Welcome to Day 19 of our 25 Days of Nostalgia series! (Not long left now).
I was talking to my wife last night, (well the early hours of the morning) and we got on to the subject of what a Christmas without the internet would look like.
We mutually agreed that it’s quite simply a miracle, that we made it through Christmas without the internet.
No online shopping, no Reel or TikTok breaks when family arguments got too heated, and certainly no YouTube tutorials to show teach us last minute tricks on presentation or how to carve the chicken without making it look like a crime scene.
Somehow, we soldiered on, fuelled by trash telly, questionable amounts of booze (for the parents, of course), and the sheer desperation of waiting for that one new game or toy to finally end the monotony.
Table of Contents
Pre-Internet Christmas Prep
Christmas prep in the 80s and 90s was an art form in its own right. Forget online shopping or Amazon Prime—our parents had to actually go to shops. I’ll never forget when my Grandad took me to Toys ‘R Us for the Dreamcast release (playing on the tester consoles made my Christmas).
Fighting for the last Furby or Game Boy in Woolworths was what Christmas dreams were made of. And if they couldn’t find it? Tough luck.
There was no next-day delivery—just tears and the dreaded “maybe Father Christmas will bring it next year.” (or for those of us who had parents that REALLY weaponised Christmas – “that’s what you get for being naughty!” *sobs in 9 year old boy*)
Meanwhile, us kids were left to entertain ourselves with endless rewinding of VHS tapes (Disney Films & Yr Injan Fach Fentrus). By Christmas Eve, we’d memorised entire scripts. And heaven help you if the adults wanted the telly—there was no Netflix to save you.
You’d end up watching The Queen’s Speech or some dreary period drama because, apparently, Christmas was about “tradition.”
The Big Day: Socialising and Survival
Christmas Day itself was a minefield of enforced socialising. No disappearing into your phone to scroll Instagram—you had to sit there and talk to people.
Awkward chats with relatives you barely knew, dodging kisses from someone you were apparently related to, who tell you over and over just how much they remember you, when you were “just this big when I saw you last”.
But then… salvation. The presents.
Finally, the boredom of December was broken by that one glorious gift: the new game for your console. Or maybe a toy you’ve been begging for all year.
Whether it was Mario, Sonic, or something so pixelated you couldn’t tell what was happening, it didn’t matter. You’d spend hours glued to the TV, and for once, no one could complain—because it kept you quiet.
The downside?
I’d be playing on a TV so broken that it frequently went black and white (it was definitely a colour telly). I’d spend half the day trying to figure out why the SCART adaptor wouldn’t work because apparently the TV just wasn’t having any of it. (Turns out it needed a little bit of percussive maintenance and needed to fit ever so slightly on the wonk with some blutac propping it up.)
When I finally managed to get the game working, the real challenge began. If you got stuck on level one, too bad. There were no walkthroughs, no online forums to save the day—just trial, error, and a lot of frustrated shouting at the screen.
Victory wasn’t guaranteed, but it was glorious when it came.
Parent Behaviour: Booze and Tears
Let’s not forget the adults. By mid-afternoon, they’d usually cracked open the sherry (or whisky, or Baileys… or all three) and were well on their way to festive oblivion.
You’d watch them stumble through board games like Trivial Pursuit, getting increasingly competitive and increasingly incoherent (and/or violent).
By the time the Christmas pudding came out, they were in full karaoke mode, singing Slade at the top of their lungs while you quietly prayed for bedtime.
Meanwhile, you’d be making the most of your new game, wondering how long it would take before Grandma noticed you’d spilt your lemonade on the carpet in a sleepy daze.
Trash Telly and Monotony
The evening was a blur of TV re-runs and post-dinner naps. The same films every year (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins), interspersed with Christmas TV specials that were either mildly funny or completely baffling.
You’d play along for a bit, maybe build some LEGO or have a go at your new board game, but let’s face it—the novelty wore off fast. By Boxing Day, you were back to boredom, counting the days until school started again, or at least looking forward to getting the return journey out of the way.
The only saving grace? Leftovers and trifle.
And Yet, We Loved It
For all its monotony, Christmas before the internet had its own charm. It was simpler, messier, and infinitely more tacky. We didn’t have Amazon wish lists or Instagram-worthy table settings, but we had something better: shared moments, laughter, and a lot of dodgy Christmas TV specials.
So here’s to surviving Christmas the old-fashioned way. Now, excuse me while I go finish moving my kids bedrooms around, because 6 days before Christmas is definitely the best time to do it…
