How This Black Friday Turned Into a Day I Won’t Forget

This year’s Black Friday was unlike any I’ve experienced before, not just because of the shopping frenzy but because it coincided with the general election here in Ireland.

The day felt like a mix of chaos and excitement, a whirlwind of democracy and discounts. Our local school was closed for voting, which meant my nine-year-old daughter had the day off, and she was surprisingly keen to head to the shopping centre.

“Today, I’m going to do some damage,” she declared with a cheeky grin. It was an odd statement coming from her, given she’s a saver at heart. Normally, she counts her coins meticulously and decides against even the smallest of treats, so her enthusiasm for Black Friday made me pause.

Was the day having a psychological effect on her too? The allure of bargains, the sense of urgency—it’s hard not to get swept up in it all.

A Chat with My American Neighbours

The highlight of the day, though, wasn’t the shopping itself but a chat I had with my American neighbours. They’ve lived in the south side of Dublin for a few years now, but Black Friday always brings out their nostalgia for home. Over a cup of coffee, they told me about what this week would look like if they were back in Seattle.

“Thanksgiving would’ve been yesterday,” they said, eyes lighting up. “We’d be at home with family, probably too stuffed to move after turkey, mashed potatoes, and pie. And then—bam—early Friday morning, the chaos starts.”

Apparently, in their hometown, Black Friday is an event in itself. Stores open at ridiculous hours, sometimes at midnight, with people queuing up outside in the cold, sipping coffee from thermoses, and chatting with strangers to pass the time. “It’s not just about shopping,” they said, “it’s about the shared madness of it all.”

They even described their family traditions. Emma said her sisters had a whole strategy, dividing up which shops to hit first, armed with lists and a strict budget. “It’s like a sport,” she joked, “but with shopping carts and screaming toddlers.” Hearing their stories made me realise how cultural and layered Black Friday is for Americans, tied closely to Thanksgiving and family dynamics. It’s not just about buying things; it’s a social ritual.

The Email Invasion

Back in Dublin, the day felt less ritualistic and more... relentless. My inbox had been groaning under the weight of promotional emails all week. From sock shops to investment firms, everyone was promising “once-in-a-lifetime” deals. Some offers were so absurd they made me laugh. A gardening website I barely remembered signing up for urged me to buy a discounted wheelbarrow. Another promised the “Black Friday of your dreams” if I subscribed to their financial newsletter.

Despite the flood of emails, I didn’t feel overwhelmed—just amused. It was like the entire economy had been given a permission slip to yell, “Buy this now!” Did I need most of it? Not at all. Did I still click on a few links out of curiosity? Guilty as charged.

The streets and shopping centres were heaving with people, all seemingly on a mission to grab something—anything. It was fascinating to watch. There was a palpable energy, like everyone had been let off a leash. People who might normally browse casually were suddenly intent on snagging a bargain they hadn’t known they needed.

As for me, I didn’t really have a shopping list. But as fate (or clever marketing) would have it, I stumbled upon a gorgeous wool cardigan, one I’d been eyeing for weeks. It wasn’t an impulsive purchase—it was something I’d have bought eventually—but it felt satisfying to get it at a reduced price. A small victory in the madness.

Thanksgiving vs. Black Friday

My chat with my neighbours got me curious about how Americans view this week. A quick glance at Google Trends revealed something interesting: in the US, searches for “Thanksgiving” still outpaced those for “Black Friday.”

It made sense, really. Thanksgiving is about family, gratitude, and food—a celebration that brings people together. Black Friday, by contrast, seems more like the frenzied aftermath, a collective exhale that turns into a sprint.

It’s a fascinating cultural difference. Here in Ireland, we’ve adopted Black Friday in isolation, skipping over the family feast and going straight to the consumer rush. It’s like opening a book halfway through and trying to make sense of the story.

Reflecting on the Day

By the end of the day, I couldn’t help but reflect on the strange, layered experience of Black Friday. It’s a global phenomenon, yes, but it plays out so differently depending on where you are.

In Dublin, it feels like a borrowed tradition, one that’s still finding its feet. But it’s also undeniably entertaining—whether you’re in it for the bargains, the people-watching, or just the excuse to buy yourself a wool cardigan.

And as for my daughter? She managed to snag a notebook and a pack of gel pens, all for less than €5. “I didn’t do too much damage,” she said proudly. Saver instincts intact.