The festive clouds follow me like famished ghosts. Grey-bellied, whispering of sleepless nights. A reminder that Christmas is on the horizon, trailing through fairy lights and carols. Tinsel scruffy, half-torn, choking lamposts that had seen better days. Someone else’s joy jangling too loudly, sensory overload. I feel the demons pressing on my neck, walking through days that taste of frost and doubt. The time races at breakneck speed, each breath a question, each hour a bruise. My eyes sunken into sallow skin. Dark charcoal smudges, mascara creeping down my face. It’s a difficult time of year for anyone. The endless shopping lists, scattered runs through crowded supermarket aisles. Festive menus ten a dozen, endless meet ups, a bank account rinsed by mid-November. The grief of loved ones who haunt you always. Imprinted in your heart, squeezing the tears away. I remember how long it took me to actually enjoy Christmas. To erase the memories of an abusive childhood, where gifts were seldom. To brush away the feeling of being an outsider as a teen. To running away from Christmas in my early twenties. But in time, I realized that Christmas could feel good. That the scars lacerating my skin would fade. Instead, there would be hope. Discovering the ultimate vegan Christmas free from harm.
Yet the pain lingers and I become Scrooge. Furrowed frowns at children who laugh and play. Without a care in the world, bitter at their innocence. Wishing I could steal their rose-tinted glasses. That the mirage hadn’t shattered for me all those years ago. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to outrun the storm brewing in my heand. Anxiety’s hand at play. My hands shake, a cinnamon and apple tea cradling my fingers. Watching the steam twirl into my nose and tickle my throat. I long for a time where my belly wouldn’t tighten into knots. My back wouldn’t creak underneath the weight of tension. My heart wouldn’t overwork, no chest palpatations here. But this is me. Watching the ultimate vegan Christmas hum at the window, as I press my warm hand against the glass. Wondering if I could capture the magic of the festive season once more.
The temperatures drop and I shiver. Bundled in more layers than I have common sense. Pink-tinged nose, blue-stained hands, ruddy cheeks. Lips cracked and bleeding, yet there’s something here. As the early mutterings of Noel arrive, I reframe my thinking. That well of sadness becomes a quiet seance for Xmas tranquility. Writing a to-do list mindfully. Ordering the vegan seitan Turkey, marinated in garlic. Planning a vegan festive cheeseboard, the one thing I miss. Pouring a glass of non-alchoholic red wine, dancing with star anise and grape. I swallow back my tears, and paste a smile. Remembering what it was like to feel hopeful. To re-live the time where I fell in love with a colourful Christmas for the first time. A white Christmas tree gifted by my Aunty, resplendent in blue tinsel and red baubles. The Christmas songs that I pretend to hate playing on loop as I danced around the kitchen. Three cats looking on with inquisitive stares, me and my partner in matching red satin pyjamas. My Aunty, cousin and his girlfriend sitting round the table. The smell of roast potatoes laced with rosemary lingering in the air.
I remember then, how to recapture that joy. Sinking my teeth into a gift guide that would teach me how to discover my sparkle. To live life in the moment, humming under my breath. As I tap my red chipped nails at the laptop. Conjuring a story of festive hope and redemption. There would be vegan food and drink, that would come to me as though I was in a dream. A vegan Christmas brownie cloaked in sugar and sin. Merry Christmas crawled in white icing across rich chocolate. I bite, and for a moment the ghosts are fed.They soften, chocolate-mouthed, purring their approval in the hollows of my ribs. But there was something missing. What would balance out the rich chocolate that had seeped into my teeth? The ultimate Vegan Christmas wouldn’t be complete without a glass or two. Non-alcoholic sparkling wine, bubbles rising like prayers that forgot their gods. No alcohol to drown in, only lightness—a fizz of false stars I let burst on my tongue.The clouds hiss, jealous of the sparkle, but tonight, I sip rebellion. I feel buzzed, dopamine coursing through me like adrenaline. Run the bath, pour some scented bath oil, clogging the water. The fragrance is woody Christmas, Geranium offset by bitter Juniper. A hint of lime, a touch of rosemary. I sink into its watery folds. Watch my hair fan out like a tangled halo. Bubbles, a reminder that I am here. Silent Night plays outside, and I can’t help but agree. The dark midnight sky oddly quiet, the trees starting to lose their leaves.
I lean back against the shape of rest, rose-scented eye masks on. My tension unfurling like poison ivy waiting to strike. Petals of warmth melting the cooling of November nights. Drifting through starlit snow, wrapped in the hush of Christmas calm. Could there be healing properties in planning the ultimate vegan Christmas. Sleeping like a baby for the first time in months. Cradled in the comfort of a fluffy gingerbread blanket. The sound of a black cat, generously sized snoring beside me. The white noise track to my reclamation of Christmas. The next morning I yawn, groggily startled at the knocking at the door. Bleary eyed, purple fleeced Hello Kitty PJs on. A parcel, the one I had been waiting for. I sit on the sofa, painting survival in contrasting colours. Cobalt eyeshadow sinking into my hooded lids, the colour of courage. A revolt against the reds and greens that Christmas dictated. My lips? The darkness blushed. A creamy brown-off red, dark as mulled wine, I crave a glass. Imagining it shattering, broken into a million shards of mulberry.
Somewhere outside the sleigh bells beckon. Whispered conversations of visiting Santa Claus at the North Pole. Talk that would normally rub me raw, but I find myself nodding. The spell broken, anxiety taking pause. The dark nights of October, where I could barely get out of bed dissipitated. The true festivities aren’t here just yet. The lights are switching on soon. The Christmas trees in Central are being planned. The ultimate vegan Christmas supermarket ranges are available to pre-order. But still, I get caught up in the excitement. Hanging laughter from my ears, sparkly lobsters glinting when I move. Dangling like defiant constellations, tiny totems against despair. Today, I have purpose, wrapping presents in reindeer tracked paper. The design crinkling under my fingers, I abruptly laugh. Remembering why I ask my partner to help me. The wrapping paper ripping under my clumsy hands. In the quiet after wrapping paper, I clean the wreckage with printed cloths. Patterns traced like secret gardens, woven into festive grace. The ghosts retreat, unsure how to haunt beauty.
But it took a board game to realize what Christmas was all about. Cards whispering questions that i’m finally brave enough to answer. My proclaimations shocking the howling winds outside. Realizing that there was beauty in the good and bad. That I had been striving for perfectionism that didn’t exist for the longest time. That it was OK to let go of control and live in the moment. That the festivities didn’t need to be controlled and sanitized to put into a neat little box. The ultimate Vegan Christmas was messy and chaotic. It was real. Snatched laughter, yes, cheeks red from frost-bitten nights. But there were bad times too. A vigil to my sanity, that I lost in the process. Realizing i’d burnt the candle at both ends. When I started being spontaneous, I realized life was better. Christmas was more exciting. I’d flip through pages of green alchemy. Falling in love with cooking all over again. Letting roots and herbs teach me the language of enough. Not cooking a typical festive meal, at least in Western culture. Brazillian Feijoada paying homage to my Portuguese roots. Black beans slow-cooked, kissed by citric orange. Vegan pork tenderized, laced with garlic, dancing on a bed of butternut squash. I took one last bite, and happy sighed. The ultimate vegan Christmas had lifted my mind, body and soul. I couldn’t wait to share its magic with the world.
Starting now…
Vegan Food & Drink
Vegan Food
Cake Or Death Merry Christmas Brownie
Today, I woke up green. Not the holly kind that spreads Christmas cheer. But the Grinch at his worst shade of despair. The fairy lights flickered like they were mocking me. The kettle sighed louder than I did. Even the baubles seemed to whisper, same old misery, huh? I burned the toast and stepped in tinsel. The Christmas tree leaned sideways, like it too had given up. That familar panic taking over, making me over-think, over-do. Sure, some would say it was too early for the ultimate vegan Christmas decor. It’s not even December. But I don’t like the idea of decorating for two weeks. It seems like a waste. After all, the carolers are singing, sounding like broken toys. Their cheer stretched thin across frozen pavements. I burn the soy candle that promises ‘festive comfort’. It smells like exhaustion, the ghost of Christmas burn out. Drifting between mulled wine adverts and regret. Somewhere, a neighbour’s blow up Santa deflates, and I chortle. I shouldn’t laugh. But when the wrapping paper snarls, and the tape disappers, I relish it. Knowing i’m not the only one being toyed with by the Christmas demons.
The ultimate vegan Christmas brownie, dare I say the best on the planet. In other news i ‘m currently eyeing up their vegan Yule Log!
The angels intervened, a pink leopard print parcel waiting to be unwrapped. My sour mood lifted, a Cake Or Death Merry Christmas Brownie. Dark as chocolate midnight, I took a bite. The brownie notes hit first. Rich, unapologetic, the sweetness unfurling, slow as forgiveness. The green clouds abbove my head started to taste like cocoa instead of dread. I feel guilty as my teeth nip at the white fondant icing. Silver shimmer coating my lips like an over-dressed bauble. But I remember that I deserve this happiness, and the sun seems to agree. Peeking through the wisping clouds, desperate to be un-hidden. The cold winds silenced temporaily. My teeth marks are joined by others. My partner who stole a bite when he thought I wasn’t looking. But the thick fudge crumbling around his lips is a tell-tale sign. I smile impishly, stealing the slab off him. I take one last bite, letting the darkness taste a little sweeter tonight. Maybe joy doesn’t come in grand gestures, but in small, edible miracles that remind you—even the Grinch had dessert before his heart grew three sizes.
Tracklements Seasonal Jams
Once I got into the swing of the ultimate vegan Christmas planning, I couldn’t stop smiling. A velvet ribbon, gold not red—the one I saw in Covent Garden. A tin of marzipan truffles from the market, vegan, dusted with sugar like new snow. A night in red satin pyjamas, Love Actually on repeat. A tabby cat with soft gold eyes making biscuits on my cuffs. I would make a list and check it thrice. Tick, clementines stacked like tiny suns. Tick, a walk past Oxford street lights where even strangers look a little kind. Tick, a letter to Dad i’ll never send, sealed with nutmeg and nostalgia. Outside, the choir stumbles through “Silent Night.”
Inside, I write, erase, rewrite—wanting nothing more than to keep this feeling wrapped and warm. I hang the red velvet stocking, and leave cookies out for vegan Santa. Carrots for his reindeer, they’re organic didn’t you know. He writes me a letter, for the first time in my life. That he’s had enough cookies, that his stomach hangs below his belt. He urges me to come up with something new, whatever will I do?
When it comes to jams Tracklement is award winning for a reason. The ultimate vegan snack.
Tracklements came to the rescue, sending their elves to deliver something special. The first, Fresh Chilli Jam Peanut Butter, sticky-sweet. Award-winning smooth, gentle heat that packs a punch. Partnering with the peanut butter aficionados at Yumello for a feisty and nutty flavour. But what could I make for Santa? It had to be something healthy, creative and new. It came to me like a flash of lightening, i’d always loved Vietnemese food. Maybe Santa did too. Conjuring a spicy yet sweet Banh Mi, with tofu, lemongrass, pickled carrot, lettuce and coriander. The peanut-chilli jam a surprising addition I never knew it needed. I’m not a fan of peanut butter in cooked food. But this one was fresh. Served with a red cabbage and carrot slaw on the side. A glass of sugarcane juice, the ice long melted. The second jam, garlic and shallot infused. A rich slow-cooked preserve with a deep and mellow flavour. Sure, he said no to cookies. But noone could resist a festive vegan cheeseboard. Vegan goats cheese slathered across crostinis. A crack of black pepper and sea salt. Onion jam on the side, a sparkling non-alcoholic wine to serve. I woke up the next morning with hope. Sure enough he’d devoured every last crumb, a thank you note on the side. Inside? A gift for eternal happiness for the rest of her life.
Prices
Peanut Butter Chilli Jam £4.99
Garlic & Shallot £4.20 ( out of stock)
A.Vogel Herb Salts
It was my first vegan Christmas, though i’d been half here for years. Vegetarian since I was 17, still chasing ghosts of milk and butter. Old comforts that clung like tinsel long after December had ended. True, I had my reasons. Someone who had several severe allergies, that made it difficult to be fully vegan. That had a number of chronic health issues. But a few months ago, I crossed the line for good. The fridge looks different, vegan meats, cheeses, and milks gleaming like frost. Now its real, the first Christmas where every choice feels like rebellion and relief. Walking through Christmas markets gleaming with gold paper. Sniff oranges, cinnamon on my fingers. Roast chesnuts by the open fire. I feel light, for once, in my own skin. My hands numbed by November winds, warmed by vegan hot chocolate. Cream sinking into dark chocolate folds. A marshmallow, gluey, sticks to your mouth. I couldn’t help but feel excited, to plan my special day. Scrawling menus across battered notepads, vegan food and drink, activities too.
I know salt might seem like a strange ultimate vegan fave, but it goes in pretty much everything. I love it.
Christmas Eve lentil loaf spiced with orange and clove, carrots lacquered in maple. A pudding laced with cinnamon and star anise, plunged into vegan custard. I went back to the drawing board. It was too sickly, too sweet. It didn’t feel like me on a plate. It felt safe, generic. I wanted the ultimate vegan Christmas to land with a bang. That’s when I remembered. The three herb salts in forest green, the promise of something good. Drawing on the natural flavours to conjure a feast for the senses. Herbamare® Herb Sea Salt, with 13 different vegetables, parsley conspiring with leek. Traditionally harvested by hand from unique salt marshes in Aigues-Mortes. I imagined a spiced winter squash soup engulfed in coconut cream. Smoked paprika, a crack of rainbow pepper. Toasted sunflower seeds marinated in herb sea salt and garlic. A vegan seitan roast stuffed with chestnuts, garlic and herbs. Gravy laced in port ladled over crispy rosemary roast potatoes. Sauteed green beans with toasted almonds. Roasted parnsips serenading sweet carrots. For dessert, a salted tahini & almond tart with orange zest. A sprinkle of Herbamare® Herb Low Salt, a hint of lemon and basil.
My other ultimate vegan Christmas menu choice? Indian inspired, crispy masala pakoras dipped into coriander mint chutney. A jackfruit and lentil curry, swathed in garam masala. Garnished with curry leaf, and star anise. Flaky, buttery samosas bursting with peas, carrots and potatoes. Saffron rice with a coconut-cashew vegetable korma. The star of the show? The tumeric and chilli Bombay potatoes, Herbamare® Spicy Sea Salt sprinkled generously for crunch. A hint of horseradish and black pepper, warming spices. Roasted carrots and parnsips waving hello at fenugreek leaves. Lemon-scented green beans with toasted cashews.It feels strange, like learning my own language again,but my hands move with purpose.There’s pride in this small defiance, a quiet promise that kindness can taste like joy.Outside, the sky hums silver.
Inside, I stir and taste,and finally—it feels like Christmas is mine.
Prices
Herb Low Salt £3.99
Herb Sea Salt £3.25
Spicy Sea Salt £3.25
Peppersmith Mint Collection
For the longest time I was self-conscious of my smile. Grinning beneath frost-bitten lights. Yellow-stained teeth jagged like icicles. Each crooked edge catching holly’s glow. Every polished smile I pass
feels like snow on graves, perfect, unreal, untouchable.I have worn this jagged grin like armor, shadows settled between gaps, longing sometimes for gleaming alignment, a smile without whispers of fracture. Yet I grin anyway, crooked constellations catching cold warmth. Smiling despite the mocking voices, that shame me for imperfection. Because even crooked teeth can hold the brittle magic of Christmas night. Staring in the mirror, learning to embrace myself despite the flaws. I couldn’t afford to get my teeth straightened, but it was the ultimate vegan Christmas wish anyway. That I might win big in a lottery I never play, criss-crossed buck-teeth, smoothed into submission.
I’ve mentioned Peppermint before. That’s because it is my favourite gum and mint brand without the nasties. The ultimate vegan chew.
I try and ward off the tooth decay, plaque coating teeth like an unwanted visitor I never invited in. Gums bleeding, on the waiting list for a dentist that never seems free. Floss twice daily, string between my teeth. Mouthwash, I cup my breath, taste the fuzziness of aging like vintage film. I unwrap my Peppersmith Taster Pack, sugar free mints, gums and pastiles to help keep my teeth healthy. Everything sweetened with 100% xylitol, a naturally derived ingredient. Could dental care taste this good? I reach for extra strong mints first, stubborn garlic breath erased. I was taste-testing a vegan turkey, stuffed with garlic and thyme. Natural eucalyptus oil, English peppermint from Hampshire and natural menthol lingers. Like a buffet, I wrap my tongue around the tasters. Strawberry mints, a burst of British summer at Christmas. Nostalgic, remembering strawberries dunked in vegan double cream. A dash of vanilla for that extra oomph. Blow a bubble, English spearmint gum from a little farm in Hampshire. Peppermint gum certified by the British Dental Health Foundation. My smile felt brighter than it had in a while. Something fun to finish, my favourite of them all. Sicilian lemon mints, fused with British mint, it tasted like a holiday I wished I could take.
Price £17.99
The Protein Ball Co
I find it hard to excercise in winter. The holly twisting its thorns through my chest,tinsel tangled in my ribs. The world is dark, clouds heavy with the promise of snow that never comes. Fat raindrops hammering at my window. I press my face against the glass. Hear the roar of cars with engines long gone. Buses trailing through rain-splattered pavements. I should run, breathe in the winter air. Feel the wind rush through my broken bones. I should feel alive, but I don’t. Every muscle screams surrender, as I lift my feet. A grudging march beneath candleless windows, my breath rising like haunted smoke. I drown out the noise of the crowds around me. Wish I had some headphones to erase their memory. But i’m stuck in the mud, the cold pressing Christmas against my skin. I can’t seem to find the motivation. Imagining myself burrowed under crinkled sheets and well-worn blankets. How do people run when I only want to run from my problems. Stuck in the endless loop of my mind that never seems to switch off. It didn’t help that protein snacks were boring. That powdery aftertaste lingering on my tongue, long after it was eaten.
To be honest I usually hate protein snacks. They taste like s**t most of the time. But these protein balls? I polished off three flavours in the space of 5 minutes. The ultimate vegan snack.
I sit cross-legged on the sofa, another stormy day, the rainclouds threaten to brew over. I’m miserable, I need to head outside. Grab a couple of bags of The Protein Ball Co, a vegan snack for when I get tired. I photograph until my fingers cramp, and my shoulders tense. Walking a little further until I find a bench overlooking the river. The honk of geese, waddling up next to me, jabbing beaks waiting for food. But this is all mine. I close my eyes. Reach for the peanut butter bag, and hope for the best. Roasted peanut butter and chunky peanuts on my tongue. Rich, salty and nutty, infused with juicy dates. I’m surprised at the intense flavour, polishing the bag off in one go. No added sugar, gluten-free and high protein. I feel energized. The sluggish ghost hugging my bones, fading away with a scream. From there, the Christmas love affair begins. Lemon and pistachio, zingy and nutty. Roasted cashew butter that keeps it creamy, a hint of Spanish lemon. Rolled with cashews and finished with bright green pistachio nibs, it’s delicious. Salted Caramel that feels like a naughty surprise, still healthy. Sticky caramel notes offset by pink Himalayan salt. A protein boost that gave me the energy I needed to continue my shoot, without the nasty junk. The ultimate vegan Christmas in one small bag.
Price £18.99 for the plant-based bundle
Vegan Non- Alcoholic Drink
Wildlife Botanicals Non-Alcoholic Sparkling Functional Wine
My relationship with alcohol has always been complicated. Memories of my alcoholic Grandad abusing my grandma. His words like snowflakes turned to knives, fists hammering winter into mottled skin. Their ghosts now, but still the memories linger. Wishing things could have been different, that she could have left him and lived in peace. How he had beaten the children too, my Aunty reporting him. The police doing nothing, saying it was between husband and wife. The rage I felt when she told me, noone should have to go through that. My own experiences with alcohol were toxic too. Remembering times at uni where I was blackout drunk. I didn’t know it then, but I drank because of peer pressure. Forced into situations where I wasn’t comfortable. Overcrowded, noisy, busy places, where bodies pressed up against me. Sure, I never had a problem with alcohol. I was someone that was ‘too in control’, who struggled to let go. But there were lapses. A person who spiked my drink, on a date I wished I never went on. Waking up covered in vomit, clothes off. My third year of uni, I got really sick, and became sober. Not drinking for a few years after that. In my mid-twenties I drank again. Not to an extreme, but to have fun. Immersed in a new industry where it was the norm.
The moment I took a sip of Wildlife Botanicals I fell in love. I can’t explain it. I felt buzzed and happy. It tasted like liquid nectar. It was the ultimate vegan tipple for Christmas.
Now? It has been a year since I have been sober again. On anti-depressants where I am unable to drink. When I began drinking again, I didn’t have those negative feelings towards it. I enjoyed it. I still do now, just sober. Finding non-alcoholic alternatives for the ultimate vegan Christmas gift guide, that still gave me that ‘buzz’. I reached into the cupboard, my novelty Christmas flute still standing from last year. A snowman with a wooly hat dressed in red and black. At the back, was Wildlife Botanicals non-alcoholic sparkling wines. A vegan sparkling wine brand that I had been introduced to at Parched. A no and low alcohol drink showcase. I found them at the end, wished I had seen them sooner. All Cornish charm and laughter, a group of three. Two wine bottles dressed in flowers. From then, I was hooked. Eagerly awaiting the day where i’d have them again. The Go Wild Selection Gift Pack, catching my eye. It was rare that I found a non-alcoholic drink where I felt buzzed. Relaxing into the sips of sparkling wine. But with Wildlife, it felt addictive. Starting with the Sparkling Blush in a 20cl bottle. Award-winning, refreshing, dry and sophisticated low alcohol (0.5% ABV), it felt grown up. Not the grape juices masqerading as ‘wine’. How unsatisfied I would feel. But the blush felt like liquid nectar, vitamins and minerals in every 125ml glass.
Damask rose, whispering to zesty lemon balm. Rosemary and Ashwagandha. A functional wine that made me feel good. Tempering at the edges of my anxiety, I found a real smile licking at my lips. #BubblesWithBenefit, I would say, the addition of Damiana lifting my mood. It felt like the lift of energy I needed, Niacin to reduce tiredness. Vitamin B6 to make me feel better. It wasn’t a miracle cure, but one bottle had me craving more. The 20cl Wild Life Sparkling Nude, for me to enjoy the next day. The taste of young green banana on my lips, a hint of seasonal gooseberry, and greenage. Admittedly, I always preferred a rose to a sparkling white wine. And a red to a rose. But here, the two were on par. Offering something different that had me coming back for more. Was it any wonder Wildlife Botanicals were voted ‘best in class’ ‘ by acclaimed wine critics including Fiona Beckett in The Guardian and Jane Parkinson on BBC’s Saturday Kitchen?
The cans, and 75CL bottles had me thinking of the Ultimate Vegan Christmas. The cans ideal for a romantic picnic with my partner. Burrowed into thick faux fur jackets, and fleece gloves. The cold biting our cheeks as we lay out our red tartan blanket. I would pack vegan snackies. Vegan sandwiches with brie and smoked ham. Tomato and vegan cheddar quiches, cut up into chunks. Jalapeno olives, and sundried tomatoes. Vegan scotch eggs dunked into Tartar sauce. There would be smoked nuts, and homemade crisps. A can of blush and nude, we’d take it in turns to sip. Admiring abstracts from an original piece of artwork ‘Ecosystem’ by Cornish artist Sarah Trewhella. But the 75cl bottles were stunning, in gorgeous presentation gift packs. 60% fewer calories than Champagne or Prosecco, brimming with plant power. A special centrepiece for the table. Two bubblies on a Christmas tree table. The nude bubbly quivering in the glass, like trapped frost caught mid-shiver. Blush bubbly, warm and rosy, sweetness curling along the rim. A teasing whisper against the tongue. The table groaning under the weight of candied roots and spiced nuts. Citrus pierced with cloves, candles flickering in short, uneven breaths. Frost clawing the window pane, streetlights glaring through the drifting snow.
*P.S Use the code VEGANA10, for 10% off your next order! It is worth every penny!
Price Go Wild Selection Gift Pack £49
1 x 75cl bottle Wild Life Sparkling Blush in presentation gift pack
1 x 20cl bottle Wild Life Sparkling Nude
1 x 20cl bottle Wild Life Sparkling Blush
1 x 250ml can Wild Life Sparkling Nude
1 x 250ml can Wild Life Sparkling Blush
1 x Gift card to add your personal message
Caleno Non-Alcoholic Spirits
Santa swelters in a straw hat, his red suit clinging like tar, the sleigh lies abandoned in the sand, replaced by a canoe full of suspiciously merry parrots. He imagines the ultimate vegan Christmas through a tropical lens. The sun scorches, relentless, coconuts swinging like unruly ornaments,and I sip something sticky, rum-less, wondering if this is what salvation tastes like—or just a cruel joke played by the ocean. Crabs scuttle beneath chairs, stealing fruit with tiny, audacious claws, and somewhere, a steel drum carols off-key, mocking my woolless, glitterless despair. I laugh anyway, barefoot, sweating, letting the sand stick to sunburned arms. Christmas arriving in the tang of salt, the hum of waves, and the absurd, stubborn joy of surviving a festive apocalypse under the tropic sun. In my mind I am one of Santa’s elves, on a holiday in the Carribean. Lounging in a deckchair, frizzy curled hair sticking to the nape of my neck. The waves lapping at my feet, coral washing up on shore. The sound of children nearby playing Beach volleyball makes me smile, I throw the ball over.
Before, when I would drink I loved rum in mocktails like mojitos. Now, Caleno has given me a non-alcoholic one to make mocktails at home. The ultimate vegan rum.
It dosen’t feel like Christmas in this imaginary day-dream. The weather is too hot, cloying heat suckling at my skin. Olive arms mottled with red, I lather suncream. But the idea is appealing, a holiday in the sun. No to-do list 10 miles long. No pushing back emails that threaten to swallow me whole. Instead, there is tranquility, a slower pace of living. The ultimate vegan Christmas, mocktails in hand. They appear out of thin air, two Caleno bottles. I remember them from years past. Light and Zesty up first, a deliciously tropical gin alternative distilled with pineapple, lemon peel, juniper and Colombian Inca Berry. I imagine a Winter Citrus Spritz, sparkling water infused with blood orange juice. A teaspoon of maple syrup for sweetness, balancing out the ‘light and zesty’. Pomnegranate seeds and rosemary to garnish, winter sun in a drink. I start to make a second drink with Caleno Dark and Spicy. Infused with pineapple, coconut and ginger, you want to surprise someone special. That cute guy in the water, ginger beard trailing his chin. The one i’ve been dating for 6 and a half years. I infuse it with ginger beer, a dash of agave syrup. Ice bobbing in the pool of brown liquid. Candied ginger and nutmeg, he smiles at me across the ocean.
Price: £18.50 each on Amazon
Vegan Beauty
Vegan Makeup & Skincare
Weleda Skin Food Ultra Dry Oil
For as long as I remember, I have always had dry skin. Elbows that crack like winter soil, frosted and fragile. Knees scraping against the brush of fabric like sandpaper. A coyxyx that blooms with rough patches, fingers that flake like forgotten pages. I pour lotion across my body, barely a balm, sinking into parched valleys. The winter air steals moisture, pressing the ache of dryness into every crease and pore. My lips are chapped, that familuar crust biting into my skin. My skin feels like brittle leaves, each patch scattering across porcelain, leaving grey maps in the bath. I submerge myself in a bath, feel the heat lick at my skin. But I can’t scrub away the evidence, dead skin floating like ghosts i’d rather not see. My partner calls me porous, and I grimace. Someone who is so clean, marked in gray. I press my hands together and make a wish to someone I don’t believe in. Rubbing cream into towel-dried crevices, the familuar itch gnawing at me once more. I hope for Christmas rain, even if it only comes in bottles and fleeting scented streams. Anything to make my skin smoother.
Weleda has a range of vegan products such as this ultra light skin food oil. The ultimate vegan skincare saviour.
Lo and behold, the ultimate vegan Christmas genie had heard my wishes. Spreading their net wide, leaving a stocking by my door. The note read ‘love from your dry skin fairy’ and I smiled with glee. Weleda Skin Food Ultra Dry Oil, that was light, non-greasy and felt like TLC. I grab the bottle and spray it onto rough patches as a test. The spray absorbing quickly, my skin glowing from within. At first, I was cynical, dry skin didn’t go away overnight. That was true. It wasn’t a miracle cure, but somehow I felt softer. A nourishing mist with enriching plant oils. Extracts of pansy, organic calendula, organic rosemary and organic chamomile. The winter frost tried to nip at me, worried it’s plan to get me down wouldn’t work. I sprayed it away, revelling in the new softness of my skin. Sure, there was still dead skin. A graveyard of fragments tracing stories on my body. Hiding behind cheap fabric that’d sink its claws into my back. But I couldn’t deny that the genie had nailed it. Absorbing instantly, without clogging up my skin. I used it for my body mostly, but on my face it felt right too. Roscsea patches hard and rough, fading into pink squeals. A glow that felt just right.
Price £15.95 ( Boots)
Olverum Bath Oil
I used to treat myself as a deadline. Someone who was all work and no play. I pushed myself beyond my limits not caring for the conseqences. The exhaustion that would seep into my bones. Refusing myself rest, i’d sleep when I was dead. I polished my tiredness like a trophy, counting deadlines instead of memories. Christmas was no exception—I’d wrap work in red ribbon and call it joy.
Pretend that noise and glitter could drown the ache. While others carved roasts and laughter, I carved myself smaller, chasing approval like it might taste of peace. A copy and paste smile, but I was dead behind the eyes. Years of self-neglect mocking me like the demons that pressed down on my throat. I choked back tears, and swallowed my feelings. Noone would see how much it hurt. I laughed harder than anyone else. ‘I just love your energy’ they would say. Not knowing how much it cost to make myself sparkle. I try and do things differently now, but I catch myself slipping into old habits.
Olverum is another one that has been a cult favourite in my household for years! The ultimate vegan bath soak.
I watch the hot water pool in the tub, a book waiting on the side. A ginger long-haired cat stretched out waiting for cuddles. I scratch between her ears, her favourite spot. Her purrs reverberate, and I try to ignore the noises. The voices in my head that tell me I can’t relax. That its not safe to let my guard down. Danger, danger, everywhere. I drop in Olverum, and pretend I am on a spa day. The ultimate vegan Christmas surprise from myself. Tucking my hair into a lemon patterned shower cap. Closing the blinds, slipping out of my clothes. The scent of rosemary, lavender and juniper perforating the air. I drop in oil until the air smells soft. Sink my feet into its oily waters. Close my eyes, breathe in, breathe out. Its not enough to thaw my thoughts. I think of every Christmas I vanished, a ghost at my own table, watching others feast while I kept score of what I hadn’t done, who I hadn’t become. I try and re-focus. Cast my attention back to the spa day my partner got me a few years ago. The masseuse kneading expert fingers into tense muscles. The bubbles of the hot tub tickling my feet. When I step from the bath, the mirror fogs, hiding me. For once, I don’t rush to wipe it clear. Let the blur stay—it’s softer that way, a face still learning what love looks like.
Price £29.50
Space Masks Rose Scented
My Aunty is the bravest person I know. A stage three stomach cancer survivor. A woman who raised my cousin as a single mum. Who had the courage to escape an abusive marriage. Who would stand up to my abusive granddad, even when he would turn on her. She’s fierce, loyal and kind. Someone who always thinks about others before she thinks about herself. She’s tough, with words that sting sometimes. She’s stubborn, impossibly so. But I love her for her honesty. For her strength. How she keeps going despite the adversities she has faced. 10 years ago when she had Cancer, I never thought the worst. I knew, as awful as it was what she was going through, that she would survive. She’s always there for me, even when she is in pain. Even when we have differing opinions. Even when I roll my eyes at her, and claim indifference. In reality, I love her so much.
The Royal Marsden Hospital is where my Aunty had her stomach cancer surgery and treatment. Forever grateful. That’s why I am supporting Spacemasks for the ultimate vegan gift with heart.
So for this ultimate vegan Christmas, I want to celebrate her, good and bad. Celebrating her journey to better health with Space Masks. Whose collaboration with the Royal Marsden hospital brought back memories. That’s where my Aunty went, when she had treatment. Her chemo, her surgery, her many check-ups. I place the red box in her hands, make her close her eyes. Count to three, 1,2,3. She opens them and smiles. I tell her that they are rose-scented, her favourite. A reminder of beautiful English gardens that she loved to see. So different from the tropical flowers back home in Madeira. If anyone deserved relaxation it was her. Granted, she wasn’t able to as much as she could before Cancer. She had to give up work. She had to rest more. Say no to things that would make her feel ill. But she still does so much. She runs errands. She cooks and cleans. She offers advice, even when you don’t want it. She lifts up self-heating mask and places it over her eyes. The Traitors in the background, as she sinks into the sofa. Before long, I hear a soft snore. The tension relieved, as she settles into a small nap. I smile, tuck a blanket over her. Feeling good that all profits from the mask go to the Oak Cancer Centre appeal.
Price £16.50
By Terry Rouge Opulent Collection
At uni, I discovered makeup for the first time. Painting my face like I was trying to disappear. Blue and green eyeshadow climbed to my brows—a storm bruising my eyelids.Sparkly blush scattered across my cheeks
like glitter trying to hide exhaustion.And red—always red—slick and trembling on my lips, bleeding at the edges like a wound. I thought beauty lived in colour, in loudness, in proof that I was trying. But really, I was just learning how to wear a mask that smiled back. Overtime, I learned what worked for me. Learned which shades loved my skin, which ones made me look alive instead of pretending to be. Reddish golds on hooded lids, a sweep of black mascara. Foundation that wasn’t orange, blending into olive skin. Blush, reddish pink, gold-silver highlighter on my temples and nose. A red lipstick that became sharper and more deliberate. Mauve for the days I felt ghostly burgundy for the nights I didn’t want to be seen, pink for when I was faking joy well enough to fool myself. Now, every Christmas, I think of those early mornings before lectures—the mirror fogged with breath and fear, the smell of cheap foundation and ambition.The lights outside flickering like dying stars.
By Terry has an amazing range of vegan makeup that is perfect for winter. This beautful brown shade is the ultimate vegan lipstick.
Even now, in my ultimate vegan Christmas era, I wear makeup like armour. Lipsticks in particular, my go to saving grace. By Terry Rouge Opulent Collection, my current favourite. Reds, browns, nudes and pinks, in gold shiny bottles. Like a festive magpie I gravitate towards them. My beak protruding forward claiming the colours as my own. I pull up the gold embossed bottle, marvel at its luxury feel. Wondering how the shade Midnight Truffle will look like in the flesh. A colour that I wouldn’t normally wear. A dark brown with blue tones. The last time I wore brown lipstick, I was in my early twenties. Favouring barely pinks, chesnut hues and grey-ish browns. The lipstick was sumptous, gliding onto my lips like sllippery silk. Infused with 50 peptides, raspberry leaf extract and goji berry that felt like sin. The finish? Blurred creaminess, with 24 hour hydration. Smudge-proof, anti-aging formula that felt more nourishing than your average lippy. I conjured up festive outfits that Midnight Truffle would complement. A burgundy fluffy jumper over a burgundy satin skirt. A burgundy cordorouy baker boy cap and burgundy faux suede boots. Something more dressy? A rainbow sequin skirt and matching rainbow cami top, with red diamante court heels. A red sequin headband and sparkly lobster earrings. The brown lipstick offsetting the red.
Price £49
Barefaced Beauty Festive Haul
The temperature drops, morning yawning like a thin knife. Cold light slicing through the blinds. Illuminating the exhaustion beneath my eyes. I sit before the wardrobe mirror, three versions of me staring back. My hands trembling, I have the shakes. Almost dropping the brush, heavy with intention. Foundation spreads like thawing ash, smoothing over nights that never ended, hollows I’ve carried silently. Powder settles in quiet layers, a ritual of containment. Lipstick waits like a promise, red as courage, as if colour alone could summon warmth into these frozen December rooms. Eyeshadow blooms, bruised violets and smoky greys,
tracing the outlines of grief while hinting at something more— resilience hidden beneath the surface. But I couldn’t help but find makeup therapeutic. Painting like prayer. Each stroke soothes, each contour steadies my trembling hands. I’m allowed to exist, to feel, to breathe. By the end, I deck the mirror out with Christmas lights. Red and green twinkling, it shows me in a new light. More than survival, someone whose endured. Who learned to fold sorrow into beauty.
I usually go for more matte makeup but was pleasantly surprised by Barefaced Beauty’s range. The ultimate vegan xmas haul.
Outside carols jangle like impatient bells. But I won’t be rushed. A spread of natural vegan mineral makeup from Barefaced Beauty. I play pretend, Barbie who discovered makeup once more. In fluffy pink pyjamas, a leopard print headband pulling back my rogue curls. Skin moisturised and prepped, I reach out for my retractable Kabuki Brush. Relish the soft vegan bristles that tickle my skin. I smile, eking out two mineral foundations ( Sincere & Charmed). Mixing the two together for the perfect foundation shade. Someone who normally uses liquid foundation, afraid it wouldn’t give enough coverage. How wrong I was, my brush clinging onto the foundation powder with perfection. Blending into my skin, without shedding. I applied a medium coverage, and found it didn’t irritate my sensitive skin. A natural and polished golden glow with vegan, ethically sourced ingredients. I hummed, as The Polar Express played in the background. Getting into the festive spirit as I sipped on non-alcoholic mulled wine. But it was the mineral eyeshadows that I fell in love with. Three shades that embodied the spirit of the ultimate vegan Christmas without being red and green.
Highly pigmented, and non comedogenic, I was surprised at the payout. The colours intense. Twilight, a stunning cobalt blue that reminded me of Starry Night. Painting constellations on hooded lids, laced with silver. Amethyst, an aubergine purple that reminded me of wine. I paint this one as an eyeliner, wetting a brush, carving it into a cat eye shape. But the one I settle on? Gold, a shade between amber and yellow. A little going a long way, gentle on my skin. I blend until all visible lines are softened, with short firm strokes. It reminds me of Cleopatra, that rich shade like treasure. To finish? A lipstick shade lighter than I would normally go for. Barematt mineral lipstick in Sienna Sunset. Infused with Shea Butter, Cocoa Butter and Jojoba Seed Oil, for softer lips. A soft velvety finish without the dryness that some lipsticks would give. The lipstick fits like second skin. A reddish terracotta brown that feels festive. Complimenting the warm golden foundation, and gold eyeshadow like butter wouldn’t melt.
Prices
Retractable Kabuki Brush £15
Mineral Eyeshadow Gold £10
Mineral Eyeshadow Twilight £10
Mineral Eyeshadow Amethyst £10
Mineral Foundation Sincere £18
Mineral Foundation Charmed £18
Barematt Mineral Lipstick Sienna Sunset £12
Vegan Fashion
The Tote Project Bags
The world celebrates in a city burning with endless lights. Trees crowned in gold, windows spilling warmth. We laugh, and toast champagne flutes as we unwrap joy. But isn’t it cruel how somewhere else shadows writhe. Children brought and sold, women forced into silence. Men shackled by debt, humans trafficked, their futures actioned. Laughter stolen, chains glint beneath the snow. In basements, in warehouses, in forgotten rooms. I hear the carols that ring like lies, a reminder that the world looks away. They cover their eyes, and stick their fingers in their ears. Pretending they can’t see the violence around them. The torture, the inhumane treatment. But I don’t stay silent. I campaign for justice, and sign petitions. Share people’s stories with everyone I know. Light a candle for the victims whose names i’ll never know. Let the candle flicker in the dark until it runs out. A voice for the voiceless. For every stolen breath, for every hidden tear. The glamour of Christmas feels hollow if it blinds us to the cages. To the invisible hands that clutch unseeing, begging for help. But The Tote Project wants to help those who need it most. Beautiful vegan artisan tote bags, pencil cases, and makeup pouches against human trafficking. No empty words or promises they cannot keep.
The Tote Project is a beautiful brand with heart, raising money against human trafficking. The ultimate vegan gift that gives back.
In partnership with Impactful Missions, donating 10% of its net profits. Providing at risk children in Fond Doux with accessible education, nutritious meals and safe refuge from harm. Combating a time of severe instability and insecurity. Protecting vunerable children at risk of exploitation and human trafficking. A collaboration reflecting The Tote Project’s core commitment to trafficking prevention, complementing its long-standing efforts in survivor support, awareness building, and ethical manufacturing. To date, The Tote Project has invested over $100,000 in orders with fair trade partners, donated more than $50,000 to survivor-focused nonprofits, and been recognized by Congress for its impact in the fight against human trafficking.
I looked at the bags on my sofa. The first, a large Tote Bag, made in India. Using certified organic cotton, printed to order in the US. Eco-friendly inks, and a sustainable bag with a difference. Each bag with an interior water bottle pocket and mobile phone pocket too. Hers? The Free To Imagine Tote emblazoned with a rainbow peacock cascading with flowers.The Free To Dream pouch was special too. The lining and tassels made from upcycled sari materials. Each pouch ethically sewn by surviors of exploitation and women at risk of trafficking. Offering artisans fair wages, education and health care. My personal favourite? The laptop case in Meow Meadow, designed by artist Elonora Arosio. Super-imposed images of blue, orange and yellow cats dancing on a bed of flowers. Sturdy, and made with fairtrade cotton, it was the most gorgeous laptop bag. Replacing my old purple and white floral case, which I donated to charity. As far as the ultimate vegan Christmas went, I felt good about supporting such a powerful organization.
Prices
Laptop Case Meow Meadow £51
Free To Dream Pouch £22
Free To Imagine Tote £35
Heather Filby Novelty Earrings
Even at Christmas people reject colour. Gold and silver, sliding into neat predictable loops. They hang baubles, string tinsel, sip mulled wine, but fear the audacity of a shade that refuses to obey.I do not.Wrappung myself in riotous colour—a forest of whimsy in the frost-lit city. Tassel earrings in rainbow shades that swing like Northern Lights. Kitschy flowers bloom on my fingers, neon green dinosaurs parade across my neck. Blue cats blink on my wrist, abstract bracelets twist and tangle like enchanted garlands caught in winter wind. I used to be one of those people. Plumping for barely there silver studs, hiding behind tangled curls. No other jewellery, I tried to blend in. But now? I am brighter than tinsel, more audacious than the star on the tree. Each piece hums with magic, a spell against the ordinary. Stockings shuffle, snow falls,
carols spill like candle smoke. I am a carnival of colour, jingles and glimmer in every step. After all, life is too short to not stand out. Especially at Christmas. Boring jewellery? I hardly knew her. Gravitating towards the big, bold and beautiful.
As someone who is a maximalist all year round what could be a better ultimate vegan gift than Heather Filby’s earrings?
I see a pair of large sparkly lobster earrings, handmade and sparkly. Vibrant and red, my favourite colour, crafted from durable resin. Lightweight and comfortable to wear. Playful and unique. A bold statement for the ultimate vegan Christmas. I smiled, popping on my favourite red and yellow printed boiler suit, a blue puffa jacket on top. A blue beret that had seen better days. The earrings gloriously loud, contrasting against the blue cobalt boots propped up on the counter. My nails are blood-red, I tap them on the counter. Digging into a vegan chicken burger that’s dying for some cranberry sauce. The second day, I am a broccoli, making fun of vegetables. My favourite vegetable dressed to the nines, in their Xmas finest. Was I a food lover? Yes. Was I a garden enthusiast? Not really. But these earrings were something else. People’s jaws going slack, as I did my grocery shop. Staring at their vegetable haul, wondering if it could be made into earrings too. I guess I forgot the outfit. A green and pink teddy bear cardigan tucked into a pink pleated midi skirt. Green boots and a pink beret askew. Broccoli earrings gleaming like the cat that’d got the cream. The third? Something more traditionally festive. Holly leaf glitter earrings handmade in London. I couldn’t help but get in the holiday mood. A fun conversation starter, as I dressed in a tartan pinafore dress, and green turtleneck jumper. Long green boots, and green tartan hat.
Prices
Holly Leaf Christmas Glitter Earrings £23
Broccoli Green Glitter Resin Earrings £21
Large Red Lobster Earrings £27
Above Average Clothing
I love Christmas, but I don’t love the waste. The streets are alive with excess. Wrappings crawl like pale snakes across the pavement, ribbons coil around lampposts like suffocating vines, boxes topple and sigh in heaps, ornaments shiver with brittle breath. I see faux trees that shudder under the weight of their own glitter, needles cracking like bones beneath the flood of lights. The snow carries the stink of plastic, and the carols echo hollow,a siren call for the careless. I walk among it, hands empty, heart deliberate. Where others see joy, I see the pulse beneath: the waste writhing, the glitter crawling, the mountains of excess breathing, waiting. I wish people would realize how to be more sustainable. Breathing in restraint like armour. Realize that joy can be mindful without destruction. That even here in the glittered dead of Christmas, there is a pulse that survives. A green flicker of hope, beneath the rotting shine. Brands who were sustainable, who supported the animals, environment and humans. That’s when I found them, Above Average Clothing. Sustainable and ethical streetwear, made from GOTS certified organic cotton.
Looking for the ultimate vegan clothing brand? Above Average has lovely streetwear which you can dress up or down.
A brand with sustainability in mind even at Christmas, each product produced with renewable energy, and vegan dyes. Shipped in plastic-free packaging, with the ability to personalize hoodies, t-shirts and caps. It was a direct rebellion against fast fashion. Emphasizing the importance of buying from brands that were kind to the environment. A no-waste, no frills brand without ego. Family run, the range included three identities to choose from. DRMMR, EQSTRN and Core, with GTRST and GRDNR, launching soon. I gravitated towards the Core collection, the AVRG Unisex Tee in the shade lilac dancing into my fingers. A gold triple ascent back contrasting against the purple. A round logo fit and a modern style that went with everything. I paired it with my purple pleated tennis skirt, a blouse underneath. Purple tights, and lilac Mary Janes. A fluffy purple long coat, as the weather got cooler. On the other hand? My partner, a loungewear enthusiast who saw comfort as key. Who was more at home in trackies and jumpers, than a suit and tie. The Men’s Organic Cotton Full Zip Hoodie (EQSTRN) caught his eye. Made from 100% organic cotton, a sustainable hoodie offering premium comfort and durability. A soft brushed fleece lining, relaxed fit and adjustable hood, combining practicality with purpose. He wore it constantly, burrowed into its warmth, as the days got colder. The ultimate vegan Christmas without judgement.
Prices
AVRG™ Unisex Tee Lilac £27
Men’s Organic Cotton Full Zip Hoodie Surf £57
Vegan Home & Living
Scented Aromas Bath Haul
I can’t remember the last time I felt relaxed. Waking up to another morning wrapped in tinfoil light. The alarm clock screaming its jaunty tune. But i’ve been awake hours, imagining stars on the ceiling. Sleep a stranger who left no forwarding address. I scroll instead, blue light licking my skin like artificial dawn. The world outside is grey and dreary, I answer it with silence. I dress in red and gold, festive disguises for decay. Where baubles look haunted, their glass eyes reflecting a face I barely recognize. I count the hours like rosary beads, each one a small confession. I’m tired. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being me. When I fell in love with the ultimate vegan Christmas, I saw the world through rose tinted glasses. Back when snow meant magic and not another layer of cold. Now even the carols feel cruel, singing of peace to those who’ve forgotten how. Yet somewhere beneath the static and tinsel, a spark still stirs—quiet as breath, fragile as frost—reminding me that even exhaustion can glitter, if you hold it to the light. It’s hard when the air tightens around my chest. When I forget how to live, a rope squeezing my ribs. But i’m trying to do better. To take care of myself. To listen to the warning signs that engulf my body hungrily.
Scented Aromas is a mother and daughter brand with whimsical fragranced products. The ultimate vegan guilty pleasure.
I feel it now. Sinking into the keys of the laptop, clutching at the edges of day, that bleed into murky night. Run a bath, stare at myself in the mirror. Try and erase those haunted eyes that stare back at me. Tell myself that I am OK, that this feeling is just temporary. I pop on my Scented Aromas pink leopard print headband. The fluffy material soothing my sensory overload. A big polka dot bow flopping over my head. A soft and comfortable fit for extended wear. Hair back, I reach into the cupboard, and find something that brings me joy. The Fairytale Golden Carriage Bath Bomb, laced with pink. I imagine it to smell like roses and jasmine, but it is better. Indulging in the tropical scent of Pineapple and Coconut, letting the festive beach vibes take over. I drop it in the scalding water, almost sorry to see it go. The pink melting into heat, as I sink into its comforting folds. My mind keeps spinning, but I try and keep The Grinch at bay. Lathering Christmas Cookies bath soap across my red-mottled skin. It smells like baked cookies, the kind my friend would make before she passed. Chocolate chip, soft hazelnut centres. I can’t help but smile, the 4-in1 formula, bringing festive warmth to my routine. I let the water cleanse the soap, and closed my eyes. Wishing I could capture this moment forever.
Prices
The Fairytale Carriage Bath Bomb £3.95
Hot Pink Leopard Print Headband £3.99
Christmas Cookies Whipped Soap £8.99
William Morris X Seep Eco Sponge Cloths & Tea Towel
There’s something therapeutic about cleaning at Christmas. Erasing the anxieties that cloud my mind. Wringing sadness in soap and water. Shooing away demons with a mop that had seen better days. I hear the neighbours laughing again, dragging pine needles through their doors. I turn up the tap until it drowns them out—let the water scald, let the steam blur the edges of everything that gets me down. I clean like I’m trying to remember who I am. The smell of bleach cuts through the air, bright and merciless. Each wipe, each rinse, a way of silencing the static in my head. I can’t face the plastic cheer, so I polish the silence instead. Finding rhythm in repetition, discover stripped-down peace. The sponge squeaks, plunged into liquid green soap. The floor gleams, water sliding across wooden floorboards. A door closed on inquisitive cats, scrubbing toliets in bleach. Somewhere a carol starts again,sweet and unbearable. I pause, hands raw, watching the bubbles collapse, the last of the foam circling the drain.
It gets dark so early now, but i’m still cleaning. Watching the murky gray cloud fade into cobalt night. But I carry on, in my deep clean era. Rushing to get the house sparkling for my Aunty, Cousin and his girlfriend. It feels like time is running on, overwhelmed by how much I need to do. I put Christmas rap on and hum ‘here comes Santa Claus’, trying to get into the festive spirit. A race against time, bobbing my head to the music. I pick up my new William Morris sponge cloths, and tea towel, in collaboration with Seep. Plastic free, compostable and sustainably sourced. Made from wood pulp cellulose and repurposed cotton, I feel good when I use it. But it’s the design that keeps me going: featuring William Morris’s iconic “Golden Lily” and “Arcadia” designs, inspired by home. To him, the natural world, concerns about the impact of industrial manufacturing on the environment. But these cloths were whimiscal, the intricate designs pasting a smile on my face. Each cloth absorbing 15 times its own weight. Wiping up sticky mulled wine, and congealed gravy. Machine washable, in partnership with reforestation charity ‘On A Mission’. This ultimate vegan Christmas, she’d be more sustainable from home, to fashion, to food.
Vacation Vibes Amalfi Vibrator
It’s Christmas again, the season of glittered restraint. Where we gift-wrap everything except the truth. Afraid that if we are too loud, too bolshy, that they’ll call us names again. I should know, people look at me sideways when I mention sex. Cover their eyes in shame when I talk about periods. Shuffle uncomfortably when I talk about female pleasure. Is it really such a taboo that you stand there hanging lights on the streets, but still flinch at words like Vulva? Hide pads in sleeves, embarrassed at what people will say. Shove your tears down your throat, as though mental health is a swear? I’m tired of purity dressed as kindness. I want stockings that ladder, revelling in the imperfections. I want to complain loudly about my period cramps and have people to join in. To find vibrators under the tree wrapped without shame. To toast to my naked skin, to be comfortable in its flaws. To lube, to therapy, to saying yes to pleasure. To saying ‘Hell Yeah’ to feminine freedom. Why can’t we be happy in the mess of being alive? Lovers laid strewn on a crumpled bed, sinking into sagging skin. Tracing stretch marks, and caressing cellulite. Celebrating the body as it is. Bleeding, breaking, wanting, healing. Having conversations that dosen’t end in blushes. Reminding the world, that what we want matters too.
Something fun in mind? Amalfi is a vegan sex toy brand that gives the ultimate vegan pleasure.
This Christmas, I feel no shame. A blue box that celebrates female pleasure. I reach inside, red nails tapping impatiently, like Christmas had come early. Unravelling a stunning baby blue vibrator, that felt like sunshine. Vacation Vibes ‘The Amalfi’ a classic bullet vibrator, with an edge. A softly rippled texture for enhances sensation. I reminded myself that I am a sexual being worthy of praise. I press the vibrator to me, humming through the smell of pine and cold wax from half-burnt candles. My body shuddering under its expert touch. Forgetting the cardboard tower of gifts that lean. In the corner curling like exhausted fingers. Crimson tissue papper fluttering in drafts. I gasp between beats, hands clutching mattress, radiator, table edge—anything that will anchor me to the storm that is rising and rising again.I let it take me, let it carve itself into muscle and bone, every nerve awake, every thought untangled. I run a bath, not wanting the fun to end, not fully submerged. Water-resistant and latex free, an hour of fun, that keeps getting better. Pleasure blooming in spaces noone asks about. Behind discarded ribbons, under the hum of a timer, I let it rise. Watch it takeover. For the ultimate vegan Christmas empowered in my own skin.
Price £44.95
Vegan Entertainment
Know Thyself Board Game
Nearly two months ago, the lights outside stabbed through my eyelids. Tottenham Court Road bleeding blue and red into my skull. I can still feel the street beneath my palms, the cold, the shock, the hands, my phone gone, my control gone, the city hums, relentless, like it remembers what I cannot forget. I screamed in pain, what felt like my life ripped away from me. Telling my partner I was safe and coming home. But the night ended differently. Dark eyes stealing all those memories away. My naivety washed away in the pain of trauma. I still remember the hands on me. The sharp snatch, the hands on my skin. I stumbled, the push wobbling my bad kneee. Running after them injured, the laughter ringing in my ears. But therapy ends, therapy ends. The llists stretch across the floor,across my chest, laundry, shopping, cleaning, cooking, for Aunt, for cousin, for the world that expects me whole and I am not.I am panic. I am exhaustion. I can’t do the things I once loved. I’m struggling to work. Because the memory sits on top of me like wet snow, like lead. I felt like I should have healed right now, but that’s not the way that trauma works.
I cried. I laughed. I reminised. Know Thyself was the ultimate vegan game to start meaningful conversations.
I cancel everything that scares me before the fear swallows me whole, but the lists don’t shrink. The flat presses against me, I breathe, I try to breathe. The panic curls around my ribs, twisting hours into minutes,
minutes into a lifetime of waiting, waiting for the world to stop judging, for it to stop remembering, for me to stop breaking. And I am stuck. I’ve run out of lifelines. I feel hopelessly alone. The Christmas happiness rings false. I am the never-ending lists. I am the anxiety demons feeding on my brain. The street that mutilated me. The panic that cannot move. But I am trying to heal. To move on. Not to erase the robbery and assault that happened. I can’t un-do the past. But to accept, and try again. To not let the violence win. I clutch a glass of non-alcholic sparkling white, swill the green-yellow glass. Sit at the table with my partner and toast each other to sharing our pasts. Know Thyself, a psychological conversation game build around archetypes. Sparking deep reflection, personal insight and real connection between me and my partner.
We take a pledge to be honest, and respect each other. To not get upset if we have differing opinions. To listen to each other in silence, sparkling as the other talks. He starts, grabbing a Depth Card, his face dropping. The card asking ‘of all the people in your life whose death would you find most disturbing and why’. He answers ‘ well obviously you, because I hate the thought of you not being here, I don’t know what I would do without you. It would be too quiet without you here and you are young and prosperous. I tear up, a reminder that there are people who would be sad to see me go. He picks up an archetype card, The Leader. Someone who possesses the vision for the future and the ability to inspire others. Who leads with confidence and authority.
For myself, I put a 2, for him a 4. I start first, and tell him why he’s a 4. I explain how he is someone who is always teaching others. Like how for myself, he isn’t patronizing, helping me understand, even though I have a learning disability. But he dosen’t make me feel stupid for it. And how he dampens himself for others, so he can make them feel good. Always putting others first. He tells me that he puts me as a 4, and I am surprised. He says that although I am not in a leadership role right now, that I am good at giving guidance. That people would thrive under my leadership because I would be like his old boss. Someone who dosen’t look at stats and numbers. Who sees people as people. He said the only reason he didn’t put me as a 5 is because I am not in that role at the moment. I show my 2, and say how nice it is that he gave me a 4. I said it is self-confidence thing. I have been in leadership roles but I am someone who is more comfortable in the shadows. I worry because of my neurodivergence that I won’t get things right. That I will fail, and people will put me down. I base it on experience. The job where I was in a managerial position, and treated poorly by the boss. The job after where I was overwhelmed and given too much, and couldn’t give them what they asked for. As we played, I felt a revelation. Sure, it seemed heavy for the ultimate vegan Christmas, but it was enlightening. Teaching things we didn’t know about ourselves, and others.
Price £37.00
We Cook Plants Cookbook
They sit stiffly, eyes wide at my top four cuisines. Ethopian, Indian, Carribean and Middle Eastern, I tell them proudly, and they frown. I don’t understand how they can’t understand the joy. Berbere stew simmering dark as blood. Lentils swollen with love, injera tearing in my fingers, spongy and sour. The scent of spices crawling through the room like smoke. Christmas, they think, should taste like boiled vegetables, dry turkey, muted sugar, polite roast potatoes. But this table hums with colour. It refuses predictability like breath that can’t be silenced. Jerk tofu hisses, spiced, caramelized,plantains curl molten at the edges,sugar and heat sticky in the air.Hummus slick with olive oil, tahini rich and nutty, flatbreads pliant beneath my hands. Sumac dusted like rouge, every bite a provocation. It’s true, I like a traditional Christmas too. But I celebrate multiple days. A special one where we cook just me and my partner. Last year, conjuring an Indian feast. Chickpeas simmered in decaf tea, laced with garam masala and cumin. Bombay potatoes dancing in garlic and chilli. Vegan keema naan, and creamy raita. A jackfruit biryani, sprinkled with saffron.
We Cook Plants is a beautiful exploration of culture, politics, climate change and food around the world. The ultimate vegan cookbook with a twist.
This Christmas, I’ll eat like desire itself. My table humming in tongues they’ll never understand. Rifling through cookbooks, a million ideas thrown my way. I buy one that stands out to me. We Cook Plants, combining education on community food, cultural recipes, climate change, and food poverty. Recipes that are so much more. Craving vegan West African food. I’ve never tried to make it myself, relishing the challenge. Nishma’s Bharazi, Sukuma, Wiki and Ugali standing out to me. A fusion dish influenced by the Gujarati diaspora, who introduced ginger, cumin and jeera into local dishes. Culinary fusion between the Burmese, Portuguese, Indian, Carribean and East African cuisine. I start with the Bharazi, pigeon peas dancing in red chillis. Ginger caressing apple and shallots. Pour in the coconut milk, watch it bubble. Sukuma Wiki, I love my collard greens.Cherry tomatoes, careful they don’t burst, a hint of sea salt, a splash of tumeric. But the Ugali is special, it reminds me of polenta like you would have in Madeira. This one spicier, ginger and chilli flakes. I break off some Ugali and dip it into the Bharazi. Scoop up Sukama Wiki while its still hot. Sure, not a traditonal choice for Christmas. But for me, it is the ultimate Vegan Christmas dish. Pairing it with Sandra’s Sweet Potato Pudding, a Carribean dessert. Shredded coconut and sultanas, orange sweet potatoes, paired with vegan yoghurt. To drink? Nena’s Zobo, dried hibiscuis drenched in pineapple and orange. A cinnamon stick bobbing in date syrup.
What Ultimate Vegan Christmas Gift Are You Choosing?
*Disclaimer
Please note I was gifted these products in exchange for a review but all thoughts are my own and are not affected by gifting. I would love to know what caught your eye from the ultimate vegan christmas gift guide.
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