I HAVE a love, no make that a passion for shopping.

I am Superwoman when it comes to spending money. No amount is too small, no price too high (trainee journalist wage allowing of course).

I have in fact been known to traverse the high street as many as five, yes you read that correctly, five times, in one week and I am a fashion magazine junkie. Who needs narcotics when you can have Vogue?

Now hang on I know you're thinking. This isn't festive of theme, why is she telling me this?

Well there is actually a link albeit a contradictory one. I adore shopping, as so adamantly proclaimed above, but I HATE Christmas shopping. They are two very separate entities indeed and if you can not imagine that there is a difference you will do soon.

So why the jingling bells of Santa's sleigh do I hate Christmas shopping so?

I am a thoughtful and methodical shopper, a shopping machine you might say, yet I always break out in a cold sweat at the thought of facing the high street in the advent period and I always always always leave it all until the last minute.

You aren't likely to see me toasting chestnuts by the fire on Christmas Eve with a glass of eggnog (whatever that is) while smug family members tell me they finished their gift buying last January.

Come December 24 I am the demented girl running round the shops in a blind panic. I put it off because it is invariably blooming freezing outside and by contrast like a devil's sauna inside those dreaded (only during Christmas mind) department stores, with their vapid piped in carols.

At Christmas (and throughout the January sales) they become war zones with people seriously ready to kill for that last (horrendous) size 28 lime green and purple blouse. Plus you dash about the precinct and your feet get wet and your are hands cold blah blah etc etc...

Forget the birth of Christ. Festive shopping is the death of me.

But hey don't get me wrong I do love some aspects of Christmas even though you think by now I'm the worst Scrooge ever.

No "bah humbug!" for me. I genuinely love decorating the tree and that tradition of leaving a glass of sherry out for fat St Nick. I adore that cheesy 1980s Santa film where Dudley Moore plays an elf and just don't let me go near the mince pies for too long!

Back to my downfall - the shopping. I for one try to convince myself that my dad would love a set of golf balls when in fact he would not. In fact he does not know a birdie from a bogey. There I am humming and hawing over various trinkets when oh no the shops announce they're about to close...

I have to say though that nothing beats finding the perfect gift, for example that gorgeous silk scarf for mum, and guess what? I can borrow it too hurrah!

And then of course there is the receiving...So hey Christmas shopping rules ok? I'm a girl, I call upon my right to be contrary! Happy Clothesmas - oops Christmas - everyone!