Gaby Soutar: The day that makes grown men cry

I'm not going to tell you that getting this job done is going to be easy, because it's horrible out there. In fact, it's hellish on the high street.

There's a reason why some have dubbed 20 December Manic Man-day. It's because some members of your gender have been cruising along on autopilot for the last month or so, ignoring the tinsel, blocking out the Bing Crosby and the general merriment - and now they've got to step on the accelerator, nay pump that gas.

They do, mind you, have the convenient excuse of the worst snowfall we've seen in 40 years and sub-zero temperatures, which have turned an easy jaunt to the local shops into a monumental task.

Unfortunately, as it's now the last Saturday before Christmas, we can almost guarantee that any city-centre Marks & Spencer will be like a scene from a George A Romero film. There will be hordes of pale-faced men stumbling in a similar direction, with pleading looks on their faces. A few of them may be clutching their spoils - ie, the last few pairs of Totes Toasties - while occasionally bringing them up to eye-level to stare searchingly at the label.

Don't even bother attempting to venture down to the M&S foodhall - as any horror movie fan knows, you don't go into the basement. As for Boots, it would probably also make life easier if they had a sign outside that said Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.

Thorntons? Well, everyone knows that a Continental Selection is the easy way out. And, although Waterstones may seem like a civilised haven of tranquillity, you can't hide among the paperbacks forever.

Also, be careful with your cash. Although the average British man spends 141 on his partner at Christmas, the desire to fix their predicament may mean that they end up splurging more than they can afford.

"We see a lot of them coming in at the last minute," says Katherine Gill, owner of Rosie Brown Jewellery, which is open until Christmas Eve, drawing men like magpies to the sparkly silver trinkets in their Bruntsfield, Edinburgh, window. "They're often beyond the point of caring about money any more."

Also, personal shoppers in Edinburgh's branch of Harvey Nichols are well trained to mop up males who stumble into the shop with sweaty credit cards in hand.Often, these desperate customers will have "a tear in their eye", reveals press and marketing assistant Kevin Stewart.

If you're one of these blokes, you might ask yourself; how did I get here? Well, let's cast our minds back.

Perhaps you first became aware of the impending festive season when John Lewis put up its Christmas decorations back in September (or something) and you moaned about crass commercialisation and premature baubles.

Then, much later on, there was a not-so-subtle hint from your wife, which you meant to write down, but you were too busy laughing at Rob Brydon's Al Capone impression on The Trip.

Or, maybe this predicament isn't entirely your fault and you genuinely didn't have the time. For example, a friend of mine works 12-hour days in Royal Mail's sorting office on the run-up to D-Day, and has to buy his family's presents in Waverley Station, on his way home on Christmas Eve. The family rather look forward to their one-way tickets, copies of Marie Claire and bags of Haribo.

Of course, many consumers have been set back by the Big Freeze. Unfortunately, the same event means that the stock in the shops, at this point in proceedings, might be less topped-up and more tat-like than usual. Sorry, it was awfully cruel to admit that, while your adrenalin levels are rocketing. After all, a recent independent survey, commissioned by Lands' End, found that 48 per cent of men find Christmas shopping more stressful than being dumped by their girlfriend or getting divorced.

Which is ironic, really, as the latter might just happen if your partner is landed with a pair of Totes Toasties.

However, after a few paragraphs of gender stereotyping, I have to admit that my boyfriend has, as always, been totally organised. He did all his Christmas shopping months ago, and I'm pretty sure has got me what I asked for.

I can't share the secret to his skills, however, as they're down to sheer self-preservation. He knows that, should he be forced to venture out into the fray at this point in proceedings, it would destroy him. The evidence is clear - if we're ever shopping in Glasgow's branch of Primark on a non-festive Saturday afternoon, I'll often hear him nervously humming The Great Escape theme tune under his breath ("for strength", he'll explain). Occasionally, he'll suddenly stand stock-still, as if his nervous system can't cope with all the input: the people, the escalators, bags, tills, the questions.

At this point, I have to take him by the hand and lead him to safety - aka, the nearest cafe for a cup of hot sweet tea and a sit-down.

"My first instinct when I enter a busy shop is to turn and run, as my 'fight or flight' mechanism kicks in," he explains. "Shopping at the best of times is a task, at Christmas it takes on Herculean proportions.

"The key is to be organised, have a list of things you want and some Plan B back-ups in case the things you want are sold out."

You could say it's all very well for Mr Smug, who's done all his shopping, to tell us this on Manic Man-day.

If you still haven't done your shopping, I can't offer you any advice. All I'll say is good luck. You're going to need it out there.