By Matt Coker
By R. Scott Moxley
By Charles Lam
By Nick Schou
By Gustavo Arellano
By Gustavo Arellano
By Steve Lowery
By R. Scott Moxley
Courtesy Niemann Marcus.comAll this talk of "gifts" for "others"—it's nice. You know, if you're the kind of person who cares about things like "peace on earth" and "goodwill toward men" and maybe even "thinking of others" and "getting into heaven" and who thinks there's conceivably more requirements for strolling through those pearly gates than a) not cussing and b) keeping it in your pants. The kind of person I'm thinking of is always talking about "the spirit of Christmas" and "the joys of giving" while they bake and decorate and lovingly choose gifts for their loved ones (whom they love) and maybe rustle up blankets for the smelly "man" on the onramp. These do-gooders are the kind of people who are always whistling while they work, and they're so selfless and giving and Christian and perfect. Yeah, you got it. Hippies.
Well, these hippies need to get off the bong and get over themselves. In the OC at Yuletide, we shop for ourselves, bitch! Love it or move to Sweden!
A watch chain for your husband? Sell his watch and buy yourself a comb.
A comb for your bride? Cut her hair off while she's sleeping and buy yourself a ho.
Take this Godiva ad from the LA Times: The diva can only shop for others for so long. She gets hungry, it explains before offering some free truffles (which, suckily, must be redeemed by gift certificate; how hungry you gonna get waiting by the mail???). A little something extra for you, yourself and you.
And that's the way Christmas should be. Habitat for Humanity? I don't fucking think so. Not here, where when women want to get all jiggy and charitable, they make sure to give themselves gifts from Tiffany and where, last I saw the statistic, we gave $1.38 per person to charity per year. Don't be a Bolshevik. Instead, try a Hermes scarf. For you, yourself and you.
One year, my mom sent my dad out to buy Christmas presents for us. He came home with a $200 robe for himself; he'd forgotten the four kids. By all means, don't make this mistake. Teach your children their true place in this world by buying a toy Hummer that at one-sixth scale is approximately the size of a Honda Accord. Teach your children well: that as one driver of an SUV that had actually killed a woman said when she bought a new one, if somebody's gonna die, it had better be the other guy.
Because baby, that's OC.
Or how about teaching your children about beauty? There's nothing wrong with beauty. And they can learn about the beauty of precious jewels through a Swarovski-crystal-encrusted Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, available for a piddling eight grand through the Neiman Marcus catalog. Beautiful—and classy besides.
Now that the tots can be safely ignored for a while (and if they're still yammering for your "attention," try the Haidls' patented gift for all young felons: a 2005 Scion—it's guaranteed to keep kids out of trouble!), it's time to put the focus back on the reason for the season: you. Men? Have you been wanting to get in some time on the putting green, and are your nailbeds looking a little dull? Then it's time once again for a new Mercedes. Fletcher Jones Motorcars doesn't have all day, you know!
And ladies? If you want your husband to not leave you, it's time once again to pump up your rack. You've gotta keep up with the (Devil in Miss) Joneses!
Once you've taken care of those gender-specific basics, you can get around to the rest of your holiday: shopping till you're dropping! Just remember the Christmas-shopping motto: one for you, two for me. What should those items be? Anything you've ever wanted (ever). Especially if you're buying on credit. When you're done with that, don't forget the one gift on everyone's list this Christmas—if by everyone, you mean me.
That's right: the Commie Girl T-shirt (www.commiegirlcollective.com) comes in varying sizes and at least two colors. And all the money goes to me. (I plan to buy a boob job—for the kids.)
God bless me. Every one.