Girls – it’s that time of the year again! Time to put on the red hat with the tassel and think – what on earth can I buy Him this year? You’ve bought him the watch, the identity bracelet with your undying love inscribed on the inside, the signet ring, the cuff links with his initials and the monogrammed briefcase. He has enough designer aftershave lotion to bathe Cleopatra and he believes moisturiser is something that gathers on the car window on a frosty morning. You’ve gone the tech route and presented him with the laptop, Kindle and iPhone. In desperation you’ve resorted to DIY so he has the Black and Decker, the five-compartments tool kit and the steamer for removing wall paper … that was a tough Christmas for the relationship.
Vouchers are always handy – but he never found time to take the golf lessons, ditto the hot air balloon ride and the parachute jump. The trip to Barcelona you arranged coincided with a vital Euro match for the Irish soccer team. You were strolling Las Ramblas when he should have been doing a Mexican wave in the Aviva Stadium … and he’s never allowed you to forget it. So, what’s left to do? It seems like the end of Romance Road to buy him a year’s subscription for The Irish Times – another wallet or a book voucher.
You check the gift lists – there’s plenty of them on-line – and tick them off – done that…done that…done that. Now you’re left with only one option. The Onesie.
Fashion has many failings – why else do you crack up laughing when you look back on those old photographs? But the Onesie for the man in your life must be the most stunningly appalling sin of all time. You’ve examined photos of the Onesie from all angles, back view, front and sides. It makes no difference – on or off the catwalk, all you can think of are Teletubbies.
You have no intention of turning the man of your life into a cuddly toy …or have you? The countdown is underway. Decisions have to be made. A space under the Christmas tree needs filling and as the inevitable day draws nearer you experience an insidious mindset. You begin to think positive thoughts about the Onesie. Comfort and warmth, funky and fun. Why not get one printed with his favourite cartoon characters, one with a pocket for his iPhone, one with bear ears or reindeer horns. By Christmas Eve you have capitulated. You parcel the Onesie in glitter and foil. You place it under the tree. It could be worse. You could have bought him a back scratcher or a stress squeezer - and when all’s said and done and worn – isn’t there something incredibly sexy about kissing a Teletubbie under the mistletoe?