Tuesday 27 November 2018

Daft gifts

I was in Arundel two days ago, which is a small, attractive, riverside town in West Sussex famous for its castle, the seat of the Dukes of Norfolk, and its Roman Catholic cathedral - the Dukes of Norfolk (despite being the first in rank of the nobility) being a Catholic family, an historic anomaly that often got them into difficulties with Protestant kings, notably Henry VIII. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duke_of_Norfolk. But I wasn't there to hobnob with the Duke. I was there to stroll around and get my daily 10,000 steps in, which is becoming hard to do when the days are now so short.

I don't often go to Arundel. It's an odd place. It's fine if you want tea and cake (do go to Belinda's) or a browse in Kim's Bookshop (it's a good second-hand bookshop on several floors).

But it's lacking in 'normal' shops. It used to have Pegler's, a well-known outdoor specialist who had two or three shops scattered around the town, each specialising in some aspect of outdoor activity. If you wanted serious kit for walking and backpacking, you went to Pegler's. I bought my Alt-Berg boots from them in July 2011, carefully chosen with the patient assistance of a keen trekker. Alas, they closed down in 2013, and the town has been less interesting ever since.

Since then the place has become filled with upmarket art, jewellery, clothing and gift shops - rather overwhelming the antique shops that were always there (Sussex is still absolutely stuffed with antique shops, even though the trade has been in general decline for a very long time: the salad days of Lovejoy on 1980s and 1990s TV are well past).

All these places, whether long-established or johnny-come-latelies, seem to cater for fashion-conscious trendies on very good incomes, mostly under forty-five. They are expensive. My advice is: don't go into them. Just window-shop, and admire the town's well-preserved architecture, some of which is truly ancient. It helps that Arundel is a hilly place, and that the best bits are nicely arranged along a hillside overlooking the river - the castle and cathedral being dominant. From a distance, Arundel definitely has a 'French' look.

It's easy to take great photos. I timed my visit to secure some fabulous shots of the setting sun on the river, from the original old stone bridge and from the by-pass bridge. But before that, I'd snatched some half-decent street shots, after tea and cake in Belinda's:


So much for the fine views. What about the main topic of this post?

Well, I'd stuck to my maxim of keeping out of all those expensive shops. But a light rain shower drove me into a particularly upmarket shop in a modern conversion from former artisan's premises. It was on three levels, the topmost being a restaurant. They'd installed a swanky lift, if you please, but I took the stairs. It was seething with a youngish crowd looking for 'different' gifts for Christmas. Clothes, Kitchen and Confectionery were the chief gods here.  

I have to admit that many of the gifts were genuinely quirky and amusing, and would raise a smile when unwrapped. They were all clearly a cut above the ordinary: no cheap, tacky rubbish here. But closer examination told me that the quality, though adequate, wasn't enough to make any of these gifts durable. They would fall apart, or break, soon enough. It was fortunate that (a) their novelty value would expire long before they disintegrated; (b) the people buying them could afford to waste their money; and (c) the recipients could junk them without a care soon after Boxing Day.

And some of these gifts were really daft. Such as?

Well, what about a cuddly toy elephant's head, as a joke hunting trophy to put on your wall? 


You could choose more than one animal's head, if wishing to seem a Big Shot:


Bizarre. Goodness knows what these wall heads cost. I didn't look. (Actually, the moose head's price tag is visible, if you zoom into the picture: £69.95. Hmm. I wonder how you would wrap the thing up?)

Another example. Chocolates made to look like body parts:


Not just bizarre. This is verging on tasteless. What sort of person would give a gift like this, and who would gleefully bite into a lookalike human heart, or a super-realistic human finger? Again, I didn't peer at the price tag, but the packaging suggested these well-made but horrific stocking-fillers wouldn't be cheap. 

I would be highly embarrassed to purchase anything like this, and I can't think of anybody I know who would truly want to receive it. What would they think of me? 

I slipped out before anyone asked me why I was taking pictures, and continued my walk. 

Thank goodness I'd entirely given up sending Christmas gifts and cards. I'm so glad I'm no longer involved in that game. Especially if it might mean buying such stuff. 

No comments:

Post a Comment


This blog is public, and I expect comments from many sources and points of view. They will be welcome if sincere, well-expressed and add something worthwhile to the post. If not, they face removal.

Ideally I want to hear from bloggers, who, like myself, are knowable as real people and can be contacted. Anyone whose identity is questionable or impossible to verify may have their comments removed. Commercially-inspired comments will certainly be deleted - I do not allow free advertising.

Whoever you are, if you wish to make a private comment, rather than a public one, then do consider emailing me - see my Blogger Profile for the address.

Lucy Melford