meganhannay.com

‘Tis the season to be reminding everyone else in the world that ’tis the season to buy your shit.

Starbucks had its “12 Days of Sharing”

Modcloth had its “12 Days in Giftland”

Yelp did “12 Days of Yelpmas” in my last email newsletter

And this kitten-themed site not only enjoyed the obvious pun (“CATmas!”) but also delights us with “snow-falling” javascript and background music. You were warned about the background music.

Marketers love to talk about Christmas. Just like we love to bring up Valentine’s Day and Presidents’ Day and Memorial Day and the 4th of July and the Summer Olympics and Back-to-School and Spring Break!! and any other reason we can use to remind you how our product fits into your daily life.

Marketers also hate January, especially now that “The Big Game” is in Feb (we’re not allowed to say “Superbowl“). I don’t really mind it during all those other times of year. Writing a blog post about Mother’s Day sales is the perfect way to remember to buy something for my own mom.

But like…I’m not going to forget about Christmas.

And now that I’m on the other end of the sales coin (that’s an expression, right?), I spend my holidays thinking up Christmas tweets and blog posts and campaigns and then it dawns on me that I’m actually using Christmas for personal and job-related gain.

(DID YOU HEAR ME? I’M USING CHRISTMAS!!).

And it’s not just me – it’s all of us marketers. Those Coolwhip commercials I used to adore (remember? the dog had reindeer antlers!), the chimney flavored latte at my local coffee chain, seasonal discounts, candy-cane-covered socks they sell at Target, ABC holiday specials, even the funky Google easter eggs – they no longer glow with the magic of selfless holiday cheer.  Those companies all have Megans too, planning and developing events and products to coincide with the emotional high of the holidays.

Sneaky, sneaky marketers. It’s a shocker no one is on to us yet.

And I’m so glad I have a blog on which to address it.

Our tale begins last Saturday. For most of the rest of the world it was December 10. For those of us lucky enough to live in San Francisco, it was SantaCon.

Oh yeah.

It is what it sounds like.

SantaCon is the one day a year, when grown ups (ie – 20-something hipsters) get to dress up in funky outfits, get drunk during the day, get to run around the city feeling like they’re really part of something and participate in countless other shenanigans. Besides Halloween, of course. And Bay to Breakers. And the Pride Parade. And the Day of the Dead. And unusually warm days at Dolores Park. And Tuesdays.

SantaCon is special.

I started off at a my friend Jenni’s house (she blogs here!). She made this Uh-MAZing hot cocoa which also included a tad of marshmallow-flavored vodka. Oh, it was scrumptious.

Her roommates piled in; her other friends came over; it was even someone’s birthday! We were hittin’ it for SantaCon! We took the J (it’s a public transit thing) down to the Castro, and were delighted to find that we were among the very first Santa’s at the bar. (Okay, it turns out that all the other Santa’s were still at the official SantaCon event down at Civic Center, which my group apparently missed, but I’d like to think of us as the holiday heralds of the SantaCon afterparty.)

A Blue Moon and a half later, the bar was filled (FILLED!) with Santa’s and Mrs. Claus’s and elves and more Santa’s and the occasional lame person who thought they could get away with just wearing a red t-shirt. We were so glad we’d gotten there early enough to grab our own table. Because some people just had to stand and drink, and that would especially suck.

And I was definitely into the whole “community Santa spirit” too, until I was trying to get up and take a pee (1.5 Blue Moons will do that to a girl), but I had to pause and wait because the gaggle of Christmas elves in front of our table had to pose for a pic.

I go to the bathroom and come back – have to wait again because pictures are still being taken.

My interest is piqued. What are these girls doing besides taking pictures of themselves in their adorable SantaCon outfits? And then it hits me like a falling chimney – nothing. They are doing nothing besides taking pictures of themselves. I can vouch for this. I was there. I watched.

Facing the bar – take a group pic.

Facing the door – take a group pic.

Hey another Santa just walked in! He’s cute! – take a group pic.

The elf with the mismatched stockings is going to lift her leg in the air!! – take a group pic.

It may have been the beers, or it may have been the fact that I couldn’t get around them to pee, or it may have been the fact that I wish I had thought of mismatched red-and-green stockings, but suddenly Megan was in rant mode.

What the eff is wrong with these people? It’s a holiday in San Francisco – I get it. These only happen about once every two weeks. But don’t you realize that you’re not actually enjoying yourself if all you’re doing is taking pictures? In fact, you’re the opposite of enjoying yourself. You’re creating a picture of yourself enjoying yourself that you will later load onto the internet for the rest of your friends to see!

And you know they’ll feel jealous, because their city doesn’t have a SantaCon. Or even if they were in this city, they probably weren’t with people as fun as the people you were with.

It just irks me sometimes. In some ways we’ve gone from a culture of consumerism to a culture of exhibitionism. Capturing every moment, not just for some book we’ll look at when we’re wrinkly and gray, but more for the kids we were jealous of in high school.

Look where I am now! All having fun and you’re not. I’m in a cute outfit and everything. Doing crazy things with my crazy friends.

Ugh. We’re so generic it makes me nauseous. Or maybe that’s the wine.