Whether you love it or loathe it, Valentine’s Day is a celebration that it is impossible to ignore.
It’s a time of rampant cheesiness, where shops are transformed into paradises of pink and red.
There are no products that can’t be given the Valentines’ twist. If it’s pliable enough to be shaped into a heart, you better believe Mr Tesco is going to give it a go.
This in-your-face stuff novelty stuff, with its showy demonstrations of love, is why some people can’t stand Valentine’s Day.
It has become associated with consumerism and the never-ending quest for social media clout.
It’s a day when husbands who haven’t emptied the dishwasher in six months try to make up for it by splurging at the florists.
No wonder so many of us choose to opt out of the madness.
Not me though.
I love Valentine’s Day in all its ridiculous glory.
Valentine’s Day is for friends and families too
Even when I was single, I still enjoyed the camp silliness of it all.
My daughter is also one of the most romantic people I know.
She should have been born in another century, such is her passion for penning unashamedly affectionate letters and poems for her friends and family.
As a pair, we enthusiastically participate in all novelty occasions.
Sometimes we even make up our own.
When school was off last week we had a Spy Day. We skulked around Glasgow city centre with a list of objects to find, for no other reason than daftness is fun.
This Valentine’s Day, my daughter and I will be treating ourselves to one of the many ‘dine in for two’ offers that the supermarkets are running.
It’s an excuse to have steak on a Tuesday and to consume a load of chocolate: what’s not to love about that?
The following day, I’ll make another trip to the supermarket purely for the purpose of buying heavily discounted Valentine’s flowers.
As usual, we’ll pick up a few extra bunches and give them to our neighbours, who we love very much.
Because Valentine’s Day might be dominated by loved-up couples flouting their devotion to one another. But there is something really lovely about having an excuse – or a reminder – to celebrate platonic love too.
After all, the love we have for our friends and family is just as nourishing as the love between significant others.
And some of my best memories of Valentine’s Day are receiving unexpected cards from female friends, or a glittery masterpiece from my daughter.
On the flip side, however, my worst ever Valentine’s Day had all the traditional trappings of romance.
Maybe your friends will appreciate an ‘I love you’ this Valentine’s Day
My boyfriend at the time took me for dinner at a ridiculously expensive restaurant.
It was the sort of place where the waiting staff are a smidgen too solicitous for you to properly relax.
In this shiny venue full of shiny people I was sure I would use the wrong fork and immediately be identified as a working-class interloper.
I had dressed for the occasion but still felt out of place.
And it was on that night that I tried caviar for the first time and some of my suspicions about rich people were confirmed. Caviar tastes like something your body has already rejected and regurgitated. They really do have more money than sense.
There was sultry music, champagne and soft lighting. Yet none of this provoked any feelings in me beyond discomfort.
That’s because this was a last-ditch-attempt Valentine’s Day in a relationship that was nearing its end. No prayers to the gods of capitalism could have saved it: even Cupid’s powers have their limits.
But what Valentine’s Day does have the power to do is to spread a little cheer.
Yes, it’s a bit naff. But the world feels like a pretty horrible place right now.
A few extra ‘I love yous’ can’t do us any harm.
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