Creative Director's Cut: Dinosaur's Dan Pitchford takes a retro look at an old Christmas ad for Ikea

IKEA's Christmas ad isn't about perfection or dramatic theming, it's about getting it up to scratch to enjoy a cherished moment of family time, says Dinosaur's creative director Dan Pitchford.

On a recent trip to London with my daughter, we ducked into Liberty. It was a sunny August afternoon, but we found ourselves strangely drawn to its Christmas shop. It felt rude not to pick up an ornament, which of course led to a forensic debate over what would match our newly curated collection. What was “on brand” for Christmas 2025? Did it fit the colour palette? The aesthetic guidelines? After twenty minutes of agonising, we left empty-handed—decision postponed until December.

That’s the thing: these days Christmas feels like a high-stakes exercise in curation. Perfectly styled corners, coordinated wreaths, and tree lights that match the throw cushions. All lovely, but hard to pull off when you’ve spent the year stepping over half-finished DIY projects and trying not to notice the scuffed paintwork.

Which is exactly why the Ikea Christmas ad landed so perfectly with me.

Ikea nailed the pressure we all feel to have a home that looks flawless. There’s such an emotional truth in that insight.

And in a sea of soft-focus sentimentality at Christmas, its freshness cuts right through. Ikea flips the expected with humour, wit, rapping ornaments, a dinosaur… and a grime artist!

The whole thing is beautifully observed, brilliantly crafted and laugh-out-loud funny.

The track is great too. Once again, The Wonderful Everyday platform delivers hit after hit, and Ikea continues to have universal appeal. Hard to believe this was its first-ever Christmas TV ad. I, for one, hope it’s the first of many.

So back to reality… my own house may never live up to a glossy Pinterest board this year, and those nagging DIY jobs aren’t going anywhere. And honestly, that’s fine. The 80s kid in me knows the best Christmases were never the tasteful ones. They were the ones with multicoloured fairy lights, tinsel in every shade, and a tree groaning under the weight of mismatched ornaments. It was chaotic, loud, and full of joy.

So maybe I’ll ditch the minimalist warm whites, carefully chosen garlands, a strict colour palette and instead dig out the tinsel, go fluoro with the fairy lights, OTT on the ornaments, and trust that no one will even notice the crack in the wall or the half-painted skirting board. They’ll be too busy enjoying the chaos.