If you are cynical like me, you’d agree that Valentine’s Day is only another excuse that businessmen use to pull digits off your plastic. I have once sworn that I will never celebrate St. Cupid’s Day, just so some briefcase carrying money-thirst can count banknotes while I ponder what I have gotten out of this “special day”.
When it comes to the actual day, however, my disappointment was not concealable when my beloved had completely forgotten about it. (How? HOW?) Over dinner he apologised for the lack of Valentine’s card. “No card is better than an 8p card from Asda”, I replied.
During the credit crunch, shops come up with outrageous products to attract those whose wallets are choked and wilted but still feel compelled to treat their other halves. But if you cannot laugh off the “Valentine’s Half Price Basket” or “Value Valentine’s Meal”. Would it perhaps lead to a moment self-worth questioning?
Tesco says “Treat Someone Special”. Maybe it should really say “it’s the thought that counts”. Why bother with a £25 bottle of Tattinger when you can spend a fiver and get a bottle of carbonated Rosè and a box of heart shaped chocolates? At the end of the day, does this bother you?
Of course I know how much you spend on Valentine’s Day is not indicative of the amount of love being there. It is only a bit harsh that during this commercial celebration, couples cannot joyfully stroll down the road without getting cornered by a businessman who forces them to price each other.
While the poorer portion of the economy struggles to find a reasonable price tag to justify their love, the rich struggle to find meaning to the price tag. Coleen Rooney was showing off her £250,000 rock on a night out. In the world where a Bentley has the worth of a cucumber, only a fish that can blow heart-shaped smoke can ignite those hearts in her eyes.
Remember those Valentine’s when your secret admirer slip a grotty I Fancy You note into your geography textbook? Remember the thrill when you read it? Good times.