The Perfect Gift?
There is a story, probably apocryphal, about a popular supermodel married to a movie star. When she was suffering in bed with a cold, he offered to bring her a hot cup of coffee. She noted this seemingly sympathetic gesture and, shortly thereafter, left the handsome jerk.
After all, she figured, if they’d been living together for a few years and he hadn’t registered the fact that she never drank coffee--never, ever, not even once in a while, even if you called it cappuccino--then their union was fatally flawed.
Even if this tale of emotional abuse in Bel-Air isn’t true, it defines the central tenet of successful gift giving: Know thy love object, and gift accordingly. The rule is so simple as to be almost common-sensical. Well, I’d rather repeat what should be obvious than have women faking gratitude Christmas morning on my conscience.
All a man who wants to choose the perfect gift has to do is observe. Ever see her wearing a necklace or a scarf? No? Well, chances are she doesn’t like them. Observations should always overrule conventional wisdom. Not all women like diamonds. Some don’t crave any kind of jewelry.
The converse is also true. If she’ll wear anything as long as it’s black, guess what her favorite color is? If she has a fabulous collection of belts, she probably loves belts. Even though she has a stockpile of them, she might not have the Gucci belt of the season or a classic from Hermes.
One of the most treasured gifts I ever received from a significant other was a pair of plaid flannel boxer shorts that were part of a “lots of little packages instead of one big thing” strategy. I had been borrowing his--baggy boxers and a tank top, constituting an ideal writing outfit on a warm day at home. I loved that he not only had noticed my idiosyncratic costume but gave it tacit approval by offering a new version. The present wasn’t expensive or glamorous. It was me.
Observing a woman’s preferences, then sticking close to her style is a sure-fire way of avoiding disaster. But some would argue that it takes some of the fun out of gift giving. You mean, just because you’ve never seen her in a thong, you can’t wrap up a few and nest them under the tree?
Aha. The delicate subject of lingerie has surfaced. As heavenly and as beautiful as sexy underwear can be, I’ve never met a woman who thought anything crotchless or cupless was a loving gesture. The trouble with a lot of lingerie is that it pleases the giver more than the recipient (lots of gifts are designed to do that).
Here are a few rules to add to the “avoid ventilated undergarments” warning. In general, the practical isn’t valued, ergo anything that plugs in is not a nifty idea. However, there are exceptions. If anyone wanted to get me a new Compaq laptop, complete with docking station and a big monitor, I’d be pleased. And a small bathroom television that broadcasts the “Today” show while hair is blown dry, legs are shaved and makeup is applied is practically a feminine birthright. So is a compact cell phone. If the billing address is yours instead of hers, then you’ve created a gift that keeps on giving.
Some quasi-practical things fall into the category of stuff I love to have that I never want to buy for myself. Scented candles, potpourri, art books, a cord or two of firewood, thank you very much.
(Editor’s note: Aha! Seems there’s some disagreement in our ranks over the value of firewood as an objet d’esteem.)
An abundance of soft, fluffy new towels. Come to think of it, abundance is often an important concept. Why else would the room filled with roses be such a romantic staple? A scented candle is lovely. A dozen, sublime. The bold gesture is impressive. A man sure enough of his taste to buy a Dhurrie rug gets points just for moxie. Even more if the rug is a beauty.
Despite the diamond caveat above, luxury generally goes over well. Clothes made of baby soft leather are a pretty safe bet, but perfume isn’t. Most women are very particular about the scents they wear and not eager to experiment. It’s hard to fail with cashmere.
Some confusion stems from the fact that all those years of paying for dates tends to make men value experiences more than women do. A gift certificate for a massage, a thoughtful surprise on the face of it, is only a memory the morning after. Women like stuff they can see and touch. Still, edible gifts--even the cliched foods of romance, caviar and expensive chocolates or champagne--are dopey, kind of impersonal and far too fleeting. A massage is a good gift, so is a trip for the two of you. But if you’re bucking for eternity here, or something close to it, a car is better. It lasts longer.
The worst gift is the one that suggests a woman should turn into someone else. An all-expenses-paid membership in a weight-loss program is a no-no. A week or two at a spa is better, but the paranoid woman remembers that those places used to be called fat farms. It is the rare woman who dreams of getting a series of Botux injections with her favorite dermatologist. A course in biofeedback designed to teach stress reduction techniques might be interpreted as a signal that her Type-A personality isn’t her most appealing trait.
Our culture persists in weighting the present ritual with layers of meaning that make it more complex than it need be. So some women foolishly cling to the idea that the perfectly chosen gift is evidence that the giver possesses mystical knowledge of her. A soul mate reads minds. Well, sometimes a soul mate just knows how to take a hint.
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. But the J. Peterman catalog, as evidenced by the following discussion of black silk pajamas, has a far more elaborate point of view: “Somewhere in December, somewhere between Gramercy Park and Basin Street, a beautiful woman is opening a present. The man knows her, but not very well. He would like to. She would like him to. She is used to a certain lack of imagination from new admirers. She sighs.”
The Hemingwayesque sentences are brilliant, hinting as they do that a woman with a rich romantic history remains ever hopeful. The snippet of a story promises that the hero can bring a sparkle of surprise and delight to her eyes, and will win her heart. Sigh. Would that a gift could possess such magic.
