It's that time of the year again.
Now before you start to think that I am violently anti-Valentines Day, I assure you I am not. I do not plan to spend February the 14th alone with a bottle of wine, consuming an entire Chinese takeaway for four, listening to depressing Snow Patrol songs and planning my own anti-romance revolution. I love romance. But I feel like the romantic element of Valentines Day is being somewhat replaced with an element of panic that not enough gifts have been bought in order to satisfy the expectations that society has of people who are in a relationship.
I resent that, as soon as it hits the end of Christmas, any remotely festive products are swept aside and removed and suddenly all this love is thrust in your face, two months early. "BUY ME" says a giant teddy bear, bearing down on you with a mighty 'Be mine' emblazoned across its chest. "YOU NEED ME" says a pair of 'his and her' plastic champagne glasses. "PICK ME," whispers a boxed set of Richard Curtis films, "I CAN SHOW YOU COMPLETELY FICTIONAL DEPICTIONS OF LOVE THAT YOU CAN NEVER HOPE TO ACHIEVE." You enter a shop and find yourself awash in a sea of sickly soft toys and meaningful cards complete with a pre-written message, that expresses somebody's emotions for them.
I love you. Three words that should very rarely be written by somebody else. The whole point of Valentines Day is, surely, to show someone how much they mean to you. If we cannot even do that without the help of a deeply commercialised card company, then what is the point?
But, as I mentioned, I love romance. February the 14th is the perfect time for people to unashamedly reiterate how much they mean to each other. I suppose I am partly influenced by my parents - every Valentines Day my dad leaves my mum a single red rose, a universal symbol of love and affection, and does so every year without fail and with very little fuss.
Now before you start to think that I am violently anti-Valentines Day, I assure you I am not. I do not plan to spend February the 14th alone with a bottle of wine, consuming an entire Chinese takeaway for four, listening to depressing Snow Patrol songs and planning my own anti-romance revolution. I love romance. But I feel like the romantic element of Valentines Day is being somewhat replaced with an element of panic that not enough gifts have been bought in order to satisfy the expectations that society has of people who are in a relationship.
I resent that, as soon as it hits the end of Christmas, any remotely festive products are swept aside and removed and suddenly all this love is thrust in your face, two months early. "BUY ME" says a giant teddy bear, bearing down on you with a mighty 'Be mine' emblazoned across its chest. "YOU NEED ME" says a pair of 'his and her' plastic champagne glasses. "PICK ME," whispers a boxed set of Richard Curtis films, "I CAN SHOW YOU COMPLETELY FICTIONAL DEPICTIONS OF LOVE THAT YOU CAN NEVER HOPE TO ACHIEVE." You enter a shop and find yourself awash in a sea of sickly soft toys and meaningful cards complete with a pre-written message, that expresses somebody's emotions for them.
I love you. Three words that should very rarely be written by somebody else. The whole point of Valentines Day is, surely, to show someone how much they mean to you. If we cannot even do that without the help of a deeply commercialised card company, then what is the point?
But, as I mentioned, I love romance. February the 14th is the perfect time for people to unashamedly reiterate how much they mean to each other. I suppose I am partly influenced by my parents - every Valentines Day my dad leaves my mum a single red rose, a universal symbol of love and affection, and does so every year without fail and with very little fuss.
'O, my Luve's like a red, red rose'
Robert Burns
That, to me, means so much more than some giant (and frankly rather terrifying) teddy bear, silently screaming 'BE MINE!' or Hugh Grant once again playing himself in yet another rom-com.
Have a nice Valentines Day - throw a bit of love out there, I think the world needs it. :)
(Would just like to thank the fabulous Miranda Hart for my title, sentiments which I occasionally tend to agree with...)
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