Hello friends! Happy almost-Thanksgiving!
As a reformed chronic holiday overspender and recovering shopping addict (two years clean and counting), this time of year brings up a lot of frustration and regret over how I used to go about the season.
Working in marketing for a good portion of my income hasn’t helped either.
Maybe the veil has been pulled too far back, or maybe it’s the guilt of knowing I’m part of the problem. I never exactly wanted to see how this particular sausage was made, but now that I have, I can’t quite do sausage.
AKA, Black Friday.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow, which means the Black Friday and Cyber Monday discount code avalanche is already lying in wait—ready to pounce during your first quiet moment in the bathroom at your family gathering.
Don’t miss out! Our biggest sale of the year! The emails cry out, tempting you to buy something you most certainly do not need at 30% off.
Or better yet, buy something your sister/partner/friend also doesn’t need—because it’s heavily discounted and makes you feel like you’re doing something morally good.
You’re giving, you’re thoughtful, you’re generous. Now, just add $15 more to your cart, and you’ll unlock FREE shipping!
Before you press “Buy Now,” I want you to pause. Literally—set a timer for at least 60 seconds and contemplate: why?
Why are you so quick to funnel your hard-earned (and increasingly scarce) money into things you’ll forget about by February? Will this item make you feel loved? Feel whole? Feel proud?
Ask yourself: does anyone actually need what you’re planning to buy them? Will they use it? Will they cherish it? Will it add meaningful value to their lives?
Chances are, no matter how much you’ve convinced yourself that this one object will unlock a new way of life or somehow create a larger capacity for joy, the answer is no.
I know this sounds Grinch-y, but isn’t there something a little… off about how this holiday has been almost entirely redefined by consumerism?
The truth is, our modern system of buying vast amounts between Thanksgiving and New Year’s has straight-up nothing to do with the foundational traditions of Christmas.
Is it that we’re really so overcome with Christmas cheer that the average American plans to spend $1,063 this year on gifts alone?1
Or have centuries-old traditions of small, intentional generosity been mangled into a wildly effective seasonal marketing ploy designed to keep us consuming and spending more every single year?
If we’re being totally honest with ourselves, we’re not usually buying these “must-have” gifts with any deep intention besides either checking off a box, filling a perceived void, or escaping the guilt that we haven’t done enough.
Big Marketing knows this well, and is straight up using psychological research to back up its tactics, feeding on a very special cocktail of obligation, scarcity, and dopamine.
This is an actual excerpt of a newsletter that was sent out to my marketing team as a helpful insight!
It’s no secret that the holidays have become synonymous with profit. For most brands, a staggering percentage of annual income is generated between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day.
In 2023, U.S. holiday retail sales hit a record $964.4 billion.
For perspective on that amount, the U.S. Department of Defense’s budget for 2023 was $858 billion—about $106 billion less than 2023’s holiday retail sales.
To put it simply—that’s a lot of f*cking money to be generated within a month’s span!
According to a survey, 70% of Americans reported overspending during the holidays, with many blaming aggressive sales for exceeding their budgets.2
Meanwhile, 68% of people reported feeling stressed about affording gifts in the first place.3
Even still, a large part of what is bought isn’t even appreciated or wanted!
A study found that 53% of people didn’t like or use at least one gift they received during the holidays, meaning a significant portion of the gifts we buy end up unused or in the trash.4
So… let’s add it up:
A self-described overwhelmed and financially strapped majority of Americans.
$964.4 billion spent last year alone, with the total rising every year.
1 million extra tons of garbage added to landfills per week between Thanksgiving and New Year’s—just from packaging and unwanted gifts!5
All for what?
A little serotonin boost from clicking “Buy Now”?
A fantasy of our loved one’s unending joy as they unwrap their special gift—a moment that rarely plays out the way we envisioned or lasts longer than thirty seconds?
Fairly mindless participation in a marketing-driven ritual, giving things very likely destined for the trash to avoid the guilt of showing up empty-handed?
I, the Grinch, am here to ask yet another question:
What if we… opted out?
What if we focused entirely on what can make this time of year actually meaningful—connection and quality time with the people we care about?
Instead of gifting exclusively material items, we could:
Share experiences (Plan a day trip somewhere fun, get tickets to a show to attend together, or go out to a really nice dinner!)
Share meaningful words and memories (Write a letter that says the things you don’t usually say, or put together a photo book with your favorite memories!)
Give your time (Babysit for parents in your life, help a friend decorate their new apartment, or lend a hand to a family member with that house project!)
If gifting is a non-negotiable part of your tradition, so be it, but I urge you to make it more thoughtful (and sustainable) by supporting local artists and small businesses in your area, or straight-up thrifting your gifts.
Even when taking a more sustainable path for gifting, I still hope you can take the time to ask yourself: what’s driving this gift-giving? Is it about showing genuine love and care, or is it about checking a box?
This year, I’m challenging myself—and inviting you—to take a small (and yes, a little scary) step back from the intense consumerism surrounding the holidays.
To ask, what do my loved ones (and I) actually need?
The answer I’ve settled on?
Good food, and each other.
This year, I’ll be spending the holidays with my family sharing said good food, playing games, and meeting all the new babies in the family.
(Two in one year! Including a great-nephew, which makes me a great-aunt at the ripe old age of 27. Who’da thought?)
There will be no gifts from me, and I’ve asked for no gifts in return.
Family members, if you’re reading this and it comes as a big shock, I pray for a speedy emotional recovery. This year’s haul will surely be lacking in charm and personality in the absence of my editorial gift-giving taste, but I hope my delightful presence alone makes up for it.
<3
Whatever your holidays look like, I hope they’re spent with your favorite people and leave you feeling a little closer to knowing what really matters in this precious life of yours.
Stay strong as the onslaught of sales descends upon your digital doorstep. I have utmost faith in your resilience. Godspeed.
other posts you might like…
The Conference Board. (2024). Consumers plan to spend an average of $1,063 on holiday-related purchases.
Fox Business. (2023). Holiday shopping budget overspending report.
U.S. News & World Report. (2023). Ways to sidestep holiday financial stress.
Finder.com. (2023). Unwanted gifts: Americans receive $15.2 billion worth annually.
Stanford University. (n.d.). Reducing waste around the holidays.
I also highly recommend making gifts! Making practical gifts that last for decades like hats, cutlery, or Christmas ornaments is my favorite part of the holidays