I recently spent some time in the Eames House in the Pacific Palisades, as part of a story for the newish very chic Paris based design title Neptune Papers, which I think you can only read in print. Sorry. (Not sorry. Subscribe! Merry Christmas to you!) Anyway, I was there, in Charles and Ray Eames’ perfectly preserved kitchen, with its little round kitchen table and humming refrigerator and countertops heaped with things, totally taken aback by the volume of stuff. I mean, these were collectors. Hundreds of blue and white dishes (Ray loved to elaborately entertain, even if just for family, and would only use blue and white), little porcelain figurines, wooden carvings, children’s toys, punched out tin jewelry from a visit to Mexico, spoons, jars, sterling silver boxes and shakers, dried flowers and fresh, various glass objects, paper wrapped packages tied up with bows. In other rooms shelves and tables and sections of the floor were taken over by plants and souvenirs and artifacts and driftwood and textiles and design inspirations, the flotsam and jetsam of life. There was just so much stuff. It was immensely touching, somehow, to see the way these icons of modernism really lived, which was maximally: surrounded by all these little things. Their designs may have been what was inside their heads: this was what was inside their home.
Look: stuff doesn’t matter. But day to day, it’s also all there is. It’s okay to want it, and get it, and give it, too. It can be significant stuff or deeply stupid stuff, but at the end of the day it is just stuff. Your stuff. It can’t save you. It’s up to you to make it interesting. (Would anyone other than Joan Didion’s paperweights and desk ephemera sell for 5 figures? Probably not.) If buying stuff right now makes you happy, let’s go for it, I’ve got some ideas for that. If it doesn’t, give them a subscription to the Paris Review or County Highway. Write your would-be recipient a letter, paint them something, give them a shell you found or an IOU for a spa day or trip somewhere fabulous down the line instead. I’d be thrilled to get a thoughtful note and an IOU for a plane ticket. (For one thing, it would make my holiday return packing, when ones belongings seem to swell along with ones Grinchy heart [and waistline], much easier.)
In that spirit, I think for most of the difficult to please on my list I’ll be leaning into what one of my favorite LA shops, Tortoise General, recently informed email subscribers is called Kie-mono: “direct translation of a disappearing stuff(!), which is a considerate and safe gift option for someone you may not know well, such as consumables like gourmet snacks, high-quality teas, or artisanal soaps and incenses. These items are practical, easy to appreciate, and won't go to waste! (Such a Japanese mindset!)” Their list at the link above is pretty good (I always love chocolate, tea, and incense), but I’ve got even more for you below.
Without further ado (and upon request, so take all whinging about gift guide fatigue elsewhere, please) some finds for the holidays and beyond. (Some more permanent than others.)
Does she live in LA (or somewhere that suede is feasible for more than a week a year) and wish it was the late 1960s? Join the club. How about a perfect suede jacket (above), handmade to order*? Or this one, which says it's for men but could be worn by anyone, especially open, over a perfect white tee, which I would personally love. [*This won’t be ready for christmas, but WILL be worth the wait. And see my above note about packing after the holiday….]
Soap sounds like a boring gift. This is only true if it’s bad soap. This brick of soap, from the always excellent Flamingo Estate, is gloriously refreshing, gently exfoliating, and pleasingly dramatic in dimension.
Do they appreciate rare, perfectly rendered baked goods? Order them a perfect chocolate panettone From Roy to arrive in time for New Year’s. Throw in an attractive serving platter (top right) they’ll use all year.
I recently had the pleasure of being a passenger in a car which had Diptyque’s Figuier piped through the vents. In my world, a car that does not smell like dog is a real treat, but this was real luxury. Pura has one that smells like red rock and amber that is very decently priced. D&S Durga makes great auto fragrances, too, on cute hang tags, if that’s more your speed. (I love ‘85 Diesel.) I guarantee none of the above will give you a headache. Give to the pet parent or frequent roadtripper in your life, or treat yourself, if your lift needs a…lift.
For nervous nellies who need to keep their hands busy in 2025, or those seeking a craft that has absolutely zero digital/screen requirements (and will keep them off it): basket weaving kit. Everybody’s doing it. (Actually like a weird amount of people really are doing it.)
How about the quintessential cold climate boyfriend sweater (I’m using boyfriend the way Gwyneth does, when she makes breakfast for her husband on Instagram)? I like dark olive or mustard, but the options run the gamut. It’s always a hit. Really. Since high school, when I gave one to my high school boyfriend. I bet he still has it. I would!
Sometimes I think the best gifts are equal parts stupid to special. This seashell shaped jewelry box nails that equation. You could put a friendship bracelet or candy necklace inside, or something really fabulous, like a multi-stone stunner by the genius Pippa Small (more on her in a later missive, because she and her gorgeous work bears in depth treatment!) or this insane diamond choker by Lucy Delius.
A bottle of good mezcal and these fun glasses to drink it from.
Are they spending the holiday somewhere warm and fabulous? How about an iconic sheer Jean Paul Gaultier halter? (Sorry, there’s only one. That’s vintage for you.) Add a fun beachy bag that will make sense in the city, too. There: she’s Jane Birkin.
Give them aperitivo hour with a bottle of Sistine Spritz (or Ghia, if they’re N/A), some favorite delights (these potato chips, or these nuts, or, you know, go to Erewhon, or the bodega) and these lovely and very reasonably priced bowls.
For the mane attraction: the best hairbrush in the world, now in cherry red. Add 14th Night’s sumptuous shampoo and conditioner to go with it.
Everyone always asks about my Ossa phone case. Get them their own and a chic shell chain so everyone can ask them about it too.
For those with unlimited budget and excellent taste, every girl I know was obsessed on sight with these Cece Jewelry enamel-painted diamond and gold baubles. I know because they were all DMing me about it after the trunk show.
Freaked out about all the rollbacks in food regulation? Me too! Let’s grow our own lettuce.
I am a Terry’s chocolate orange purist, but that was before I saw that my favorite stocking stuffer now comes in mint. It is still called a chocolate orange, confusingly, but I get it, you don’t just drop that kind of brand recognition!
Zingermans, in Ann Arbor, is a national treasure. Their entire catalogue is a seasonal treat I pore over like those “clean girl aesthetic” folks do the vintage J.Crew ones. I’ve already ordered these glorious looking chocolate dipped figs for a few of my fig-loving friends (and the handmade candy bars for myself), so friends, act surprised. For everyone else, don’t worry, you’re still getting Leckerlee!
A funny thing about people getting married later (if at all) these days is that often people who are for all intents and purposes fully functioning adults don’t have the kinds of adult things that they’d normally have gotten from their wedding registry. I’m not saying the late twenty-something on your list wants a toaster or a blender for Christmas (though they should consider the excellent Beast blender, and a top-of-the-line toaster/airfryer is on my own wishlist) but it’s the kind of stuff that they will actually use and appreciate on a regular basis. The best gift is bettering their life a little in a way they may not prioritize in this economy: monogrammed towels that are soft and attractive and instantly upgrade their bathroom, or the Stagg electric kettle, which is the gadget that I use the most in the kitchen and is nearly unimprovable. Also rather handsome, which never hurts. (Give with some great teas, dried bone broth, a 10 pack of ramen noodles, depending on your recipient.)
For your friend who likes to talk about their perfect sleep hygiene, how about a cozy care package? The BEST Magnesium bath soak (for tired muscles and stress and five minutes peace), a fluffy bathrobe in a handsome banker stripe normally seen on shirting, and some lounge-around clothes they’ll want to wear outside, too. For her: this and this. For him: this and this, and/or a very fancy t-shirt he’ll keep until it falls apart.
For the gal who grew up shopping the Delia’s catalogue and knew that one day the semi-ironic adorable beaded evening bag would be back. (Now we wait for blow up furniture.)
Is she’s always talking about how she wants easy, everyday earrings? Who doesn’t! These are great, too.
For the serious watch collector, an elegant box in which to stash their stash is a nice way to say “sorry I can’t afford Paul Newman’s Daytona.”
But this watch, by Hermes, and for her, is slightly more doable. And very good looking.
Or go off-piste, with another (purely ornamental) idea for the wrist!
Witty ornaments fill any number of gaps for newish friends, friendly relatives, or the people who you know and know you best, in which case you can really go to town with the references. I love Houses & Parties’, but you could also do this yourself, with a hand drawn clever tag on a cheap ornament you got at the drug store, not that i would ever encourage that….
The workout fiend will always welcome a chic new set to break a sweat in. Pair with Tower28’s miraculous Daily Rescue facial spray. (If they’re unfamiliar with the bacteria-fighting redness-preventing magic that is hypochlorus acid, show them this. They will thank you.) They’re all set for sets? How about elevating their post-workout coffee look with a cute pullover and a hat that supports an institution they love?
For the frequent traveler: upgrade their wheeled carry-on, if they need. (This is the gift that keeps on giving.) Throw in a washable skin-saving silk eye-mask, a cashmere scarf so capacious it doubles as a blanket for the plane (and in everyone’s favorite chic shade this season), Moon Juice’s jet-lag fighting combo of Ting and Magnesi-Om, a deeply hydrating mist, and the absolute best lip balm ever invented so they don’t dry out. (If this doesn’t feel festive enough, the lip balm also comes in candy cane.) They’ll thank god for you every time they take a red-eye.
This Métier bag is my constant new travel companion and it—and its yummy (a word I abhor except in this specific context, which is fabric) suede sheen and perfect interior and exterior organizational pockets—never ceases to lift my spirits, even on what was recently my first-ever SpiritAir flight (honestly, it wasn’t that bad!). I intend to have it forever. Should you be shopping for someone who is less of a nerd for organization, this Toteme suede tote is really tops, too.
These are very special earrings, and someone very special would love them forever. This is true of most of the things Melissa has up at Old Stone Trade, but they are also ready to ship immediately, which at this time of year…is important.
That’s all I have for you so far. I think it’s quite a lot, actually! But of course I’ll come up with ten more things once I’ve sent it. If anything else comes to mind, I’ll pass it along. Thanks, as ever, for being here. It means everything. Send me a note if you feel like it! I love reading them. And you, for writing them.
xo ATC