On overgifting

Also: The one thing I would give to everyone if I was doing that this year.

This is the newsletter of design journalist and editor Emily Grosvenor, author of the book Find Yourself At Home.

16 years now of using a smaller Christmas tree.

I’m 47 years old, and I’m still trying to dial in a gifting philosophy that will work for this season.

My deepest instinct is to overdo it. I want delight. I want surprise. I expect crying. Tears represent my highest achievement. I want nothing less than the other person to feel deeply seen and held and appreciated and Jesus Christ-level adored.

Basically, I want the spectacle of connection, through stuff. So I guess I’m an overgifter, if overgifting is to give too much.

Overgifters like me have a whole lot of science to support the compulsion. Gifting is good for you. A study from the Journal of Social Psychology showed that it pumps more pleasure hormones of oxytocin and dopamine into you when you spend money on someone else than when you spend it on yourself. Spending money on others lowers the gifter’s blood pressure.

This is all pretty great news for those of us who drag ourselves November through March with basement-level neurotransmitters.

But even as I am in the midst of love-bombing someone with stuff, I know there is a danger zone, a deep relational price to over-gifting. Giving something that is too big, too expensive, or more than the recipient can or wants to reciprocate.

Spending more on gifts doesn’t actually make the receiver feel more appreciated or loved. And at its worst, it might make the recipient feel worse. I know this, and yet I find myself, every year, trying to set boundaries on myself as I prepare holiday gifts.

My gifting impulse first spilled over into overgifting the year my husband and I moved across the country to Oregon. We wanted to share what we were discovering about our new home with all of our far-flung friends, and we would do it for under $30 a person. Genius!

It wasn’t a big list. It had, maybe, 15 people on it, but I had never exchanged gifts with most of them before. I just missed them. I set about gathering small consumables like a bag of hazelnuts, one perfect bag of small-roast coffee, a jar of strawberry rhubarb jam, a bar of single-origin chocolate, or a box of turmeric tea marketed to fix all of your mental health problems. Tea is such a great gift for family!

I didn’t often hear back from the people I sent gifts to (call the Emily Post Institute), but I kept at it for over a decade, zealous in my belief that I had come up with the perfect way to tell friends and family that I loved them after putting 4,000 miles between us. After all, I wasn’t adding any crap to their environment – it was all consumable.

That’s overgifting Rule #1: Ask yourself if you are even in a gifting relationship with this person.

When our kids came along, I was ready – limitless overgifting. The gifts dwarfed the tree. Giant boxes of building supplies. Life-sized plush tigers. I didn’t even follow the age ranges suggested to me. I bought a 3-year-old the 3,187-piece LEGO Star Wars Mos Eisley Cantina. I bought so many gifts for them that I would find gifts that didn’t even get given for months after the holiday.

Kids, I learned last year, aren’t capable of recognizing over-gifting until the age of 12. But by then, I was a pro. I was making gift guides for media clients. I was going on TV with selections of perfect gifts. Gifting? Oh, I’ll tell you how to gift!

I consumed so many gift guides – they’re the mall in your lap! I became a connoisseur of gift guides – let me be your guide to the gift guides. I know which ones have the best copywriter. I know which ones never change up their product. I know which ones will second another copy in three weeks so I can throw this one out.

Meanwhile, the gift guides got evermore specific. Look at all of this new stuff for divorced women aged 32 who care about skin health!

A single question fueled me: Just where – I demanded to know – does the perfect gift exist within a Venn diagram of useful, beautiful, and goddamn delight?

On I gifted. Instead of one present per person, it became five gifts. And who else could I gift to? Neighbors? Professional colleagues? That guy I know who just moved to town, who I could make feel welcome? My favorite barista?

Somewhere in there, I even managed to figure out how to get gifts for my own mother, a Grade A Level Impossible Receiver. It was a marble and brass tissue holder from Williams Sonoma. I finally got it! Her gifting category sweet spot is mundane luxury!

I finally learned my lesson last year with my best friend and her family. I had decided that it would be The Year of Gifting. Since the holidays flatten me every year, I would avoid all of the other holiday extravagances by concentrating only on presents. I bought my best friend six gifts, along with one each for the kids, and a – dare I say it – perfectly chosen shirt for her husband. I even included an extra family gift, probably a gold medal category in the act of showing you can please everyone.

I must have known that I was going too far, since I started warning my friend weeks ahead of time of what was coming. I gave her a play-by-play of my shopping adventures. I texted with questions about what the kids were into. I called with inquests: “Turquoise or lime green?” I demanded sizing.

I was tracking the gifting weather for her. Girl, get ready for the superstorm!

She was so kind. Many times, and in evermore declarative sentences, she said she was going light on gifting. She was decluttering. They had too much stuff. They just wanted to be together. They were in a Season of Less. Eventually, the gracious phone call: “Wait, are we doing this?”

I got the message. I ended up giving her the sweater anyway (perfect color!). I gave my boys their boys’ gifts (so clever!), saved the shirt for my teenager (lucky boy!), and saved the family game I had included for our household “Random Gift Box” (watch as I delight you!).

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Tom Cruise and the Doan’s Bakery Coconut Bundt Cake he sends out to his inner circle each year. I used to love this gifting philosophy – everyone gets the same goddamn thing! – but more and more, it feels like this weird way to congratulate others for having his discernment and clout graciously bestowed upon them.

Cupped-hand whisper: “Did you get the cake?”

Is that what I was doing – making it about me? At what point does gifting stray from being about the person to being about the giver – my creativity, my insight, my money, my time, my thoughtfulness? Is there a way for me to do this holiday without making the Christmas season some kind of egoic metastasizing brand-building event?

Does anyone else put this kind of pressure on themselves when they are gifting? Why do I always feel like I’m not doing this right and need to do it better? Is it just the people with the most seasonal depression that go gift-crazy? Is gifting my slot machine?

I realize that to many people, the scope of my gifting might not even seem outsized, even close-to-normal. It’s not like I’m Elizabeth Gilbert buying a Range Rover and a penthouse for my best friend. But I’m just too overwhelmed by the chance to get it exactly right.

But I’m trying — again — to rein it in a bit over here this year. I’m having more thoughtful conversations with family about whether or not we will be gifting at all. We are headed south for the holiday – less time to wade in the madness of Christmas sales. Adam’s taken over most of the kid presents since he has a better idea what teen boys want. I’m doing one gift per person instead of giving them “more to open” (seriously that’s a thing). My sister and I just this week decided: No gifts.

Then she sent our boys German chocolate advent calendars (and I loved it).

Maybe it’s enough, in this moment when the pressure feels so high, to understand and accept that after having been the baby and the harried parent and maybe even the donkey in this show, I know now that all I want right now, in this part of my life, is to be the Magi.

I know where to get the frankincense.

At the risk of adding to the gift guide madness I share with you the host gift I would give people if I were spending $45 on a hostess gift. These are new room sprays created by my favorite indie perfumer, Douglas Little, of Heretic Perfume, in collaboration with The Edward Gorey Estate. Pure genius. There’s a Christmas-y fir scent called Tannenbaum, a Haunted Tea room version, Evil Garden, and Fruitcake versions. A sweet bit of darkness befitting the darkest month, a nice alternative to the standard candle, perfect with a snazzy bow, and made without the synthetics of most fragrance products. I ordered Tannenbaum for a family member we are visiting who will get it.

If you want a good laugh, see this piece where I told you how I rein myself in by getting everyone the same thing. Still trying to figure things out over here!

12 years of sending the same present to everyone on my list

Once again, Pantone picked its Color of the Year, and, even more than usual, it’s a divisive one. It’s called “Cloud Dancer,” and it is — wait for it — white. Usually I try to be more reflective about what the Color of the Year means, but this year I don’t have much to say other than this color does clouds so wrong.

Zillow removed climate scores for listed properties this week (NYTimes). Some argue that they weren’t accurate, but I suspect too many real estate folks complained that it had a chilling effect on sales. As a climate change mover (in 2009) I’m disappointed. Buyer beware if you move, as you’ll have to do more of your own research.

Elle Decor did a thing on Ozempic Trees and what it means about this moment (and how to decorate). In Oregon, we just call it a Noble Fir.

House Beautiful did a thing on tacky Christmas on Tik Tok, though I disagree that mismatched ornaments are tacky.

My plan this year is to practice better receiving of gifts, so this piece about Ego Nwodim at BHG on how to avoid Resting Gift Face was helpful.

Can you tell that I’m feeling a bit blah about the holidays? Home & Garden put out this piece about the “Nostalgic Holiday Trend” and I’m just having a hard time believing that people who use their heritage, family-loved ornaments are doing a trend. Christmas content is getting really unhinged.

🤔What are you doing differently?

Honestly, this recovery stuff has been harder than I imagined. I had made a list of all of the stuff I was going to do during my recovery, and I’ve crossed out maybe 5 out of 35 things. I still hit a wall at 4 p.m. and can’t do much more of everything that needs to get done. Last week I had a meltdown when the month changed to December and I realized that holiday deadlines were approaching. I already printed our annual New Year’s card and realized it had a dumb message on it that I will now send to 100 people. Also, 95% of my family and friends have a birthday in the next 40 days. Taking the Anne Lamott bird-by-bird advice as much as I can, but I’m a big picture person and that’s a lot of birds! How are you faring? Do you give yourself a pep talk for this season?

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