Today I am dedicating a blog to the magic of the Sear’s
Christmas Wish Book.
Why? Well, as a child of the 90s, it was a clear indication
to me Christmas was truly on the way when a Wish Book arrived at the Bruce
Household. We had to have multiple copies; we fought over getting to have a
turn with the treasured item. And, you better believe you would need a
Christmas miracle to save you if I did not get my filthy child hands on that
book before the new smell wore off. In the country there is not much else to do
when you don’t have cable television to tell you want you want for Christmas,
that was the sole purpose of the Sear’s Wish Book, if they didn't carry it than
it did not matter.
Yes, we needed multiple copies, not only because we would
fight over the book itself, we also fought over the book’s pages and ideal
Christmas presents. Before the internet the easiest way to get a photo of the
items you wanted for your (oh-so-advanced) Christmas list in pictures was to
take it from the Wish Book, this caused endless arguments when clippings stole
the heart of a page with a gift someone else wanted. So getting the Wish Book
first was key, no one wanted the Brunette Barbie… or even worse the Sporty
Spice doll (yes, this was in the era of Spice Girl Dolls). Having all the
details was key, from the item name and color (if applicable) to the exact page
and reference number; these were the things Christmas was made of.
Another reason, a little secret (that I am sure is not
limited to my lovely mother, it is probably as Canadian a problem as dipping
75% of breakfast foods in maple syrup) is that my mother hoarded Wish Books when
I was a kid. They were hidden amongst other normal household items like bedding
etc. I think she started doing this when I was born so that someday my
theoretical future children would be able to marvel in the embarrassing crap I
wanted as a kid. Also, I think she may have thought a ‘Day After Tomorrow’
style weather event was on the way in the future and burning the Wish Books
would help save some of our domestic library from the fire.
Anyways, the moral of this blog is:
1.
You know where to find Wish Books from the late
80s through to mid 2000s (I think she gave up on the collection).
2.
Digital editions of Wish Books may save trees but
they break my heart. You can’t clip things from an iPad and if you are a child
you shouldn't even have an iPad.
3.
No child will suffer from a Wish Book paper cut,
which is the only positive to take from all of this.
I could rant further; I could go on about this topic for a
long time and reference the many gifts that manifested from the Sears catalog pages into my parent’s living room Christmas morning… and even the horrific
burning of the non-plastic parts of my Barbie dream house. But, that won’t
bring the Sear’s Wish Book back its glory… the glory of the pre-internet era.
So do your kids a favour, order them a Wish Book today here:
End rant, its quitting time.
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