These are the over thirties who are trying to forget their matt black Eighties phase by going mad on natural fibres

These are the over thirties who are trying to forget their matt black Eighties phase by going mad on natural fibres. They have Egyptian cotton duvet covers and barely there Christmas decorations. The General Trading Company, in London’s Sloane Street, is the spot for twig trees (which last for ever but will be too unfashionable to reuse), raffia pears and apples that are doing terribly well and a bizarre twig ”coil” that hangs from the ceiling. Heal’s has real cactus decorations and Good Housekeeping recommends gilding your own pears.Babes on Wood are also big on smells. They are likely to get their fresh foliage from Paula Pryke (florist to Donna Karan and Katharine Hamnett) Paula says: “We always use fruits and nuts and cinnamon and cloves in our Christmas garlands which perfumes the house beautifully. But as a different thing this year we have been using dried quince slices.” The conical fruit and nut cones are very popular.

Pryke describes her clients as the kind of people who like eucalyptus and Cupressus garlands to wrap around the banisters in their chalets. Minimalists with a wood allergy might just stretch to the flamboyance of white lights and angel hair, nothing else and for heaven’s sake no colour, it might clash with their black wardrobe.To be really different, of course, you need to outspend the competition. Rich people can spend unlimited amounts on candles and lights. Lucy Ellworthy, decoration and shopping editor of House and Garden recommends Anne Severine Liotard sculptured candles that start from pounds 188. “They are Brancusiesque” says Stuart Paterson, marketing manager of the General Trading Company. ”They are like big cheeses or pyramids that zigzag and are kind of modular.” The best thing is that no one has a clue what you’re talking about.At Liberty’s, Diana Glaston, aged 40, has just spent pounds 45 on baubles.

”Gosh,” she says handing over her Gold American Express card. Her gold leaf and bronze baubles come with cleaning instructions – natch dry clean only Selfridges, too, sees customers who want decadence. Alex Smith, one of the Christmas Hall managers, explains: “We have gone for an Imperial Russian theme this year. A lot of our customers are in their mid- to late- thirties want to do something different and better for their children than they had in their childhood.” This category of big spenders can be defined as the Traumatic Childhood Recovery Group. For the world- weary childless contemporary couple, (mostly from Islington) there is the Conran Shop. For them, red and gold just doesn’t make enough of a statement. They force-read Irvine Welsh and this year’s Christmas decorations are tin vegetables which they hang from a foil tree.

Pumpkins are particular favourite being orange (classic urban shade). Contemporary couple are allowed to buy silk coloured balls in turquoise and lime from the Designer’s Guild as they are the only tree decoration recommended by House and Garden’s Lucy Ellworthy who admits to being “sick to death of the same old Christmas decorations”.Even wearier are the Angry Solstice celebrants who despise the whole charade. “I laugh at anybody who spends money on decorations” says Jonathan Tucker-Ball, a sculptor living in west Hampstead. “I’m vehemently against filling the house with bits of the forest. I would recommend going out into nature instead and enjoying the fairies. They are at their most abundant at the time of the winter solstice.” Don’t confuse the solstice dropouts with the capitalist dropouts who shun wasteful, unecological third world exploitation for their own beautiful beads and wood masks which they were conned into believing were traditional Tanzanian Christmas decorations on a recent visit. These people, who normally inhabit Brixton, dress in all the colours of the rainbow anyway and always have bells jingling from the doorways so Christmas hardly makes a difference.Possibly the most irritating people are the do-it-yerselfers.

These are the types who want to bake their own bread, think writing a poem instead of sending a card is a good idea and who turn their noses up at shop bought pasta sauces yet still buy Joanna Trollope novels and dream of owning an Aga The D-I-Yers can be subdivided into the dos and the don’ts. The don’ts buy spray paint, pick their holly leaves, save their tin foil and cotton wool but never quite get round to making the stuff. Consequently, the week before Christmas they end up rifling through the remnants bin in W H Smith. Their decorations consist of some mangy tinsel draped round a lightshade. Also failing to make their cards they are forced, last minute, to buy the ones with corrugated edges, Victorian snow scenes in purple and Peace in huge gold letters The do’s get everything done weeks ahead of time. Their children, of course, would much rather watch Baywatch and get their decorations from Habitat, but no, the DIY doers insist on collecting fir cones to spray gold (the first step to hard drugs incidentally).