The Twelve Posts of Christmas - Day Eight: The Christmas Selection Boxes That Never Lasted Till Boxing Day

 

 

There are certain Christmas traditions that almost everyone who grew up in Britain during the 1960s, 70s or even 80s would experience. 

Let’s start with the once-a-year treat of turkey for Christmas dinner and turkey sandwiches for a week afterwards. Then there was watching the big film on Christmas Day, only ever seen at the cinema before. And once a year, the Radio Times double issue would be bought, and planning for Christmas viewing would begin.

Then there was something that every kid expected — at least one chocolate selection box that would never make it past Boxing Day. 

In many homes, it didn’t even survive Christmas afternoon.

Selection boxes were bright, shiny, and exciting. For adults, they were an easy gift. For children, they were a chocolate-filled treasure.

And for most of us, they were gone within hours.

Although, I have to say, the selection boxes did seem to be a lot bigger back then. Maybe being a child had something to do with that — after all, everything looks bigger when you are a kid. 

But shrinkflation hadn’t been thought of yet. 

The boxes were big and were full of the chocolates everyone loved. A Mars bar, Aero, Kit-Kat, the Crunchie, the Flake, a packet of Buttons, a tube of Smarties and Rolos, to name a few. You would get ten or twelve to a box, and they were all full size — none of this miniature-size, two-bites-and-they-are-gone nonsense.

You can only imagine the sugar high.

I was always convinced that I could pace myself. Every year I’d unwrap the selection boxes and list them from favourites to potential swaps. Inside, the sweets were laid out like jewels: the Flake you could never eat neatly, the Caramel bar that stuck your teeth together, and I was always disappointed if I got a Bounty, because they were difficult to trade. Adults seemed to like them, but they had nothing to swap.

And then there were the negotiations — somehow, I had to offload that Bounty.

The Twelve Posts of Christmas 2025 - Day Seven: When Snow Was Proper Snow

 

Will we have a White Christmas? Where I live, it looks like rain. 

There was a time when I remembered snow at Christmas.

There’s a saying you hear from a certain age group — “We had proper winters back then.” 

It’s usually said after a light dusting of snow causes the entire country to come to a standstill, or the occasional road hasn’t been gritted by the council de-icing trucks. And the telly weather forecaster on 24-hour news gets overexcited about “the possibility of flurries on higher ground”.

Whatever Happened To Snow?

But if you grew up in the 1960s or 70s, you’ll remember that we didn’t need to be warned about flurries. Snow arrived with confidence, and it was expected — the possibility of a white Christmas was high — years before Bing Crosby had told us so. 

Christmas snow was a given. It didn’t tiptoe in overnight like it does now. It marched in, dumped itself in great heaps across every road, garden and playground, and hung around for weeks. It was nice until after a few days it turned to ice, and you spent a week or two looking like a candidate for Britain’s ice skating Winter Olympics team.

Of course, back then, we didn’t have the 24-hour weather news or apps sending red alerts to our phones on the hour. We had the local milkman. I think his name was Stan, whose arrival at the doorstep was the first sign of how serious things were. 

“Cold today, I’ve had to put my gloves on. You won’t need to put these in the fridge.” He said, as the snow fell, covering the top of his hat.

Which was good, because I can’t remember whether we had a fridge back in the 1960s. Many of those mod cons didn’t arrive for us until the 1970s onwards.

Proper Snow

For us, when it snowed, it changed the whole rhythm of life, especially if you were a kid. We wanted snow, as it meant building snowmen and snowball fighting. It was the usual romantic thinking: waking up to a world made soft and silent, other than the crunch of boots on fresh white powder and the breath clouds forming in front of your face. 

The Twelve Posts of Christmas 2025 - Day Six: The Year Parliament Cancelled the Festive Season

 

Christmas Was Once Banned in Britain

It’s strange to imagine, in an age where Christmas seems to start in October, as the shops gear up for a winter spending spree, that there was a time when the festive season wasn’t just discouraged — it was actually illegal in Britain.

Yes, Christmas was cancelled.

In 1647, right in the aftermath of the English Civil War, Parliament cancelled Christmas. And not just for a year or two. For thirteen years, Christmas Day, decorations, feasting, and merriment were all banned by law.

England in Turmoil

By 1647, the first English Civil War had ended. Parliament’s forces had defeated the Royalists after seven years of conflict. But the fighting didn’t immediately stop. There was a brief and bloody second war, and eventually King Charles I was taken prisoner.

Negotiations failed, and compromise was impossible. In early 1649, England executed its king. Power now rested firmly with Oliver Cromwell and the Parliamentarians. The country was declared a republic. In the aftermath, the Church of England was abolished and replaced with a strict Presbyterian system.

And the Puritans were now in charge.

The Ban on Christmas

To the Puritan mind, Christmas had drifted away from its religious roots. They saw it as a day of excess, idleness, drinking, feasting, dancing, and wastefulness. In general, people are having too much fun. It was everything they disapproved of.

So Parliament abolished it.