Valentine's Day

The Worst Day of the Year?

YES

Jenni Davis is fed up with Valentine's Day commercialism

Valentine’s couples are sick. You know – the ones who ignore each other all year and then pansy around for the day declaring their love by doing an Interflora to the workplace, kissing in the rain (pointless) and hand-holding, before eye-fucking over a heart-shaped al funghi. Then they go home to petrol-station petals strewn over a satin bed with novelty teddies waiting on the pillow – ready to (hopefully) catch fire as soon as they light a post-coital ciggie.

For years I got a card signed with ‘Guess Who?’ I’ll tell you who – my gran. I know this because, unlike my friends’ cards, mine had no sexual inferences such as, ‘Roses are red and I want to knob you’. When I finally did get a boyfriend (who stuck around for Feb) we agreed that it was all too commercialised and made a pact not to spend a penny on it. Instead, I hand-made a card with our initials entwined in a heart shape. I gave him the card, we never had sex again and then he dumped me.

Valentine’s Day cards neatly sum up my lovelife. Cards range from the minimalist overpriced types, through to fluffy, glitter-drenched six-footers. A selection is made impulsively, then lustful words are poured onto it. Yet once the dinner and bit of sex are over, the card gets screwed up and chucked away. It’s as though your obligation to treat me like a lady has been fulfilled for 24 hours and you can go back to being a lazy sod for the other 364 days. Well, I’d rather take a stand against faux smoochiness. Join me – we can burn Clinton Cards to the ground and hold hands as a million Valentine’s cards go up in smoke. Now that’s my idea of romance…

NO

Oliver Eden green promises to make the most of the Day

Look: I’m a man. I eat meat, clip children around the ear and have hair growing from my nipples. What on earth could I possibly have to say in favour of Valentine’s Day? It’s for old folk and people who reek of desperation, right? Wrong.

Valentine’s Day is for everyone and, in short, is possibly the most wonderful day of the year (except for St Patrick’s Day, when drinking a steaming barrel of stout and tearing down Oxford Street wearing nothing but a large comical hat becomes socially acceptable).

Does it make me a little feminine to love Valentine’s Day as much as I do? No. It makes me lazy. Valentine’s Day is the only day of the year you can throw the lamest, most shameful excuse for a gift or meal at your partner and get pleasure in return. You can take her to Slippery Giuseppe’s red-and-white-checked hellhole for a microwaved lasagne – an offering that would normally be greeted with glum hatred and your sexual p45. Yet no matter how sickly and lumpen the Béchamel sauce, she’ll be begging for a boffing because it’s now romantic, all thanks to Signor Valentine. True, you may have to swallow your pride when buying that monstrous teddy bear replete with embossed heart, but it’s a blow you take if you want a nice happy afterglow to see you through till spring.

But what of people without partners? Well, they should love Valentine’s too. They get to bask in their smug cynicism and unite in their crushing loneliness for a ‘We Don’t Care About Valentine’s So We’re Throwing A Party’ party and cop off with the closest thing that’s sweaty and gin-soaked. Valentine’s Day: everyone’s a winner.

FINAL RESULTS

YES: 55% NO: 45%