Dipping a toe into the Christmas present minefield
WHEN does December stop being December and start being Christmas instead? For me, it’s nothing to do with fairy lights in windows, hen nights where the pink cowboy stetsons are replaced with red Santa hats or seasonal TV ads warning about the drink-driving laws.
These are part of the build-up, not the event itself. Because as far as I’m concerned, Christmas only truly arrives the moment magazines start publishing their guides to present-buying.
I look forward to these because they are so reassuring. I am terrible at buying presents; but gift guides are even worse. Gloves? Really? I think I could come up with the idea of gloves on my own, thanks. And if I knew people whose faces light up with pleasure when they unwrap a fresh set of mittens, underpants or socks, then I wouldn’t be frantically consulting a gift guide.
Most people find the hygiene implication behind soap or lavender eau de cologne rather insulting, and if you give CDs, you might as well be gifting a gramophone with a trumpet speaker, daddy-o. CDs are like Trident: we spend a fortune acquiring them, we’re never going to use them and every so often, someone has a big moan about the whole cost and storage of them – and yet we can’t discard them.
I need suggestions that are different, interesting and allow me to fake the personal touch. ‘I really thought about you carefully,’ is what you want the item snatched from Spar on Christmas morning to imply.
That’s one reason you should not buy gift vouchers. They come inside cards that might as well have, ‘I really couldn’t give a tuppeny toss,’ on the front. Nothing costs exactly the amount on the gift card. If it’s less, you wind up with a credit for £1.56 you will never use. If it’s more, you’re partly buying your own gift.
Tempting though it is to indulge someone’s favourite hobby, that can also backfire, especially if they are passionate about golf. Do you know how many golf-related novelty gifts there are in the world? More than Eskimos have words for snow. A lovely, uncomplaining friend of my mother’s now has the full set of golf accessories, toys, stickers, and clothing.
Of course, it’s hard not to let money play a part in presentbuying calculations. Right now, Scottish parents are looking at bank statements and saying: ‘How much is my kid REALLY worth? Graeme has been good this year, but he hasn’t been new Xbox good – just iTunes gift card good.’
One friend of mine got a canvas shopping bag as a Christmas gift, with the instructions that it was ‘a gift for the family’ (ie four people). Even now, in quiet moments, he ponders what sort of massive offence they must have given to be awarded joint custody of a bag with Tesco on the side.
Another friend was given a book ‘because I know you’re interested in language’ – and unwrapped an easy-to-read version of the Bible.
On the flip side of spiritual presents, according to Google, ouija boards have been one of this year’s most popular toys because, you know, it isn’t bad enough dealing with your living relatives. And if you move the glass fast enough, the board will probably spell out: ‘No more personalised golf balls, please.’