Most gift guides are written by people who haven’t stepped foot in a real store in five years. They’re just churning out lists of affiliate links for stuff they’ve never touched, hoping you’ll click so they can make six cents on a ‘luxury’ bath bomb that will probably give the recipient a rash. It’s annoying. It’s lazy. And frankly, it’s why your closet is full of weirdly shaped vases you don’t know what to do with.
The gift guide industrial complex is lying to you
I’ve spent a lot of my own money trying to be the ‘good’ gift-giver. In 2019, I was in this high-end boutique in Seattle—everything smelled like expensive dirt and woodsmoke—and I bought my sister a $38 candle that the salesperson swore was ‘transformative.’ It wasn’t. It smelled exactly like the fluoride treatment at a dentist’s office. My sister, being the honest person she is, used it as a doorstop for three months before ‘accidentally’ dropping it. I felt like an idiot. I spent nearly forty bucks on a heavy glass jar of bad-smelling wax.
We need to stop doing this. A gift under $50 shouldn’t be a ‘placeholder’ gift. It should be something she actually uses until it falls apart. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. If the gift doesn’t solve a tiny, nagging problem in her life, it’s just a chore she has to display when you visit. A bad gift is like a heavy ghost that haunts her shelving unit.
The Baggu hill I will die on
I own fourteen Baggu bags. That sounds like a mental health crisis, but it’s actually the most rational thing I’ve ever done. People will tell you that any reusable bag is fine. They are wrong. Most of them are made of that weird, scratchy non-woven plastic that rips the second you put a carton of milk in it.
I tested this. In 2022, I took a Standard Baggu (which costs about $16) and loaded it with three 2-liter bottles of seltzer. I walked 1.2 miles home in the rain. The bag weighs exactly 52 grams when empty, but it didn’t even strain. I’ve washed my oldest one at least 50 times and the pattern is still there. It’s one of the few things under $20 that feels like it was actually engineered by people who live in the real world. Buy her two. Don’t get the weird animal prints unless you know she likes them; stick to the solid colors or the classic stripes.
Worth every penny.
I used to think mugs were for people who didn’t care
I was completely wrong about mugs. I used to think they were the ultimate ‘I forgot your birthday and bought this at the pharmacy’ move. But then I realized that most people are drinking out of terrible, chipped mugs they’ve had since college.
If you’re going to buy a mug, it has to be the only mug she wants to use.
Don’t buy those giant ones that weigh three pounds before you even put coffee in them. Look for something handmade or a specific brand like Hasami Porcelain. They’re about $28-$35. They stack perfectly. They feel like actual stone in your hand. It turns the morning caffeine addiction into something that feels slightly less like a desperate scramble to wake up. I know people will disagree and say ‘it’s just a cup,’ but those people are probably drinking lukewarm Folgers out of a plastic travel tumbler. They can’t be helped.
The Anthropologie problem
I refuse to buy anything from Anthropologie. I know everyone loves their volcano candles and their gold-rimmed glassware, but I find the whole store deeply irritating. It’s overpriced clutter disguised as ‘bohemian luxury.’ I might be wrong about this, but I’m pretty sure that store is just a tax haven for people who wear too much linen and have never had a real job.
If you buy her a $40 trinket dish from there, you’re paying for the brand’s rent in a fancy mall, not the quality of the ceramic. It’s just plastic junk. Avoid it. If you want to get her something for her house, go to a local pottery studio or even a high-end hardware store. A really nice, solid brass Japanese shoehorn is $45 and it’s infinitely cooler than a candle that smells like a grapefruit exploded in a sugar factory.
Skincare is a minefield (and I’m sick of it)
Don’t buy her skincare unless she specifically asked for a refill of something she already uses. I’ve seen so many ‘Best Gifts for Her’ lists recommending ‘firming’ creams or ‘anti-aging’ serums under $50.
First of all, if you give someone an anti-aging cream, you are basically saying, ‘Hey, I noticed your face is falling down, here’s $42 worth of chemicals to stop the rot.’ It’s rude. Secondly, skincare is so personal. I have a friend who breaks out if she even looks at a product with Vitamin C.
If you absolutely must do ‘beauty,’ buy the Lanolips 101 Ointment ($17) or a high-quality French pharmacy hand cream like Caudalie ($16). They’re safe. They work. They don’t imply that her pores are too big.
A few things that actually don’t suck
- The Quince Silk Pillowcase ($29): I’ve tested four different brands of silk pillowcases and this one holds up better after 40 washes than the $80 ones from Slip. It keeps your hair from looking like a bird’s nest in the morning.
- AeroPress Coffee Maker ($40): It’s ugly. It’s made of plastic. But it makes the best cup of coffee you can get for under a hundred bucks. I’ve had mine for six years and I’ve only had to replace the rubber seal once.
- Kinto To Go Tumbler ($35): It’s Japanese design, it’s sleek, and it actually fits in a cup holder. Unlike those giant Stanley cups that make everyone look like they’re carrying a small toddler around.
Anyway, I digress. The point is to stop buying things because they look like ‘gifts’ and start buying things because they are good objects. Most things under $50 are designed to be thrown away within a year. Don’t contribute to that. Buy the bag. Buy the good socks (Darn Tough, obviously, they have a lifetime warranty).
I don’t know if any of this actually helps or if we’re all just rotating the same $45 between each other until we die. I sometimes wonder if we’d all be happier if we just stopped the exchange entirely and went for a walk instead. But until that happens, just make sure the candle doesn’t smell like a dentist.
Buy the socks. That’s it.