Isn’t it amazing the way people fall so clearly into two types when it comes to V-Day?

On the one hand are the ones who lap-up the whole hearts, roses and declaring-undying-love thing.

Then there are the rest of us. The mulish ones, who don’t want to be forced to buy a piece of reinforced cardboard and a bunch of overpriced roses for our other half just because Planet Retail views February 14 as a chance to send the tills into warp-factor ten.

Because it’s not just tomorrow, is it? True romance means it’s a retailer’s wet-dream for at least a week before the big day.

In fact, in the USA (where else?), they’ve coined the name Red Saturday for the Saturday before Valentine’s, because that’s when the biggest splurge happens.

According to online dating site eHarmony, this year loved-up Brits will splash out an insane £1.9bn on lurve-related guff, including chocolates, flowers, hampers, teddy bears, drinks, lunches, dinner and hotels.

That’s mushroomed from £1.3bn last year, which is, frankly, insane, with the average shopper forking out £53.38 on gifts for their sweetie.

And apparently, two thirds of us send a Valentine’s card and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Not, that is, if you’re in Oxford and the object of your desire is in Nova Scotia. Or you’re desperate to stay anonymous.

What I can’t understand is why couples are expected to make Hallmark shareholders happy, when they live in the same house?

What happened to talking? Or texting, come to that, which would at least be cheaper.

It’s not that I begrudge the cash, although, come to think of it, I do.

It’s more that I’m with Jessie J on this (“it’s not about the money...forget about the price tag”).

And what irks me most about the load of old twaddle that is Valentine’s Day, is the yawningly predictable idea of conforming to a retailer’s blueprint of what you should say and when you should say it.

Going back to Valentine’s cards, we spend more than £45m a year buying them, which works out at £1.86 per card, according to The Greeting Card Association.

But we don’t just give them to people we fancy and/or our partners (let’s be honest, not always the same thing), there’s something scarier happening.

According to retailers, we’ve started buying them for our children, friends and even parents.

I’ve got three words for anyone who does this (and you know who you are): Get A Grip.

Moving swiftly on, let’s talk about going out for a so-called romantic dinner for two.

Instead of doing this pretty much any other night of the year, when there are special deals, for instance the one at Brown’s in St Giles offering three courses for £16, make sure you go on Valentine’s Day evening and pay double.

That’s right. I received an email last week inviting me to take advantage of Browns’ incredible offer.

What is this wonderful bargain? It turns out to be £30 for three courses.

Just a thought, but if I wanted to waste £14, wouldn’t it be easier to set fire to it in the back garden?

Anyway, let’s talk flowers. I’m using the word ‘flowers’ loosely here, because there’s usually nothing left except hot-housed chrysanths in dodgy pink with browning petals and a price tag that would make a grown man weep.

According to Interflora, 63 per cent of people who send blooms for V-Day choose red roses, which is proof that the whole thing is a huge cliché with £-signs attached.

So, if you ask me, Valentine’s Day isn’t anything to do with a-mour, it’s just more. Expensive, that is.

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