Linda Kennedy: Shopping at Ibrox sends me to an alien world of red, white and blue

Published on Wednesday 17 December 2008 18:43

LIKE Santa, I have entered the lives of others. He goes down the chimney. I just went into the Rangers megastore.

Let me explain. I have an uncle on whom subjecting yet more garden centre vouchers seemed a shame this Christmas. He is a Rangers fan so, out of the blue, rather appropriately, I thought of giving him football trinkets. Gift-buying often requires visits to other people's worlds. The key is to regard such retail excursions as an adventure and accept that mistakes will happen. For example, there was that time I explored buying a casino voucher for my brother. "The 'Dinner and Poker' experience entitles the holder to food and 5,000 chips," said the lady. "He'll never eat that many," I protested.

I set off for the Ibrox megastore, got lost on the way but everyone I asked in Govan knew where it was. That was lucky. In the car park, most vehicles were parked outside the lines. Fans could hardly criticise players, I felt, when they too were inaccurate with the right foot, albeit on the accelerator, not the ball.

The shop didn't feel festive. "Away in a Ranger" was not playing. Nor was "Rudolph the Red-nosed Ranger". I started to browse, quickly aware I was out of my league. I had expected strips, of course, but this many? It was like Primark, in a season when blue was the new black. There was also ladieswear. Would any female thrill to receive such gifts? "Why, Rangers jim-jams? Thank you darling." Among the football scarves, would there even be Rangers pashminas?

I found an assistant to quiz about uncle-suitable stocking-fillers.

"Do you have Rangers notebooks?"

Her surprise was surprising. Surely some fans could write?

"No," she said. "But we've got fun packs with pens and rulers."

I toyed with the delicious rightness of buying shin guards to put in his Christmas stocking. There were also Rangers USB sticks and Rangers mousemats. I wondered if some offices now had signs reading, "No football colours". But I, a non-footballing female, was now feeling more out of place than a Celtic striker buying half-price turquoise Rangers slippers – which, incidentally, were in stock. So I grabbed some 'Gers Jelly Babies and a Rangers air freshener for my uncle, though not entirely happy with these stocking-fillers. Where were the Rangers soft toy parrots which, when squeezed after a defeat, would say in a Glasgow accent: "I'm sick, so you don't have to be"? Or perhaps felt Rangers moons: "For fans to be over"? Or even cuddly blind refs? I left. Outside, some fans spat on the ground. Merry Christmas to you too, I thought. Rangers tissues. They should sell those.

• GOOGLE should buy Woolworths, as a corporate challenge. Content-wise, Woolies had everything. The problem was no-one could find it. It would be Google's first offline challenge: to create an actual search engine. Once they'd perfected it at Woolies, we could all buy one of these brand new Google hunting machines, thereby ending fruitless forays for things in the cupboard under the stairs.

Failing that, get Tracey Emin to make an artwork game. Place her unmade bed, with its clobber and clutter, alongside an aisle at Woolies. Spot the difference. Proceeds to the 'Save Woolies' campaign.

Frosty's obesity is snow joke

WHAT is the body mass index of a modern snowman? I only ask as I visited Carnaby Street when in London this week, where the Christmas decorations showed a sense of humour. This year, between the buildings, they've dangled chubby snowmen, whose bottoms droop over shoppers. Imagine snowmen from Florida, if that were possible, and that's about their size. It seems our Johnny Snow-mates are not immune to the epidemic of obesity and, beneath a snowman's love handles, I began to worry. Have snowmen's dimensions, like dress sizes, crept upwards? Does this reflect our own increase in girth, as we create snowmen in our image? When conditions permit, I urge you to check the figure of the snowman you instinctively build. How many times does the scarf go round his neck? Fewer than last year? If so, it's time for us all to cut back on those snowballs.