Areas of Unrest

24 December 1999 - The Art of Gift Giving

QOTD: "Prophecy is very hard, particularly when it involves the future." - Yogi Berra

Reading: Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World

Listening to: American Musical Theatre, Volume 1

I set out to run a few errands in the morning, the most important being a stop at an ATM for money and a visit to the post office to send a couple of cards overseas and to mail a couple of not really Christmas gifts. What I mean by the latter is that they're things I happened to see that I thought the recipients would enjoy and it was really coincidental that I sent them off now. In general, I buy things for people for no particular reason other than a sense that they're right for that person. I was reminded tonight of one of my most spectacular successes in that direction. About four or five years ago I was at a crafts fair in San Francisco and I saw a small pillow made out of kente. (Kente is a type of West African cloth, characterized by bright colors. It's associated primarily with Ghana but similar fabrics are produced in neighboring countries.) The label called it a dream pillow and said that it was supposed to inspire creativity. The combination of that idea and the African fabric immediately made me think of Leslie. I knew he'd think it was a bit odd that I'd buy him a gift, but I just had this sense of that pillow being meant for him. I saw him tonight at Penny's party and he told me again how much he loves the pillow and how he uses it all the time in the storytelling workshops he teaches. He asks his students to find some object that is special to them and shows them the pillow, telling them it's his special object.

I mention this because I was thinking about people using wish lists and people feeling obliged to give gifts for certain occasions. I do think it's worth recognizing events but I'd sooner receive mere good wishes than something poorly thought out. Selecting from the large but limited stock of on-line merchants limits creativity. The joy goes out of the process when you reduce it to checklists.

By the way, I have a similar problem with bridal registries. I've given two particularly well received wedding gifts amongst many less inspired ones. (The uninspired ones usually involve either salad sets or ice cream makers, depending on the year. Robert usually gives toasters.) The first time I felt I really hit the mark was with a lamp. The couple involved hadn't lived on their own before so it was useful. And I knew the bride's tastes well enough to be confident that she would like it. The other great success was with my own brother, when I got him a gift certificate to Home Depot. I knew he wanted a ladder and some hand tools and that Ramona wanted some gardening things.

I also seem to get a lot more praise than I think I deserve for knitting baby stuff. It really doesn't occur to me to buy baby gifts since making them is so pleasurable and the results are both higher quality and more original than department store offerings. If I didn't do handwork, I think I'd go for the intensely practical and do something like pay for diaper service (or some house service that would free up time for the parents). I also like the idea of giving the new parents gifts for themselves, like a gift certificate for a day spa or a massage or the like.

I'll end this by talking about the best and worst gifts I've ever gotten. Actually, I can't think of anything really dreadful that I've gotten from friends, outside of the white elephant gift exchanges at work. I got a photo album as a bon voyage gift that was one I'd never use, but the person who bought it would have had no way of knowing how absolutely fussy I am about photo albums. And I'm sure I've gotten some perfume that I wouldn't ever use from someone or other but, again, that is something I am unreasonably fussy about. My aunt and uncle used to bring us pretty terrible stuff from their vacations - things like cheap change purses with pictures of palm trees on them or plastic alligators or souvenir playing cards and so on. But they were generally clueless, having given me the absolute worst gift ever. I really wanted a chemistry set, which was a bit too expensive for my parents to get. Aunt Bernice gave me a "make your own perfume kit" on the grounds that it was the feminine equivalent. I didn't make an issue out of since a 10 year old is hardly going to persuade her 50-something great-aunt that she wants to grow up to be Madame Curie, rather than Madame Chanel, but I've never forgotten the indignity.

Which reminds me of the worst reaction to a gift that I've experienced. I met a guy the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college and we carried on a long-distance relationship for the next year or so. He came up to Boston one weekend to see me and brought three gifts - a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates and a set of six glass coffee cups. When I opened the package containing the latter and exclaimed over them, he said "don't get excited. They aren't crystal." That was a good clue of how little he understood about me and he went on to become the first of a string of men I dated who married the very next woman he got involved with. In between, he went to Israel to study for a year and made a big deal out of sending me a gift via a mutual friend. I was expecting something that had at least a vague connection to my tastes, but it turned out to be an enameled napkin holder worthy of Aunt Bernice.

As for the good gifts, it seems that I mostly get books. Robert is remarkable at finding ones that I'd never have thought to ask for but do enjoy when I get them. I suspect this is because we've known each other so long that he has good instincts in this direction. My brother is also quite good at buying me books, particularly art books. But he also really hit the mark by getting me a set of dolls at a garage sale once. There wasn't an actual occasion involved - he just saw this set of 25 regional dolls of France that had been part of an Air France promotion from the early 1960's and knew I'd like it.

My birthday gift from my mother is always a good one. She always gives money but the point is that it's in accordance with a tradition in her family where you get your age in dollars. I don't like the money nearly as much as I like the idea of carrying on tradition. She's also given me some pretty nice jewelry over the years.

I remember one gift that was undeservedly successful - namely, a needlepoint kit that I got as a sweet sixteen gift from a boy who was part of our crowd. He apparently asked his sister what to get and that was her suggestion, based on her interests since she didn't know me at all. It started me down a path that's given me great pleasure over the years, so proved to be quite well received in the long run.

And that's really what distinguishes the best gifts I've gotten. The pleasures of the moment are one thing, but having my eyes opened to new experiences is better than anything else. I may have asked for the college graduation trip to Europe that I think of as the best gift I've ever gotten (I later learned that my father thought I'd ask for a stereo when he decided to ask me what I wanted) but I'd never have put a needlepoint kit on my 16 year old self's wish list.

So here's my wish list in two words - surprise me.