Downtown. One week to go. I see the weak men have given in and begun Christmas shopping.
“They seem to be coming in earlier this year,” says Zoë Breen, behind the counter at the Bernstein and Gold boutique on Yates. “They seem to be more prepared.”
Prepared? I say they lost their nerve. Steady, boys, you want to tell them. Plenty of time left. No need to pull the goalie yet.
Too late. Breen says male customers began showing up at the beginning of December, much earlier than usual. Why? Maybe they were heeding all those warnings about broken supply chains. Or maybe after last year’s COVID-constricted Christmas, when so many traditions went up in smoke (just like the winning scratch’n’wins you accidentally tossed in the fireplace) they forgot they had a stereotype to live up to.
And it is a stereotype, not necessarily backed by fact. A few years ago, an Angus Reid Institute poll found that 10 days before Christmas, 85 per cent of Canadians had already begun hunting for at least some presents. Still, anecdotal evidence says the remaining 15 per cent tilt toward testosterone. Not all men are last-minute shoppers, but almost all last-minute shoppers are men.
At Munro’s Books, they tend to burst in a half hour or so before the front door is locked on Christmas Eve. “You can see that panicked look in their eyes,” says assistant manager Jessica Paul. What do they buy? “Whatever we give them.”
Same thing goes at Robinson’s Outdoor Store. “You can see the fear in their eyes, so I say: ‘It’s going to be OK,’ ” says co-owner Erin Boggs. Some have found it wiser to just say: “You drive” and hand her the keys to the Christmas car: one guy has come in five years in a row and asked her to choose the gifts for his entire family. She keeps the tags in her desk, in case something doesn’t fit. (Pro tip: when in doubt go up a size, not down, she says.)
Maybe 90 per cent of those who shop late are men, says Fernando Beltran at Lugaro Jewellers on Government. “They come with,” — and here he pauses, choosing his words — “fearful expectations, I would say.” They know they want something nice, but are daunted by a lack of expertise that makes them unsure of what to buy. They need some guidance.
That meshes with a Forbes magazine column in which Nicole F. Roberts wrote that one reason men tend to wait until Dec. 24 is that they try too hard. They are so anxious to buy the perfect gift that they dither themselves into doing nothing until Santa is actually loading the sleigh. “They are making it much harder than they need to — not because they don’t care, but in fact, the opposite, because they want it to be just right,” Roberts wrote. “Think of this person as letting the great be the enemy of the good.”
Nice thought, but it kind of clashes with your memory of your dad, channelling his inner Elon Musk/Daddy Warbucks by peeling a 20 out of his wallet and telling the eldest daughter to “go get your mother something.” Eat your heart out, Mr. Darcy.
Historically, Dec. 23 is the busiest retail day of the year in Canada, though those with true balls of holly don’t lurch off the couch and wander into the mall until Christmas Eve itself. I explained to my wife that this is simply a matter of efficient time management, that I was able to enjoy some valuable social time while she was drifting around shopping for my family. “But I forgive you,” I added, because I’m super-magnanimous that way. This brought her tears of gratitude. Great, heaving sobs of gratitude. But I digress.
Remember, it’s not truly last-minute shopping unless the gift card smells like a gas station or the chipped Souvenir of Vancouver Island Canada’s Ocean Playground mug comes wrapped in the Dec. 24 edition of the TC (another pro tip: use the coloured, more festive duct tape). It’s not really time to worry until, as dawn rises on Christmas Day, you seriously consider breaking into the neighbours’ and stealing whatever’s under their tree.
Whatever. It will all be worth it when the giftee unwraps it and says: “It’s perfect. I love it. Did you keep the receipt?” Yes, and it’s date-stamped 11:59 p.m. Dec. 24.
