run—and a polka dotted Kate Spade Caboodle equipped with a gift receipt from 2010. Personal.

I won’t say that I was upset, I wasn’t even disappointed. It was laughable, really, how obvious it was that those gift-givers a) knew nothing about me and/or b) weren’t bothered to make a positive, lasting impression. Oh no, I was just another stocking to stuff, and they were one step closer to getting to the bottom of their fourteen foot-long Christmas list, one recycled gift at a time.

Christmas can go one of two ways. It can be that magical day where everywhere you look, carolers with perfect intonation gather around a controlled open fire browning their Chestnuts and laughing all the way. Or it can be an absolute train wreck. A monumental disaster amplified by diva attitudes, unrealistic expectations, and drunken uncles that by some strange twist of cosmic energy, still wear bibs at the dinner table.

Mine was the latter. Until a dear friend made like Jeannette Isabella and brought a torch to light my way back to merriment. He shared with me how his family started a tradition three years back: The music exchange.

No material gifts. No lavish bows or $45 rolls of wrapping paper, and most certainly no mindless and meaningless re-gifting.

Each member of the family makes a CD of the songs that got them through the year – a soundtrack to the good, the bad and the ugly – and distributes them on Christmas day. This way, the entire family walks to the beat of one another’s drummer boy, getting to know each other on a deeper level – albeit tacitly understood.  They can choose to read between the lines or not. They can take songs literally, or fabricate backstories and the motives behind the careful selections.

How intimate, I thought. How vulnerable, and genuine, and compelling. A real gift.

The irony of it all is that making a CD involves a single raw material, and almost no cost. It’s just time and thoughtfulness. So many people break their backs and banks to deliver a meaningful experience, when really all they have to do is take a step back. Listen. Care.

It was then, as I was playing the CD my friend made for me as an honorary member of the family, that I realized brands are alarmingly like frenetic fa-la-la-ers.  They’ve been dishing out the fat packs of Costco socks, repurposing content in bulk, and ultimately leading us all to unimpressive, impersonal experiences. In doing so, they prove that they’re not bothered to get to know consumers on personal levels. That they’re disinterested.  That they’re on their own agendas with their own laundry lists of chicken scratched bullet points to cross off.

If only brands would slow their rolls and stir up content that’s personal. That matters. That makes a difference and helps people feel like they’re walking in each other’s shoes, dancing to each other’s tunes and seeing eye to eye.

God rest ye merry gentlemen, that day will happen! And when it does, it’ll feel like Christmas.

Now do tell, little elves. Does your family have any sentimental gift giving traditions, or any new ones on the horizon?

by Nicole Varvitsiotes

image from Design Sponge Hand Made Gift Guide