You wacky goyim. Here you are, with the greatest holiday imaginable—the tree, the carols, the excessive drinking—and you still decide to take a page from the Jewish people with this craze for Advent gift-giving.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Isn’t the Advent calendar a Christian tradition? Technically, yes. But the operative word in “Advent calendar” is “calendar”—“Advent” means “arrival,” and little kids would do their countdown to Christmas Day by opening up a page in this little booklet and seeing an adorable picture inside. Baby Jesus in a manger, tin soldiers, partridges in their effing tree, whatever. Exciting, precious, wholesome.
But with the Advent brouhaha, you took the thing little Jewish kids hate most about our Hanukkah—carefully opening one present a day for eight days—and made it your own. There is not a kid on earth who doesn’t want to rip into a pile of presents: Gimme!
I blame everything that’s self-denying and overly cautious in the Jewish character on Hanukkah, on the presents carefully parsed out, forcing you to act like an accountant (where, in fact, a disproportionate number of us land), and not the 10-year-old monster you truly are. But if that’s what you people want, who am I to stop you?
And you do want it, in a big way. According to Statista, about 25 percent of holiday shoppers worldwide said they were planning to buy beauty Advent calendars in 2022. For you unenlightened 75 percent, a beauty Advent calendar is a gift box celebrating each day of Advent with a pres. As the Advent period is about three weeks, the happy beneficiaries of the treasure chest make quite the haul. The gifts themselves are often tiny, travel-size treats from a wide range of products, combined with over-the-top (and, some might say, wasteful) packaging. Cynics (you Scrooges know who you are) may suggest that Big Beauty is making you pay for sampling—that is, making a buck on sizes they used to give away for free … but isn’t that the true spirit of Christmas?
There are beauty Advent calendars for every price point and obsession: from nails (OPI) to fragrance (swoonworthy Guerlain and Acqua di Parma), skin care (Eve Lom) to makeup (Bobbi Brown and Charlotte Tilbury), and pretty combos of just about everything (Liberty of London, Harrods, Sephora). After Chanel’s Advent-calendar debacle of 2021 (an $825 calendar with a few munchkin-size fragrance bottles and skin creams, and then “presents” such as stickers and key chains), most companies seem to be trying to give more bang for the buck, including plenty of full-size bottles. (Maison Francis Kurkdjian’s Countdown to New Year’s calendar is an eyebrow-raising $995 for eight days of some full-size bottles of Baccarat Rouge 540 perfume and body oil plus small fragrances, a candle, a room spray and a laundry detergent.) Liberty, for example, claims their whimsical package holds $1,600 worth of product for $320. Such a deal! Are they sure they’re marketing to Gentiles?
I admit I don’t grok the thrill of unboxing videos. For the love of God, it’s a box, and you’re not Scorsese: Just open it. (I’m talking to you, Britany Raquell.) I do love pretty packaging, though, not to mention the moody descriptors the companies come up with. Dior, with tortured alliteration, calls its Tuileries Garden–inspired box a “poetic picture of Paris.” Guerlain’s winter-wonderland cottage is dubbed the “Hive of Wonders.” Acqua di Parma is packaged in a “vibrant orb.” Eve Lom’s clever packaging is shaped like a mailbox affixed with a faux envelope labeled “A Love Letter to My Skin.” (I managed to deface the package when I peeled away the letter, expecting it would say something nice about my skin … O.K., I get a little desperate over the holidays.)
Cynics (you Scrooges know who you are) may suggest that Big Beauty is making you pay for sampling—that is, making a buck on sizes they used to give away for free … but isn’t that the true spirit of Christmas?
Diptyque touts their “majestic” package of 25 festive fragrances. Unfortunately, I can’t verify the majesty of the scents, as Diptyque insisted I return their samples unopened and unsampled. Still, I’m grateful to them for introducing me to the word “calligram,” which, if presented on my verbal S.A.T.’s, would have wrecked my perfect score. (Google tells me it’s a set of words arranged to form a thematically related image. ) The words drawn here—“flamme/lumineux” and “leger”—are meant to form flames, though to me they are vaguely gynecologic. Which may be the point. I’m convinced it’s clever subliminal advertising for the men purchasing these calendars for their loves.
After receiving several Advent calendars as gifts, I realize I have reached a beauty-product tipping point: I have more face serum than I have years to live. This is happy news. (And if it turns out that face serum is flammable, my cremation will be a breeze.) And just so you know, I plan to take it slow. Beginning December 1, I will open one box a day, savoring every new aroma, lip plumper, delightful slick of new cream. One treat a day! All for me! Just one.
That was the plan. All I can say is, I’m glad there aren’t cameras in this room right now. My mother would be mortified.
Judith Newman is a New York–based writer and the author of To Siri with Love
