I'VE got something for you. It's not a pair of micro pigs, don't get your hopes up. And don't be shy, there's no expectation, you don't have to get me anything in return. I want to give you some advice, something that I think is in serious danger of being forgotten. Here it is, from me to you: telling people what you want as a gift is not on. In fact, it's totally, absolutely unacceptable.
Unless you are under ten and the person you're asking (note the subtle difference) is Mr Claus of the North Pole.
It could be that this isn't news to you. It may well be that you've never asked for a gift in your life and you never would, since yo
u understand that basic tenet of grown-upness – a gift is something that someone else chooses for you. It is not something that you choose for yourself but get someone else to pay for.
"You know the next time it's my birthday or Christmas or whatever," R said as I scrubbed the chicken tikka from the griddle pan. "Can you not buy me a gadget but maybe something vintage instead? I like old things."
As these conversations go, it was nicely done. There was no stamping of feet or Veruca Salt whining. It might even be that I should've been quicker on the uptake – R's been giving me lovely vintage goodies for ages now (a Norwegian coffee set from the 1950s, an original Habitat angle-poise lamp from the 1960s). Given that even if we don't give to receive, we often give what we'd like to receive, I should've taken the hint. Especially since I've kind of been doing the same thing – an iPod, a Japanese twin-lens reflex camera. Oh, so obvious.
But the request, however polite, made me wonder if we've lost the plot about presents.
Long-suppressed resentments welled up about wedding lists from which I've been forced to buy something overpriced for someone I don't like that much. I can understand that getting 40-odd toasters from Argos because they're on special offer might spoil your special day, but I still don't think you should tell people that it's Habitat's Lila dinnerware or nothing for you.
And if you get a load of old tat, I suggest two things. First of all, take a good look at yourself – rotten presents can be a protest. Second, take a good look at your friends – they might be a bit rubbish. I used to know someone who would present her long-suffering friends with a list of potential gifts she was after about a month before her birthday. It always had to be a joint effort because the desired item was inevitably ridiculously expensive. All of this was bad enough, but it got worse when upon ripping off the wrapping paper she'd act surprised by what she found inside. Madness.
I'm not saying that the effect of a bad gift isn't sometimes profound. It's not nice to think that anyone really believes that you'd like a spaghetti tin filled with pants (Christmas 1999). Or a personalised pen with your name spelled wrongly (birthday 1988). Or Tiny Tears when you so obviously wanted a cowboy suit (Christmas 1979). But still, that's no excuse for asking.
And if you really can't stop yourself, then can I suggest that we might all refrain entirely? That's right, no more gifts. Most of us don't really need anything. We could probably all do with saving a bit of money, what with there being a recession and all. And I've already got somewhere to keep my spaghetti.
