Welcome to Day 17 of our 25 Days of Nostalgia series!
Christmas crackers used to be the pinnacle moment of the festive table.
They weren’t just a bit of decoration or a way to kill time before the turkey (or chicken) was carved; they were a rite of passage.
A brief but glorious mix of noise, cheap plastic, horrid Christmas dad jokes and questionable paper hats. But as I sit here clutching my recent Amazon purchase—nostalgically hunting for ones with fortune-telling fish and nail clippers—I’ve realised Christmas crackers just aren’t what they used to be.
Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand the need for change. The world’s shifted, and eco-friendly crackers are a good thing for the planet. I’m all for cutting down waste and avoiding single-use plastic.
But a part of me can’t help but mourn the crackers of my childhood. The thrill of the “POP!” when you pulled it just right, the little puff of acrid smoke, and the treasure inside (even if it broke immediately) made Christmas feel special.
Table of Contents
A Treasure Trove of Tat
Back in the 80s and 90s, Christmas cracker prizes were unapologetically naff. Nail clippers that barely worked, plastic moustache combs, tiny tape measures, and of course, the iconic magic fish.
- Place this paper-thin red plastic fish in the palm of your hand and its movements will indicate your romantic state
If you don’t remember the fish, you’ve missed out. It was a thin red piece of plastic that curled up in your palm and “told your fortune”—because who doesn’t need a bit of mystery alongside their roast potatoes?
If you were lucky, you’d get a miniature Rubik’s Cube. Granted, you couldn’t actually solve it because the stickers came off in your hands, but that didn’t matter. The joy was in the discovery. The nail clippers were bizarrely useful, and I still think they were the pinnacle of cracker engineering.
(If Rubik’s Cubes take you back, you might enjoy my list of Top 80s and 90s Christmas Toys—it’s a proper nostalgic rabbit hole!)
The Pop of Childhood
Then there was the sound. The pop. That sharp, sulphury crack as you yanked both ends was part of the magic. It marked the official start of the meal, a symphony of bangs echoing around the table as hats were donned and dad jokes began.
Now, I know many of us have moved on from noisy crackers—my family included. My neurodiverse crew will probably appreciate the quiet, but I’m anxious about their inevitable disappointment.
The lack of that pop will probably feel hollow. There’s just something about that instant burst of sound that makes Christmas dinner feel alive.
My Modern-Day Quest
This year, in a desperate bid to relive those simpler days, I scoured Amazon for a pack of “proper” Christmas crackers. It took hours.
I clicked through endless options with muted tones, recyclable paper, and promises of “no plastic gifts” (probably just a paperclip and a smile inside).
Eventually, I found what I was looking for—or so I thought.
- SUPER VALUE PACK: JOYIN Christmas party favor set comes in 10 pieces of 10-inches table favor. Each 10” favor contains a party paper hat, Christmas jokes, and a random little toy or gift inside.
They have all the old-school magic: tiny Rubik’s Cubes, nail clippers, and even fortune-telling fish.
But the inattentive side of my ADHD got the better of me here—they’re “no pop” crackers.
A quiet alternative for those of us who prefer our sensory experiences less explosive. Perfect for keeping the peace, but I can’t help feeling that Christmas dinner will be a little quieter—and maybe a little less magical—this year.
Moving On (But Not Letting Go)
I understand why crackers have changed. The eco-conscious designs, the quieter options for sensitive families, and the shift away from throwaway plastic are all good things.
It’s progress, and I’m on board. But I’ll always miss the tat and the bang of those old-school crackers.
They weren’t just silly novelties; they were a snapshot of the joyful spirit of a tacky 80’s and 90’s Christmas.
The kind of thing that gets you through the long, drawn-out wait for pudding. So, while I’ll be quietly pulling my no-pop crackers this year, I’ll also be dreaming of that smoky little bang that said: Merry Christmas, now pass the gravy (or Ketchup *cringe*)
