Don’t do a Donald: the rules of regifting

You may have been glued to the preview extracts from Mary Trump’s just published, tell-all memoir: Too Much and Never Enough. If not, let’s just say it’s not full of love for Uncle Donald. Mary Trump is Donald’s elder brother’s daughter, so her recollections of life in the Trump family are better than an exwife’s. She was the kid in the room when no one thought she was listening, the witness to fights and scheming, the wide eyes and ears at family gatherings. And then there are the presents Uncle Donald gave her.

Of all the ways to judge a person, their present-giving is up there, if they get it miserably wrong. Nobody gives a stuff about presents – until the day they receive a gift so careless that no present at all would have been infinitely preferable.

Donald Trump, you may already have guessed, is the master of the horror present. He once gave his niece a gold lamé shoe packed with sweets, a present so left-field she assumed it had to have been regifted. Another cracker was a goodies hamper with all the quality contents removed, leaving mainly olives. These presents say it all: pass-it-ons from a billionaire who can’t bear to let even a freebie go if there’s anything left in it for him.

So. This might be a good opportunity, in cash-strapped times, to reflect on how to avoid being a lousy present giver (henceforth Doing a Donald). Here goes:

It’s important to know your audience, e.g. don’t give the tuberosescented bath oil to the person with bad eczema, the “Nose-to-Tail Eating” cookbook to the vegan or the handbag to the person who works in fashion and, guaranteed, has 20 handbags.

Get a grip about regifts. Everyone can spot a regift a mile off because everyone knows you didn’t head out specially to get a pair of Union Jack leather gloves, or a set of flavoured olive oils. It’s simple: own up to your regifts and don’t give them on special occasions.

If you are loaded and not sure what to get, go for something anonymous and universally appreciated, such as champagne or caviar or both.

If in doubt, lemon trees/jasmine plants go down well.

“I saw this and thought of you” is the best present, and if “this” is a pair of £5 surf shoes to solve your bruisedsoles-on-the-pebble-beach problem that’s perfect, and so much better than the luxe beach bag.

The post-Covid world has given us all a chance to go frugal and small-businesssupportive. Obvious examples would include books from your local bookshop (not Amazon) and a voucher for a restaurant (v. welcome to give us a Wolseley one). Candles have acquired a bad rep as presents. Like to turn that one around right now (though not the scented variety). Don’t buy anyone anything they have to put on display unless you know them Really Well.

That should do it for now.