Whisper it, but the best Christmas party was on Twitter

Social media is blamed for all sorts of things but at Christmas it really comes into its own, writes Rupert Hawksley

Twitter: where the real fun is (Getty)

Not to bleat or anything but I was working on Christmas Day. I know, terribly unfair (triple pay and a case of decent claret from the editor is the least I deserve). But there was a silver lining: social media.

It’s fashionable to sign off Twitter at this time of year, usually with a self-important message along the lines of, “Won’t be on here for a few days, time to focus on the things that really matter. See you next year.” As if the rest of us care.

Well, I didn’t have that luxury (did I mention I was working on Christmas Day?) and what I discovered is that Twitter is at its very best over Christmas. The part-timers have disappeared and the conversation is all the better for it. As political writer Sam Freedman put it: “Love Christmas Day on Twitter. All the ‘I only use it for work’ lightweights gone and just the hardcore three-pack-a-day addicts left.”

In place of all the usual point-scoring and bickering, there were some very respectable jokes about not messaging your ex at 11am after the fourth glass of prosecco, being given the Lynx Africa gift set (an annual favourite) and, er, being on Twitter at Christmas. Labour MP Louise Haigh cracked me up when she tweeted: “My mum just waited until the dog had walked out the room to tell me what she’d bought him for Christmas.”

There were also some wonderful snapshots into other people’s frankly disastrous Christmases. This one, posted on 23 December, was especially good: “Things I’ve been told off by my parents for since coming home for Christmas (so far): turning the taps off too quickly; flushing the toilet too hard; asking if the heating can be turned up; encouraging the cat; eating the ‘Christmas day cheese’.” I also enjoyed this: “My uncle walked into Christmas, filled a plate, ate in a separate room, and left. He was here four minutes.” This was good, too: “Can already hear my Nan slagging me off downstairs for how pissed I was last night, on one before she’s even had her breakfast. It’s gonna be a long day.”

Then there was this, which made me and plenty of others think. “The worst thing about growing up and Christmas is how sitting quietly reading your new book and ignoring everyone goes from ‘well-behaved, quiet child’ to ‘rude and antisocial’.” Very fair point.

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The writer Rhodri Marsden has made a bit of tradition out of all this silliness, asking people to share pictures of the ridiculous places they have been asked to sleep at Christmas, usually when visiting family. Camp beds in garages, tiny bunk beds for middle-aged men, 1930s bed linen – it’s all there, and very relatable.

More seriously, the comedian Sarah Millican has, for a number of years, invited people feeling lonely at Christmas to form a bit of an online community to help each other get through the day. “Well done to everyone who finds Christmas Day tricky. You did it! You got through it! Thanks to everyone who interacted on the #JoinIn hashtag. You’re all absolute smashers. Much love,” she concluded last night.

Social media is blamed for all sorts of things these days – no doubt with good reason – but at Christmas it really comes into its own. And to think I’d never have known if I wasn’t working.

Yours,

Rupert Hawksley

Voices senior commissioning editor