"Christmas creep" is the name given to the phenomenon of the Christmas season starting earlier and going on for longer each year, although some might say it is more accurately described as the phenomenon in which people complain about the perception that it is starting earlier and going on for longer each year.
In ye olden days, there was almost certainly little warning that Christmas was about to happen. People used to look to the skies and conclude that there was only a nanosecond of daylight to be had, so it must be time to chop down a tree and string some tinsel around it. Retailers just weren’t interested in selling soap sets and novelty socks back then, so they didn’t bother doing any advertising or window displays. The whole festive shebang was a complete inconvenience to them.
Possibly. My memory is blurred by the fact I wasn’t alive then. I can confirm, however, that there was an interim period in Ireland in which Christmas began on December 8th, which was when people marked the Feast of the Immaculate Conception by driving around car parks getting increasingly tense.
But in the 21st century, retailers’ Christmas begins when it might be fully expected to begin – shortly before, not after, they think consumers will start buying stuff. And given that most shoppers, not unreasonably, like to spread the cost over more than one pay cheque, that means now, right now, while kitchen bins are still bursting with pumpkin mush.
Tomorrow, John Lewis will unveil its new Christmas advertisement in what it says will be a low-key launch. No, it won't be hiring out a cinema in London's West End for the premiere this year.
The department store chain doesn’t trade in Ireland, but its seasonal marketing is so successful at winning eyeballs that the majority of the Irish people are now under the firm impression that John Lewis is a shop frequented by winsome children, intrepid snowmen and sleepy woodland animals.
If this year's ad is any use at all, it will have caused a Twitter civil war by teatime, with some people professing it to be the greatest production in the history of advertising – better even than Penneys, Got a Whole Lot of Things for Christmas – and others muttering that it is Not One of Their Best and therefore Christmas is ruined.
Debenhams’s effort has already made its debut and it’s a visual checklist of all the ingredients that make a modern Christmas: faux fur, fairy lights, ill-fitting heels and kids on scooters.
Although artistically less ambitious than those John Lewis epics, the Debenhams ad has plenty of subtext. It might remind viewers to "order by 10pm for next-day delivery", but the setting of its action in the bauble-enhanced, gift-stuffed world of a Debenhams store sends the clear message that the company would still like you to visit them in person.
It is not mandatory upon seeing Christmas ads to sally forth immediately with bags-for-life, however. The big supermarkets and department stores launch their big expensive television campaigns ahead of time in the expectation that there will be a lag between the moment consumers see the ad for the first time and the instant the message seeps in and viewers realise that their brand is the only one that truly spells Christmas.
That said, after suffering through a mild October, clothing retailers dearly need some early custom this year. If the next seven weeks turned out to be the stuff of Bing Crosby dreams and Richard Curtis movies, that would be fine by them.
Unless the weather turns white very soon, they will fail in their mission to shift all the knitwear and knee-high boots clogging up their stockrooms: poor old Marks & Spencer, for example, remains a sea of unsold winter coats.
All of this weighs on shareholders’ eggnog-addled minds. Conversely, the “Christmas creep” curmudgeons - assuming they really are ignoring marketers’ messages - do other shoppers a favour, as the longer consumers collectively hold out from festive splurging, the more likely it is that retailers will be forced into flash sales (panic discounting).
The "don't mention the C-word" people also do valuable work in making shops think twice about blaring out Fairytale of New York and deploying Santa hats to staff.
The timetable of hype must be carefully managed. But just like getting ready for the party is often more fun than the party itself, so too can the run-up to December 25th feel more “Christmassy” than the actual day. When people tell you their Christmas was “quiet”, what they really mean is, “why are you asking me that? Christmas was over ages ago”. It’s not so much a creep, as a pull-forward.
