SMUG middle-class families have had a wonderful year and would like to ruin yours with round-robin letters concealed in cards like the IEDs of humblebragging. Follow these tips:
Write CVs for everyone
Reuben has grade six piano and is a year ahead at school, his sister is incredible with crayons, you were promoted and your partner stumbled across a bold new proof for Fermat’s Last Theorem. And you’re so f**king self-effacing about it, gosh, while enumerating each and every accolade.
Share the minutae
Once you shared a hall of residence with someone. 25 years later, you’re informing them you’ve gone vegan and it’s doing wonders for your wellbeing, sex life and bowels? They didn’t care when you said the exact same shit then. It pisses them right off now.
Include an incomprehensible anecdote
Begin a paragraph with ‘Of couse, you’ll be wondering what happened to Manny’s farm boat’, assuming everyone remembers the riveting saga from last year, then blether on with phrases like ‘historic scheduling fees’ ‘lost his lobster-potting licence’ ‘under maritime law’ and conclude ‘So in the end, we made £700,000.’
List your travel intinerary
What everyone’s yearning to hear about is everywhere you’ve been this year. After all, who could learn Sardinia exists without a personal recommendation from someone you’re no longer even sure where and when you met? Refer to Peter’s ‘jaunt’ to ‘Bergamo’ with ‘the lads’ where they attended a contemporary photography exhibition.
Sign off with a reminder to ‘be kind’
In case the reader hasn’t got the message yet, you’re a saint. While everyone else muddles along you’re the hero of your own story, spreading light, healing the sick, conquering the moral high ground, leaving a persistent, gnawing sense of discontent in your old friend. Happy Christmas.
