For him, her and them.
Fearghal Mulvihill, of The Irish Workshop, writes:
We launched our site, The Irish Workshop, last month. The site is home to some of Ireland’s best independent artists, designers and makers. Everything is made in Ireland and comes directly from the person who designed and made it.
We have lots of items which would make perfect stocking fillers (even if I do say so myself..). Some examples:
For Her: Journal with hardcover based on design of wallpaper from Muckross House – Muckross Book Binders (Eur 14.85); Aran Snood (top) from Aine Knitwear (€50.00).
For Him Irish Stout & Seaweed Shaving Set (centre) from the Soap Box (€29.95)
For Kids: Spotty Dog Sewing Kit from Pippa Blue (above) (€24.95)
Irish-made stocking fillers to broadsheet@broadsheet.ie marked ‘Irish-Made Stocking fillers. No fee.
Shaving set goog,
Everything else cheap tat
The journal is nice.
It will keep my lady feelings looking nice alright
Yeah, I suppose when you put it like that…
Nice design though.
Ha, I just hate arbitrary divisions of gifts into for him or for her. Women like whiskey and beer, men like candles and cooking things. It makes present shopping online more time consuming (no, I am not going to shops at Xmas, what are you mad mate?)
Plus, I want that shaving kit for my legs/pits, both north and south. I’ll smell irresistible to Mr Pidgeoni.
Maybe not the seaweed though on second thoughts….
Don – Word to the wise – stay away from the likes of Mothercare and Early Learning Centre if gender specific things bother you so much.
I will never in a million years understand the delicate flowers who get so upset by shops and other retailers dividing gifts between men and women and boys and girls.
Wise enough not to listen to you.
I feel sorry for Mr Pidgeoni, I’d say you’re an absolute pain in the bottom
Well since I most certainly define my value as a woman through what any man, husband or not, thinks of me, that was a particularly brutal internet burn there Joe.
Unleash the power within
You are a strong (hairy) confident woman.
You are woman, hear you bore.
Well, if I got that kit I wouldn’t be hairy.
ANOTHER SICK BURN OHOH BETTER GET THE BURN CREAM
I will never in a million years understand the delicate flowers who get so upset by shops and other retailers not dividing gifts between men and women and boys and girls.
The journal is right in the sweet spot: A5 and nicely bound. As long as the paper is a nice, creamy stock, I do believe we have a winner. My daily diary – morning portion – reads as follows: contemplate a Jodrell, let out and feed dogs, light censers at shrine to Ronnie and Maggie, eat breakfast, have a quiet but manly cry, go to work.
I maintain that journal is unisex *tees up ancient Friends gag*
I like when they say if it’s for him or for her. It’s my number one question in shops. “For him or for her?” I’ll politely ask the shop assistant, pawing at a boxed item. “For him or for her?” I repeat, the panic rising in my voice, as I survey the ocean of packaging and grab another unit, my brain unable (unwilling?) to make the vital call. “For him or for her?” I wheedle hoarsely, eyes bulging, jamming the gift at the assistant, pointing in vain at the genitalia of passersby, hoping for some sign, some connection to be made.
“FOR HIM OR FOR HER!” I fall to my knees, beating my breast, cursing between tears that ur-division of the perfect human form that brought us to this eternal Yuletide schism.
Then I get up because the tills at M&S are jammers and I’ve a few bits to get in Penneys yet.
Our thoughts are with you during this terrible time of pushback against gender demarcation in fancy goods and gift items. God bless.
This was excellent.
Quality!
Brilliant as ever Caroline :)
We should buy you an A5 hardcover journal based on the design of the wallpaper in the Billiard Room of Killarney’s Muckross House to preserve your thoughts for posterity.
She gets my vote as funniest BS commentator.
Hahaho!
hah ;)
It comes as such a relief to me that I am not the only woman who hates shopping.
Caroline in A-material shocker, who knew?
Very funny indeed.
Call me old-fashioned but there’s nothing better of a cold, miserable January evening than coming home and tearing off the wife’s new fancy lingerie because it’s digging into my hips.