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hat in the name of hot cross buns is going on here?

Ah, so you’ve spotted our Easter wreath! Just like its Christmas cousin, only far more fabulous now that there is actual sunshine and flowers to be had.

It looks like spring threw up on your front door.

That’s the point. The kitschier, the better. Let’s go madder than the proverbial March Hare and festoon every surface with pastels.

Has the lack of social contact finally robbed you of all taste?

We are Persephone, emerging from the underworld of winter lockdown to festoon the land with symbols of fecundity! Easter is truly the new Christmas. Two households may meet outdoors, so everyone’s primping their porch to receive visitors en plein air.

It’s not very traditional though, is it?

Actually, wreaths have a surprisingly versatile history. The Ancient Greeks and Romans used to weave together corn to celebrate the harvest. English May Day celebrations in the Middle Ages culminated in strapping young men clambering up a Maypole to retrieve a ceremonial wreath in a display of virility, until fun sponge Protestants did away with Pagan trappings. The association with Advent and Christmas came after — the spring wreath is the original.

Maybe we could spring for Easter tat.

Welcome aboard! But hurry — goodies are flying off the shelves faster than toilet roll this time last year. At time of press you could still get hold of this pastoral beauty from John Lewis, complete with raffia rabbit effigy.

I’ve cracked — pass the ribbons.

Next year it’s back to a family-sized bag of Mini Eggs, promise.

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