Esther McCarthy: There are plenty of things on the festive to-do list we can get cracking on
"It is December guys and gals, which means there’s festive jobs piling up."
It is December guys and gals, which means there’s festive jobs piling up. This year, because of the kitchen situation, also known as, The Building Site Formerly Known as Our House, we didn’t pull out the Christmas decorations too early. No premature treejaculation in our house, thank you very much.
And Santa sends the Elf on the Shelf to our house only when we have our Christmas tree up and bedecked and the star plonked lopsidedly on top, so we do need to get a wiggle on.
We’re all very much looking forward to Poppy coming and getting up to his cheeky antics. Last year, he left a load of poops around the place, but thankfully, they turned out to be chocolate chips.
And one night, he stuffed 12 crumpled golden Ferraro Rocher wrappers down my side of the sofa, and slopped an entire bottle of cheap red wine all over the rug on the exact same night I stayed out a teeny bit late in Crane Lane after a Christmas party. The little scamp!
And we also believe he’s responsible for some unexplained charges on Mummy’s credit card, oh, how we laughed.
Sure, he brings chaos and questionable hygiene standards, but he also brings… energy. And in a house with three boys, sure, we definitely need more of that. Good old Poppy, he really jazzes things up around the place, so we should really get that tree up.
In the meantime, there are other things on the festive to-do list we can get cracking on. Namely, the letters to Santy. I’m really hoping one of the kids nudges the big man to instruct Poppy to make himself useful and plumb in the dishwasher, and finish off the tiling, instead of pranking the dog, and using the coffee filters as parachutes. That would be class.
And as for the adults, himself and myself have promised to just get each other something small and meaningful. I’m glad. I’m trying to shift shite OUT of the house, not bring more into it. Christmas has become a byword for excess in recent times and I am so lucky to say I need for nothing. (Well, maybe an auld jab of the Mounjaro, but I’m too chicken to take it.)
Besides, we’ve all gotten into the preloved buzz this year. The kids have got some brilliant designer bargains. As for me, I’ve been haunting the Home and Electronics sections, lusting over a baby blue kettle.
I also get a bit of craic out of the chancers trying to sell Shein earrings as “designer”.
There seems to be a trend going on with people codding with Cos, presenting obvious tat as the Swedish brand.
I see you Noémie0001, you crafty counterfeit queen. Temutemptress99cent, don’t think you’re safe either.
But my all-time favourite listing? At the moment, it’s “Single Wooden Peg”. One euro. It’s been sitting there for weeks. The owner even paid to bump it. I cannot tell you the joy that gave me. Skitting. And it has 26 likes. Honestly, my downtime is now scrolling either on Vinted or on the private groups dedicated to Vinted on Facebook. (Baby Jesus in the manger, I need to get out more. But not to Crane Lane. And don’t dob me in to Poppy.) I’ve joined a rake of these groups. Some are all about promoting their personal Vinted accounts, or flagging that they’ve put up new listings, or starting ISO threads — that’s In Search Of for the uninitiated.
It’s fascinating how precise and successful these searches can be. If you’re hankering for a stripey sweater sold in Cashes circa 1971, with mother-of-pearl buttons and a scalloped neckline, there’ll be someone out there with it in the attic and happy to take your €29.95 plus Buyer’s Protection and shipping, and a pleasure doing business with you, five-star review pending.
People post problems they’re having, suss for scams, and ask for advice. Issues like new users wondering about the Buy Now button, some people ask about the etiquette of the French sending low offers, and lots of people are on trying to figure out the nuances of buyers and sellers.
One woman shared a run-in she had after uploading the wrong size. “Human error, these things happen unfortunately,” she wrote, above a screenshot of her messages. “What a reply from the seller… no need for this at all.” The item: a pair of black Nike ladies joggers.
The reply she got:
“You are a c**t. It says they’re medium on the app but they are large, you absolute dickhead.” Well. How I laughed. Vinted isn’t for the fainthearted, or anyone who is offended by a c-bomb.
So yes, Christmas lists are definitely on the agenda. I’m not too stressed about what to get himself. The look on his face when he opens his Single Wooden Peg, oh man, it’s going to be epic.
