Take a look at this beautifully written and illustrated post by Joslyn Taylor, guest-posting at Design Mom:
"For the past few weeks there’s been a common refrain across the blogosphere alongside any holiday gift-related post…”I know it’s early, but…” Well the gift guides have come out in full force, and ... I spent some time thinking about what makes a gift meaningful.... I firmly believe that something handmade or passed on is infinitely more exciting to give and receive than something store bought... But, despite all my best intentions, I still end up buying a slew of gifts each year online."
I love giving gifts. Let me repeat that with appropriate emphasis. I LOOOOVE giving gifts. And, I'm darn good at it. I'm a gifted gift giver.
It's funny: Cleo asked me last week what have been some of the all time best gifts I've ever received, and I could think of exactly one: a Waterford crystal lamp from my sister Curley. I remembered it because it was personal.
That is the key to gift giving: know your recipient. Remember the commercial where someone gives his bald boss a blow dryer? That's my point.
When I got married, in a previous life, we received one of the dumbest gifts I've ever seen, and if I'm about in insult someone out there because you have the same thing and think it's the first object you'd save if the house caught fire, I am truly sorry and please respect my taste as I would respect yours, no matter how stupid. Somebody, on his side of course, thought we needed a four foot tall cooler shaped like a beer can with a famous brewer's logo which I shall not mention, except to say that the company has something in common with the current president of the US. Except for a glass of wine about twice a month, I don't drink, and I certainly don't drink beer. And maybe the givers really did think we'd love it. Or maybe they had it lying around in their basement and foisted it off on us. Or maybe... maybe they didn't even consider what we might like.
I always, ALWAYS search for gifts that I think the recipient will like. I never send fattening food to people who might be dieting. I listen when friends and relatives comment offhandedly about what they like, or could use, or wish they had. I've rendered many people speechless with my gifts, and that brings me way more pleasure than receiving anything.
A few years ago Curley and I were reminiscing about some of the long lost objects we remembered from growing up. One was a pink porcelain spaghetti poodle with a rhinestone collar that every mom had on her dresser in the Fifties and Sixties. Another was a coffee table book about animals from Reader's Digest books.
I spent the next week on eBay researching spaghetti poodles, which is why I now know what they're called, because I found tons of them and bought one in perfect condition exactly like the one our mom had. I also racked my brain to come up with the name of the book, free associating keywords until one evening, there it was, in pristine condition with the dust cover. I bought two of those, one for each of us; I didn't need to buy two poodles because I still have our grandmother's, which was identical to our mother's. Curley's in-laws scratched their heads when she opened my gifts, but she knew.
A bunch of years ago, after the birth of Cleo, the last grandchild, Curley and I needlepointed a belt for our father with each of the kids' names. The block letters appear in a pattern of four overlapping colors, and if you didn't know to look for names you'd think you were just seeing an abstract pattern. Our father wears that belt almost every day. It, and so many other personalized gifts we've made or arranged, are among his most prized possessions. And whenever I see him wearing it, I feel happy.
Giving is way more fun.
Although I wouldn't refuse a tomato red Porsche.
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