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.

Christmas Comes But Once a Year — But Does It Have to Start in November? Or Even Earlier?

I nipped into my local ASDA yesterday and was greeted — actually, I was ambushed — by their Grinch-inspired Christmas extravaganza plastered across the entrance. And apparently I’m already behind the times: the whole thing kicked off on the first of November. 

In true modern fashion, there’s even a YouTube video to usher us into the season of goodwill and maximum spending.

Here it is:

It’s all very commercial, of course. But then, that’s what Christmas has become — a festive excuse to flog as much stuff as possible. Step past the cheery Grinch, and you’re immediately confronted by neat piles of chocolates in “tins.” 

Except they’re not tins any more, are they? They’re round plastic containers, half the size of the tins from my youth. At least, it feels that way. I remember those big tins; you could make your own drum set out of them, and we did.

A fine example of shrinkflation wrapped in festive plastic.

And let’s be honest: anything bought in early November labelled “Christmas chocolates” will never survive until Christmas. I can already hear the household negotiations:

“Mum, can I have a chocolate? Just one.”

The child eyes up the container like a pirate sizing up treasure.

“No.”

“Why not? I only want one!”

“Because they’re for Christmas, that’s why.”

Of course, one eventually gets eaten, then another… Then everyone joins in, and the plastic tub is empty by the weekend. The shop makes another sale, the cycle repeats, and Christmas creeps ever earlier.

I suppose this makes me a bit of a Grinch myself. I refuse to get involved so early — it’s simply too soon. And besides, I haven’t yet heard Noddy Holder yelling “It’s Christmassssss…!” across a supermarket PA system. Until that happens, it’s definitely not Christmas.

The Twelve Posts of Christmas: A Bit of Television Nostalgia.

Well, this will be ambitious. I came up with this idea, a blog variation on the twelve days of Christmas, ambitiously called the twelve posts of Christmas. Ambitious because so far I think the most number of posts that I have done in any month is five. I will have to see how it goes.

So, here's the first one.

The Christmas Radio Times seems to be a tradition for many households. It gets bought even if no one reads it. Here is a selection over the years.

1940. 

With Hitler planning his invasion of Britain, which thankfully never happened, The BBC offered its Christmas Radio Times for two old pence.

1957.

Seventeen years later, and the price had increased by a penny.