My Christmas Dos and Don’ts: A Shopping Guide
Like most people, I fancy myself an easy-to-shop-for kind of gal, and like most people, I am secretly particular, impossibly quirky and hard to please. In an effort to take some pressure off of your Black Friday gift-buying excursion (and under the assumption that I am on the top of your list), I’ve decided to provide a little shopping guide. Go grab a note pad, and you’re welcome.
1) For a spring tradition with a just-in-time-for-Christmas makeover…
Don’t get me candycane flavored Peeps. Peppermint marshmallows? Gross. I don’t really care for the traditional Easter Peeps, but at least they’re cute. These things look like gun shot victims. Do they remind you of Christmas? They remind me of Reservoir Dogs.
Do buy me a six-pack of Cran-brrr-itas. In fact, put an asterisk by this one. I haven’t tried this flavor yet, but I like the Lime-a-ritas enough to risk exposing myself as a total south Georgia redneck by drinking them at parties. I can imagine the cranberry works here, and I appreciate that there is some onomatopoeia in the title. Well done, Budweiser.
To keep me cozy…
Don’t get me a Snuggie. Snuggies are shapeless, horrid, and made from synthetic fabric, and I don’t want one in this house. It isn’t because I wouldn’t wear it but rather because I fear I’d never be able to take it off. There is real potential for a Gulum and his “precious” ring scenario here. I have an old drafty house, and I like to be warm. Like, crazy-warm. I wore a bathrobe (and occasionally a scarf) to the dinner table for three winters before my husband finally called a contractor to blow in a bunch of extra insulation. It’s warmer at home than it was in winters past, but you know what? I’d be even warmer in one of those horrid Snuggies.
(this could happen)
Just get me a turtleneck. I love turtlenecks. My daughter thinks they’re “dorky,” but I couldn’t give a rip what that girl thinks. Get me a turtleneck. If you really love me, it will be cashmere. If you buy me gifts out of family obligation, it will be acrylic. No hard feelings. I already know into which category I fall. I could also use a new UGA sweatshirt. I have been wearing the same one since I was 19 (i.e. literally half my life).
(I would rock this)
If you want to get me something spicy…
Don’t get me a cinnamon broom. Brooms, even if they have spice-encrusted bristles, are lousy gifts. Cinnamon brooms are witchy in appearance and have an overpowering odor. I don’t see how the employees in the floral department of the grocery store can stand to work in such close proximity to them without wearing a respirator.
To please my coffee-lovin’ soul…
Don’t get me a Kureig. I’ve had this stuff at friends’ houses. I can admit it is good, but what do you expect me to do with one measly cup of coffee? Eight ounces of joe is the poke that wakes the bear.
If you’re particularly brand-loyal to Kureig, bring it on, I suppose. I will put it on a bedside table, and perhaps that single cup will hold me until I can get into the kitchen. You could get me four Kureig coffee makers to sit side-by-side on the counter. I’d also enjoy one of those industrial set ups that they use at diners and in hospitals.
For a gift with international flair…
Don’t get me a fancy box of assorted European chocolates. I hate to put this down as a don’t, but I’m horribly allergic to nuts of all kinds. You hide them in chocolate and label them in German, and I’m playing Russian roulette for Christmas.
A nice alternative to imported chocolates might me an Italian leather carrying case for my Benadryl and Epipen. And a sympathy card.
And finally, to treat my feet…
I don’t want these beautiful J Crew shoes. Not even a little. Let’s forget about the fact that the ligaments in my ankles are as slack as the elastic waistband in a vintage pair of Jockeys. Let’s not even acknowledge how hard it would be for me to make it out of my bedroom door in these 4″ heels without spraining both ankles. Let’s just focus on the straps. The very dark straps. With tassels! Dark straps do for ankle width and leg length what neon vacancy signs do for creepy motels: they draw attention to them. When you look over your Christmas list, find the woman whom you’d describe as “willowy” and buy her these shoes.
A good alternative to these pumps might be
a nice pair of ballet flats Tevas an upholstered footstool. And a pan of nut-free cinnamon rolls. Or a six pack of cran-brrr-itas. I will kick back in my dorky turtleneck and get my Christmas on.
(photo credit: stichinpostinsisters)
Feel free to leave your own dos and don’ts in the comments section. Happy shopping!