Since six female editors on Vogue magazine disclosed their de-luxe Christmas break plans, from trips to the Caribbean to snowy Val d’Isère, the harassed hostesses of the nation’s “squeezed middle” have been venting outrage.

Snowballs of ice-cold satire have been lobbed at these women from higher moral slopes. Detox spas? Sparkling gifts including rings worth £3,000? Suffice to say, none hoped to find themselves the sponsor of a goat in an African village.

While the glut of aspirational consumerism made their plush choices fair game, the reaction also carried a bleak hint of seasonal envy. The hard-pressed working women of Britain were like street urchins staring in at Mr Fezziwig’s festive party through a frosty window pane.

The Vogue writers, after all, are employed to make ludicrously expensive things sound desirable. A couple had even written with flashes of self-knowledge (particularly the fashion features editor’s aim to turn her home into a “concept store”).

The attacks came from a shared certainty that what makes a good, ethical Christmas is charity and self-sacrifice. That may well be, but someone still has to be in “receive mode”. Pouring scorn on all those wishing for a special present on the big day is a bit elitist in itself. Not everyone already has too much “stuff”. Repurposed vintage goods and homemade chutney are all well and good if you already have some earrings and a nice set of headphones. If not, these items might well make your yuletide bright.

Even Dickens’s modest, generous-spirited Christmas party at Fezziwig’s would not have been much fun without a bit of limited excess.

• Vanessa Thorpe is arts and media correspondent on the Observer