I won’t lie, up until very recently, I’ve been monumentally bad at gift giving. I mean, sure, I give gifts, but they were never particularly well thought through or well considered (or well received, for that matter). When it comes to gifting, especially at this time of year, there is nothing I haven’t been through. I’ve oscillated between high praise to raised eyebrows within the space of an hour. One minute I’m basking in the glow of a good gift, recipient cooing, hugs of thanks galore, the next I’m pulling myself out of the slippery muddy hole that is a friend opening officially the World’s Worst Gift Ever. And that, my yuletide friends, is precisely why I’m the perfect person to help you navigate the next few weeks. If I can learn the art of gifting great gifts, anyone can.
I’d rate Christmas Eve as one of the most stressful days of my life. The idea of leaving all my Christmas shopping to the day before the big day used to feel like bungee jumping from the roof of Harrods. In fact, forget about going out early, why not have a quick, lunchtime tipple, before joining the throngs of bodies forcing themselves down Oxford Street? And this is how I came to purchase the World’s Worst Gift Ever. I knew my friend Kate, sophisticated, elegant, together, wouldn’t wear (or want) a pair of “duck slippers”. But, hey, when you find yourself careering through Liberty wearing a grimace and a headache at 3pm on Christmas Eve, believe me, the duck slippers were calling my name. But that was the old me. I am now transformed. I am reborn. I am the best gift-giver of all time! Well, not quite. I’m still not convinced my husband has entirely forgiven me for the neon pink wallet he received last year – but I liked it, so …
Apart from wrapping, which I will get to later, there’s only one thing standing in the way of you offering up the perfect gift, and that’s time. Don’t explode. I know you don’t have any, but I don’t mean days of research, either. Even a couple of hours should do it and if you can find the time to search, hunt and forage, the payback will be worth it if only to see the look on the receiver’s face. You see, as I’ve learned over the years, a gift says everything you feel too awkward to mention. An outward expression of so many complex emotions all neatly wrapped up in one little package, a great gift is shorthand for I love you, I respect you, I really, really care about you. That’s why, no matter who it’s for, whether it’s an aunt you never see or a work colleague by way of Secret Santa, taking time to choose a gift is worth it.
Or it can be a matter of opportunity. Take last year, for example. As I walked through John Lewis I spied the perfect teapot with matching mug that had my friend Sara’s name written all over it, so I scooped them up, storing them for Christmas. Coming across something a friend will love in such a pain-free way had me skipping out the store.
Given a random walk through the crockery department provided the perfect accidental gift, I now know to keep my eyes peeled when I’m out and about. Portobello market served up the perfect silver antique dessertspoons. I recently had an hour off during a work trip to Paris Fashion Week, so I went to the Marais, where, despite the mega gentrification of the area, there are still one-off boutiques selling really unique gifts. I found a ceramic pot perfect for toothbrushes and squirrelled it away for my brother. I recently bought a necklace from an online jeweller, who makes inexpensive but beautiful gold-plated pieces, AKA the perfect gift for a best friend at Christmas. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find the site again if I didn’t commit to purchase then and there, so I did, even though it was June. Perfect gifts gathered over time may make me sound smug (hint: I am), but it’s only because I now know life is way too short for Christmas-Eve-gift-buying (and writing apology letters regarding aforementioned duck slippers).
I know not all of us get to go to Paris to shop in the Marais. However, hear me out, as there are so many readily available things you can customise to create the illusion of: “Man, I spent weeks trying to find this perfect gift for you.” Two words: picture frames. Nothing is more personal and thoughtful than a photograph, but it needs to be framed. I really like the picture frames that can be found on the high street, even if I hanker after all things silver from Tiffany. One day.
My favourite frame has space for three images, and what better place to look for great pictures than social media. There are loads of great websites that print photobooks and images from Instagram. A girlfriend of mine orders a book a year, all images have been taken by her, so no copyright issues, and most of them are of her son and husband. An organised person, she now owns a photobook for each year of her seven-year-old son’s life. A perfect gift for her husband, and she gets to keep all those wonderful memories IRL. I am not that organised, but I do know this, a friend or family member will always love a framed photograph – it’s so personal. And speaking of which, I recently sketched my friend’s dog and fashioned it into a card. Straight to the recycling bin, I imagine, but it’s the thought that counts. (See also the painting of a tree I gifted to Kate, she of duck slippers fame).
Then there are the times when I arrive at friends’ homes with a bottle of Grey Goose, and instead of it being something that gets put under the Christmas tree for the foreseeable, it’s cracked open straight away and very much enjoyed. It creates moments that are just so much fun and filled with that very specific type of “joie de vivre” warmth, that makes you appreciate how special everyone is, which is a gift in itself. Oh, and I’ll tie some cute foliage around the neck of the bottle, so we know it’s “festive” Grey Goose rather than, say, “Tuesday-cocktails-after-work” Grey Goose.
Which brings me to wrapping. Spending time finding the perfect gift is pointless if it’s badly wrapped. Not only is gift wrap a great way to jazz up even the most inexpensive of gifts, it’s another way of saying: “I spent time doing this because I care.”
As much as I delight in a well-wrapped gift under the tree, I’ve had years of wrapping mishaps. I used to gravitate towards the gaudiest paper I could find because of the sparkle factor, but in recent years, I’ve discovered my go-to paper is the easy-to-cut, simple brown parcel paper you can buy from the Post Office. It also lends itself to being printed and stamped and decorated to your heart’s desire. Just add ribbon, colourful string, holly, berries and leaves et voila, you are officially the best gift-giver of all time. Unless, of course, you happen to be wrapping a pair of duck slippers.
