Kirsty Bosley: Festive 'Gift Face'? Breaking bread is all that really matters

Few things tend to shock me these days, and I think the same can be said for a lot of us.

But this week I saw something I couldn't shake off, something that disturbed me to the point where I cried over my pizza later that day because I just couldn't get it out of my mind.

I'd seen a video pop up on Twitter of a little boy in Syria who was hungry. He'd said he hadn't eaten in three days. When he was asked what he wanted, he said simply: 'bread'. It chilled me to my core.

Clips of hungry children regularly feature on appeals such as Comic Relief and Band Aid, but it's never really hit me with as much power as this video did. I can't really explain why, I guess I just wasn't mature enough to fully understand what I was seeing before.

And now, as I recall afternoons spent with my toddler nephew, him coming over to take a massive dribbly bite out of whatever it was I was eating, it was particularly painful to see.

Like most sensible and sane people I know, I felt hopeless and helpless. How can I fix this? How can I feed this child?

Sitting there with my pizza, I felt guilty but clueless as to how I could make a difference. I decided to talk it over with my boyfriend and explain why I was feeling so down. He told me that he too felt gutted, and he'd had to be so careful about what he now looked at on the web, as it was starting to really get him down.

He sat quietly for a moment, thinking, and then he shook his head. "All he wants is bread!" he said, before following it up through gritted teeth: "hashtag Gift Face!".

I hadn't got a clue what he was on about, but he looked frustrated and angry, shaking his head.

Hashtag Gift Face wasn't a phrase I'd heard before and it turns out it's because I've not been watching enough TV.

On their website, Harvey Nichols – the department store behind the phrase – explains. I will use their exact wording, to avoid any scathing, furious spin on my part.

'We've all been there, opening a Christmas gift that is beyond terrible. A gift that isn't even worthy of gathering dust on your shelf. A gift that makes you question if the giver even knows you at all? A gift that leaves you no other option… Gift Face.'

Eh? What? I read on a little further and found their definition of this new term. 'Noun. The contortion of one's face when feigning excitement, happiness or gratitude for a terrible, terrible Christmas gift. Be it a pained smile, a raised eyebrow or an expression of sheer shock – sometimes there is no avoiding the awkwardness of giving your loved ones the dreaded Gift Face.'

My blood began to boil with annoyance. Feigning gratitude is a legitimate thing, and something that's apparently so prevalent it's being poked fun at by this upmarket business. Is this really what we're all about? Pained smiles? When there are kids starving?

I hate Christmas as it is, because I'm a miserable Scrooge with a largely uncomfortable family situation. All of the joys of the festive season died years ago when I realised it wasn't Santa bringing me my Dream Phone. But as I've got older, I've seen people spiral into credit card debt, present-buying stress and endless 'want, want, want' lists, and I've begun to hate it. This ad campaign is the cherry (or should that be holly?) on the cake for me this year.

I love the days off work, don't get me wrong. But I don't even buy in to the miraculous coming of a baby from the womb of a virgin, heralded by angels and a wandering star, let alone the forceful consumerism.

For me, Christmas is nothing but a greedy buy-fest, which has become longer and more drawn out over the years as big corporations have worked out the best way to milk us of our money.

These days, the beginning of November brings with it adverts designed to make you part with your cash. We are consuming at a vast rate. Long gone are the days of finding an orange and some walnuts in your stocking. These days such a thing would earn a Gift Face of such cosmic proportions the bearers mug would likely never recover, leaving them twisted in an annoyed Harvey Nichols grimace for the rest of their days. Hashtag ungrateful gargoyle face.

I'm not saying that I don't consume – I do. I was only rushing across to Harvey Nics website last week to see if they had discounted a Moschino bag I've had my eye on for a while (though I have been begrudged to buy as I'd never be able to afford anything to fill it if I splashed out). I'm not even saying I'm annoyed at the shop itself – I don't think they're to blame, necessarily.

However, I am depressed by the fact they seem to be so utterly thoughtless in their approach.

I have received gifts in the past that I had no use for – bath sets when I only have a shower, sugared almonds that make me heave, that kind of thing. Maybe I have feigned being delighted to see them, because I think about how they could have saved themselves that £2 and I would rather die than hurt the giver's feelings. But if that's the case, I'll just regift them (yes, I regift. So?) or I'll take them down the chazzer for reselling to benefit those in need.

I have never, ever feigned gratitude with a Gift Face. Spreading the notion that this is an acceptable thing to do is something I think Harvey Nics should be a bit ashamed of.

When I see clips of children starving, crying with desperation and wishing for something as basic as bread, it makes it all the more grotesque. I don't know how to solve world hunger. The reality is that the kid is probably already dead by now and I don't have a solution for such a travesty.

But I do know that on Christmas Day, I'll accept any gifts I am fortunate enough to receive with fresh sense of gratitude. And I hope you do too. Hashtag thankful, lucky face.