It’s another weekday morning...

And you’re opening the fridge to get the milk and you spot that mark on the calendar.

You have to get a present, soon.

For the rest of the day, all day, there is a little thought running around in the back of your mind, trying to figure out what to get, and where you look for it. Or perhaps you have no idea but just know you’ll have 25 minutes after work on Tuesday before you have to pick up your son from music practice, so you should be able to swing past a department store and hope for the best because that’s the only chance this week.

And so you find yourself in a shop straight after work, surrounded by shining shelves of stuff, credit card itching, clock ticking, panic rising, listening to Celine Dion, with one screaming thought in your otherwise paralysed mind: 

You have to buy something. 

To get something done and to stop your mind from spinning, you try to pick out a card. The cards are gushingly sentimental, lecherous, dad jokes or juvenile. You think, “Who writes these things?” and pick out a blank one in which you will later write your own quick wish. 

You buy some wrapping paper and a bow, even though you don’t even know what you’re wrapping yet.

You have 10 minutes left before you need to go. You are stuck between a paperweight (he has a study!), a book (she reads!) or what you hope is a good bottle of wine (everyone drinks wine, right?).

Kate Spade Paperweight

Brown Hill Estate 2011 Ivanhoe

Marian Keyes

You grab the book. It’s new out, it’s thick and it has a “Bestseller!” sticker on the front.

You think, Success! I’m done!

 

What you think you’ve done:

You’ve fulfilled your obligation and got your friend a present.

What you’ve actually done:

You’ve just bought a biography for a sci-fi buff. You’ve just bought a large paper book for someone who now only reads from their Kindle. You’ve just bought a glowing tribute to a political figure from the wrong end of the spectrum. You’ve just bought a book with small print for someone whose eyesight is failing. You’ve completely lucked out and just bought the one book that birthday boy wanted, so now he has 2 copies: one from you and one from her husband.

Your gift recipient accepts your gift with perfect good grace and sincere thanks, but their look of surprise isn't quite the look of delighted surprise you'd hoped for.

It’s a good thing you kept the receipt, right?

It’s easy to give a bad gift, but it's also easy to give a good gift.  We won’t always be able to avoid every mistake and Celine Dion, but I’m hoping that with a few pointers, a few links and a little inspiration, your next gift-giving experience will be a better one.

Next: What you need.