The experience of an advent calendar is something wonderful -- majestic, even. On the first of December, creeping down the stairs from your bedroom, imagining the delicious creation that is lying in wait in your kitchen, only… it’s not the one you wanted. Worse than that, it’s not the one ANYONE in their right mind could want. Let’s not lie to ourselves-- there’s a definitive hierarchy of advent calendars, and I want to see just how highly yours comes on my list.
(A warning, before you read: this is a deeply personal attack on anyone who likes beauty products over chocolate. You’ve been alerted. The amount of offence you take is no longer my problem)
10. Coming in at a stunning last place is the alcohol calendar. This was a thing I didn’t know existed until last week, when I was reading about different kinds of calendars and stumbled upon one called ‘The Vodka Explorer.’ Now I don’t know about you, but I most certainly do NOT want to be exploring vodka at 7.30am over my cereal, which is when I eat my advent chocolate. I am praying that no-one reading this has an alcohol calendar -- a rule of thumb, if you can't buy it from Sainsbury's without an ID, it's just not the one.
9. I told you it was coming, and here it is: the dreaded beauty calendar. I have no idea if this is an unpopular opinion -- given my track record for inciting disagreement, it probably is -- but why why why would you want a beauty calendar?? The problems with them are threefold, as I will now illustrate.
They are ridiculously expensive. They’re literally a whole present. Like, yeah, Mac, you can say “cost £135 but worth £340” as much as you want, but it doesn’t make me feel better about buying it.
You never use everything in them because they’re NOT SPECIFIC. This is a big issue -- the bottles might look pretty, but did you really want ‘Pro Longwear Paint Pot in Boujie’? Was that really your heart’s desire? Do you even know what it is? (I don’t)
IT’S NOT CHRISTMAS-Y. I hope you can feel my rage coming through the screen. Getting a pot of concealer does not put me in the holiday spirit. Santa has no connection to lip-plumping gloss.
8. The worse subset of beauty calendars: nail polish. Fun for the first week. Less fun when you have to find storage for twenty-five bottles of nail-polish. Also, I don’t know about you, but I wear about four different nail colours. If it’s not black, red, green or purple, I’m not going to use it. So now you have twenty one unused polishes glaring at you from the back of your cupboard -- well done, grinch.
7. No-one is going to agree with me on this, but I think a tea calendar could be kind of… fun? Okay, maybe fun is a strong word -- this is only coming in at number 7, after all -- but I am a true British girl and if I opened my door to find a gingerbread chai tea bag I think I’d be pretty pleased. They literally do a mulled wine tea, and it’s a crime I haven’t had it. It’s like a festive, value-for-money Starbucks where the drink is a complete surprise every morning. Of course, that works both ways -- suddenly you’re waking up to ‘Turkish Apple’ and questioning the meaning of life.
6. Number six on my ranking table has been reserved for the wild cards. The ones that yes, you would never choose, but if you got one, you’d be too confused to be mad. I’m talking about Pringle advent calendars, hot sauce, candles, or gourmet popcorn (if you wanted to scream private school, that’s how you do it). There’s even a little moons mochi calendar. But I question the logistics -- do you really want to be storing your calendar in the freezer? Is this not unacceptably weird? It’s all fun and games until you’ve got twenty five candles and your bedroom has become a fire risk.
5. Fifth place. Comfortable, but not mind-blowing -- the perfect place for your classic picture advent calendar. Now, please hear me out, because I know this is going to be met with hatred. But picture calendars are not (all) bad! The key word here is ‘all,’ because there are two very different categories; fun, arty ones, and (brace yourself)... religious. I want to be clear, I’m not hating religions themselves. But where’s the excitement in coming down the stairs and thinking hmmm, i wonder what my treat is today? Oh yes, a drawing of the face of God.
4. Now we’re getting to the good ones, and that means one thing -- chocolate. You knew it was going to end here. We all knew it was only a matter of time before I insulted any calendar that didn’t feature something edible. Coming fourth overall, but last in the hierarchy of chocolate, is Hotel Chocolat. Nice, sure. Pretentious? Big yes. I’m all for their chocolate, but something about it just seems out of place in a calendar. Maybe I’m not sophisticated enough to appreciate it fully. Although, bonus points for including a pun in the name. “Up to snow good” is so unnecessary but if anyone tries to tell me it’s not funny I will bludgeon them repeatedly over the head with a christmas tree.
3. I will confess I’ve never actually tried this one. But I don’t even think I need to -- Tony’s Chocolonely has finally released an advent calendar and I desperately want it. It’s ranking high a) because it’s an ethical brand but also mainly (let’s not kid ourselves) because b) it’s incredible. It doesn’t scream Christmas but honestly I can condition my brain to pretend. It’s worth it for flavours like chocolate pretzel toffee crunch. Please sponsor me Tony. I’ll do anything.
2. This was a hard choice for me, because childhood nostalgia almost made me put this at number one. Did anyone else exclusively have dairy milk advent calendars from the age of 6-13? It’s honestly the taste of childhood christmas for me, before the holiday suddenly also became the pre-exam war zone that it is today. I can find no flaws with Cadbury -- they’re just above my petty critic. £1.50 from Sainsbury’s and delicious. Think you’re too good for it? Get out.
But here cometh the holy grail of advent calendars. Bow down before her… Lindt. Or is it Lindor? Does anyone know? Is there a difference? Either way, it doesn’t matter. The holiday season just isn’t complete without a chocolate rabbit (or teddy bear, if you’re a little wild). When I have a lindt calendar, I feel a bit luxurious, a bit fancier than my normal self. For those of you that don’t have lindor, IT’S NOT TOO LATE! Or maybe it is -- you’ll always know in your heart that you failed in your choice.
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