She’s Making a List, Clicking It Twice

Every year around this time my mother and I used to trek to the mall. I’d pick out something, usually a sweater or skirt, and she would buy it. On my birthday, when she handed me the wrapped present, I would feign surprise.

The system--devised by Mom years ago after acknowledging that we had very different tastes--worked well until I moved away from home. Then I’d call and try to describe a certain burgundy sweater. She, of course, would buy the maroon one instead.

This year, however, I may have found a way to tell Mom what I want--and actually get it.

Similar to gift registries, online wish lists enable individuals to compile a list of stuff they want for a wedding, a housewarming or, in my case, a birthday.

Creating a wish list is much like shopping online. Instead of selecting an item for your shopping basket, you place it on your wish list by clicking on the appropriate icon.

When you’ve finished browsing--or simply selected everything from the store, as I found myself doing--you can e-mail the list to your friends and family.

They receive a link to the site and your individual wish list. If they want to buy you something, they simply click on an item and submit their credit card information.

It’s a little tacky, but very practical.

Some sites, such as https://www.wish.com, create wish lists with products from multiple online merchants.

But the site, and several others like it, did not include some of my favorite merchants, so I decided to create wish lists at the individual sites instead.

I started my spree at https://www.bananarepublic.com, and found that it was much more fun, and expensive, to shop for myself when I wasn’t paying.

I wanted the wool suit. And the black boots. And the burgundy merino sweater. And the one in gray.

In five minutes, I had picked out more than $500 worth of clothing. I didn’t mean to be greedy--I actually didn’t expect that much--but I wanted to make sure Mom had enough options to choose from. Really, I was thinking of her.

So on to the Gap. A pair of jeans and the khaki pants, please. Oh, and the denim jacket.

But as I soon discovered, online wish lists are good only for those items you can purchase online.

Although the Gap listed the denim jacket on its site, it noted that the jacket was unavailable online at https://www.gap.com.

Disappointed, I stopped byJ. Crew at https://www.jcrew.com to search for the green corduroy peacoat I’d been eyeing instead, but the site didn’t offer the wish list feature.

This was a major blow. Had I known I wouldn’t be able to ask for anything from the store, I would have added a cashmere sweater or two to my Banana Republic list.

Although I had asked for more than I knew I would receive, I had tried to maintain some restraint with my requests. No more.

I wanted it all.

The $200 cell phone, the $300 personal digital assistant, the $500 cell phone PDA. The leather jacket. The diamond earrings.

OK, maybe I was going a little bit too far.

I stopped after adding a few CDs to my Amazon wish list at https://www.amazon.com and decided to wait for the goods to roll in.

But a week after I sent my mother the e-mails, I had yet to hear from her.

Afraid I was being an ungrateful child (which, if you ask her, wouldn’t be the first time), I called.

“So, um, did you receive the wish lists?” I asked casually.

“It’s already taken care of,” she said.

A few days later a package arrived from the Gap.

I wonder what it could be?

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Christine Frey covers personal technology. She can be reached at christine.frey@latimes.com.