Ho, ho, ho, my festive friends! The season of yuletide joy, questionable knitwear, and overindulgence is upon us once again. So, grab a pint, sling on your fluffiest socks, and let’s settle in for some Christmas truth bombs, Milla-style.
First off, I hope you haven’t been taken out by that horrible festive flu bug sweeping across England right now. Seriously, it feels like half the country is downing Lemsip and clutching hot water bottles, myself included. If you’re one of the unlucky ones, consider this your official permission slip to stay in bed, binge-watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and let someone else cook the turkey.
Now, for those of you still standing, I know the festive script well. You’ll crack open the Quality Street at 8 a.m., pretend you don’t fancy Kermit during The Muppet Christmas Carol, and spend most of the day trying to outpace your nan’s sherry consumption. But before you roll into that glorious food coma and declare yourself champion of Christmas dinner, let me drop a little nugget of wisdom into your stocking.
This time of year, the world seems to morph into one giant supermarket aisle screaming BUY EVERYTHING NOW. The adverts tell us we need the latest gadgets, a table that looks like it’s been curated by Martha Stewart herself, and at least three different types of stuffing for a meal that lasts 45 minutes. Sure, the twinkly lights are magical, but the unspoken pressure to consume, consume, consume is enough to make even Santa pop a Xanax.
Let’s take a beat here. Strip back the wrapping paper, and what’s Christmas really about? Spoiler- it’s not about getting the biggest turkey or nailing the perfect Instagram shot of your tree. It’s about people. You know, that scruffy lot you call family and friends. The ones who show up, laugh at your dad’s dodgy jokes, and love you even when you insist on singing all five verses of Fairytale of New York.
So, this Christmas, how about we all give consumerism the middle finger and focus on connection instead? Instead of splurging on more “stuff,” maybe call that mate you haven’t spoken to in ages. Volunteer an hour or two at a shelter. Or, here’s a wild thought, actually talk to the people you’re sitting with at the dinner table (yes, even Uncle Steve, the one with the conspiracy theories).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Grinch. I’ll be diving headfirst into the mince pies and belting out Wham! as loudly as the next person. But while we’re busy having a laugh, let’s spare a thought for those who might be struggling. Maybe it’s someone grieving, someone lonely, or someone who’s just plain skint this year. A small gesture—a phone call, a cuppa, or even just a smile—can mean the world to someone.
Oh, and while I’m on my soapbox, let’s give a nod to the planet too. Do we really need enough wrapping paper to mummify Big Ben? Make sure you recycle.
So, my challenge to you this Christmas: enjoy the festive chaos, but don’t lose sight of what really matters. It’s not the presents under the tree; it’s the people around it. Have a pint in the pub, watch ELF , scoff that festive chocolate—but also check yourself. Reflect. Think about what you can do for others.
Merry Christmas, you wonderful humans.
Love,
Milla, your Miss England.
First off, I hope you haven’t been taken out by that horrible festive flu bug sweeping across England right now. Seriously, it feels like half the country is downing Lemsip and clutching hot water bottles, myself included. If you’re one of the unlucky ones, consider this your official permission slip to stay in bed, binge-watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and let someone else cook the turkey.
Now, for those of you still standing, I know the festive script well. You’ll crack open the Quality Street at 8 a.m., pretend you don’t fancy Kermit during The Muppet Christmas Carol, and spend most of the day trying to outpace your nan’s sherry consumption. But before you roll into that glorious food coma and declare yourself champion of Christmas dinner, let me drop a little nugget of wisdom into your stocking.
This time of year, the world seems to morph into one giant supermarket aisle screaming BUY EVERYTHING NOW. The adverts tell us we need the latest gadgets, a table that looks like it’s been curated by Martha Stewart herself, and at least three different types of stuffing for a meal that lasts 45 minutes. Sure, the twinkly lights are magical, but the unspoken pressure to consume, consume, consume is enough to make even Santa pop a Xanax.
Let’s take a beat here. Strip back the wrapping paper, and what’s Christmas really about? Spoiler- it’s not about getting the biggest turkey or nailing the perfect Instagram shot of your tree. It’s about people. You know, that scruffy lot you call family and friends. The ones who show up, laugh at your dad’s dodgy jokes, and love you even when you insist on singing all five verses of Fairytale of New York.
So, this Christmas, how about we all give consumerism the middle finger and focus on connection instead? Instead of splurging on more “stuff,” maybe call that mate you haven’t spoken to in ages. Volunteer an hour or two at a shelter. Or, here’s a wild thought, actually talk to the people you’re sitting with at the dinner table (yes, even Uncle Steve, the one with the conspiracy theories).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Grinch. I’ll be diving headfirst into the mince pies and belting out Wham! as loudly as the next person. But while we’re busy having a laugh, let’s spare a thought for those who might be struggling. Maybe it’s someone grieving, someone lonely, or someone who’s just plain skint this year. A small gesture—a phone call, a cuppa, or even just a smile—can mean the world to someone.
Oh, and while I’m on my soapbox, let’s give a nod to the planet too. Do we really need enough wrapping paper to mummify Big Ben? Make sure you recycle.
So, my challenge to you this Christmas: enjoy the festive chaos, but don’t lose sight of what really matters. It’s not the presents under the tree; it’s the people around it. Have a pint in the pub, watch ELF , scoff that festive chocolate—but also check yourself. Reflect. Think about what you can do for others.
Merry Christmas, you wonderful humans.
Love,
Milla, your Miss England.
