With all that’s gone on over the past few months, we really don’t blame you if (like us), with just one week to go, you haven’t even started to think about Christmas shopping yet. Between an energy crisis that makes the prospect of receiving a sack of coal feel positively luxurious, and the general sense that the world is spinning off its axis and into oblivion, it’s easy to think that most people wouldn’t really pay it much mind if you were to forego giving physical gifts in favour wishing them festive goodwill.
That notion does not apply to the picky fashion fans you’ve met before in our previous ultimate gift guides. You see, yours is a social circle populated by people who measure your worth by the presents you give them. Do you think Svetlana will continue sneaking you into 5 Hertford Street for anything less than a suite at the Dubai Mandarin Oriental? Or that your cheugy #girlboss cousin will like your pics on Instagram without at least a bottle of Chloé’s Atelier des Fleurs to make it worth her while? Abso-fucking-lutely not!
Well, ever the festive elves, we’ve pulled together this handy crib sheet to guide you through how to pick out the perfect gift for the pickiest fashion freaks in your life below — and another, naughtier one for the real freaks out there here! Merry Christmas!
Your bitchy sugarbaby bestie
What a year our Svetlana has had. Last Christmas, who would have thought that our Saint Petersburg princess would soon find her whole life turned upside down — her credit card declined at Harrods, and her busy schedule touring Europe’s glittering capitals dashed, giving way to a year spent shuttling between Bodrum, Dubai and Tel Aviv. It’s not easy being filthy — and questionably — rich in 2022, you know! For some reason, people find it inappropriate and offensive, but Svetlana considers herself a patroness of the arts, a modern-day Peggy Guggenheim. Though much of her art collection has been seized, why not buy her an NFT this Christmas? Just tell her they sell them at Christie’s now, she’ll no doubt appreciate they don’t require a fixed address, or walls, for that matter. Svetty was never stupid enough to chop up her Chanel purses like many of her fellow countrywomen, but instead — like all good suspiciously wealthy internationals — weathered out the storm quietly, clutching her dustbags filled with leather goods like Marie Antoinette on her way to the guillotine. Given that she’s been living between the Mandarin Oriental and LifeCo retreat in Bodrum for what seems like an eternity, constantly flitting between room-service kebabs and celery juices, there are naturally things she misses about Knightsbridge and Saint-Germain-des-Près. Contrary to what you might think — it’s the simple things: a pot of Marmite, her beloved Daylesford broths, some of those Dior x Harrods gingerbread biscuits she watched everyone unbox on TikTok, French butter, gluten-free Buckwheat Crunch from Lanserhof, and copies of Hello! magazine. Something practical wouldn’t go amiss, either: Arabic or Turkish ‘for beginners’ could come in handy. Only time will tell where Svetlana ends up, but rumour has it she’s planning a comeback to Europe and is finally ready to launch her line of demi-fine jewellery. If you’re feeling uber-generous, why not throw a bag of ‘dirty pebbles’ her way. A diamond, after all, is just a lump of coal that did well under pressure.
Your cheugy #girlboss cousin
Nobody has worked as hard as your cheugy #girlboss cousin this year. She has worked so hard, all year long, and so there’s no point in really buying her anything at all because — in the spirit of that joke from Parks and Recreation — she believes it is the time of year to “treat yo’ self”. She’s got seriously into those TikToks about ‘the 5-9 before the 9-5’ in the past few months, and so she’s very invested in streamlining her self-care morning routine so that she’s ready to roar by the time she heads out her bathroom swaddled in a Tekla x Jacquemus towel. To that end she’s stocking up on Typology skincare, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley mascara, a More Joy beanie, a bottle of Chloé’s Atelier des Fleurs and, just to really treat herself, a Charlotte Tilbury gift box to pick up in January when she’s mourning the loss of her Dior advent calendar. And even while she’s making herself look great, she’s girlbossing on the side and making sure her mind is engaged too: why else would she be asking Santa for that Patreon subscription to EmRata’s podcast? But, ‘tis the season after all, and cheugy girlboss needs a break from the always-be-optimising mentality as much as anyone else. So for her 5-9 after her 9-5, if you really want to treat her, lean into the other side of her self-care obsession: Pump Street chocolate, Lockdown Liquor’s Easy Liquor canned cocktails (or a little bottle of Moët for the ubiquitous golden bar cart in her flat), a Haeckels candle and, of course, the pièce de resistance, a pair of platform UGG boots to slip on at the end of a tough day.
Your spoilt hypebeast brother
Ah, your poor hypebeast brother! Since Raf Simons’s announcement that he’s closing his label, he just hasn’t been quite the same. Of course, as soon as he heard the news he ran straight down to DSM to pick up as much stock as he could physically carry, but grief has really begun to settle in. Add to that the fact that he couldn’t cop HEAT’s latest Contemporary Box after your mum blocked his access to her card after seeing the sum he dropped on Palace Gucci — “But mum, this is me investing in my future!!” — a Tom Sachs chair and a single jumper from Raf AW03. So, your baby bro’s seeing out the year in pretty low spirits, which is where you come in! It’s Christmas, after all, and there are few people better placed to bring the boy some cheer. Whether a tailored Wales Bonner tracksuit to help sharpen his sportswear tastes, a VanMoof e-bike to give him a good reason to get out of the house and back on the road, or a pair of MM6 x Salomon trainers — we all know that it’s the gorpcore guys that get the girls! — there are plenty of steezy options out there that will help him help himself, and get him out of this funk! Weeks spent moping in his room haven’t left him looking his best either, so a set of skincare goodies from French men’s beauty brand du jour Horace — or if you want to go all out, a lifting facial at Haeckels House — would make for thoughtful gifts, as would a bottle of nice smellies like Comme des Garçons’ Concrete or Calvin Klein’s Defy. Then again, given what a picky little bitch he is, it’d probably be easier to get him a generous Browns voucher — a cop out option, for sure, but one certain to keep him happy!
The based It-girl
With a new year just around the corner, the based It-girl is saying out with the old and in with the new. Or secondhand, should we say. That’s right, your favourite trendy gal is finally waving bye-bye to her City Bag and frantically scrolling Vestiaire for its replacement before the rest of us clock on — a Tom Ford-era Yves Saint Laurent Mombasa. If that wasn’t enough to make her niche army of TikTok followers jealous, you could throw her a bone by purchasing an Alexander McQueen skull foulard to insouciantly trail from its horn handles. She’ll love you for giving her the bragging rights for catalysing the accessory’s 2023 revival. Though she’d never admit to being so late to a movement, it-girl is still pining over the Apple Airpods Max, with serious kudos at stake they’re rightfully accessorised with the Wildflower ‘Slay’ covers à la Devon Lee. If this serial shopper already has the Miu Miu ballet flats and legwarmers in every neutral colour, consider making a purchase from Loewe’s home fragrance line, because it-girl knows that the apotheosis of chic is having a home that smells of sugared beets. If all else fails, though, a package of sessions at her local floatation tank should offer some much-needed respite, not to mention time to brainstorm for her before her next Substack writing session.
Your art school graduate niece
As harsh as it may sound, if this were Pokémon, your art school niece would basically be the devolved version of your based it-girl bestie. Sure, she can pull a fire look, but she has earned herself a reputation as a bit of trend lemming — a sartorial chameleon, switching out her outfits for whatever Simi and Haze Khadra were wearing the other day. She has taste, but it’s not exactly what you’d call intentional or refined. 2023, however, is set to be the year that all changes. Yes, she may still harbour a latent, burning desire for the new gold Telfar x Moose Knuckles tote — and yes, she would literally sell her father’s kidney for a pair of AVAVAV boots and the entire Kiko Kostadinov x Hysteric Glamour collection — but she’s hellbent on making this the year when people take her a little more seriously when it comes to her style. The year that this art school girl becomes a fully-fledged art school woman! Cultivating an air of refined chicness starts on a rudimentary level, so a good thing to add to this big girl starter pack is washing powder from Byredo’s Blanche line. It smells exactly like what you’d expect Byredo washing powder to smell like — success — and will convince anyone she wafts past that that’s exactly what she has. Granted, that illusion will be tricky to keep if they come back to four-bed, seven-person flatshare where the heating hasn’t been switched on since last winter, so a bit of cash towards her bills would also be a thoughtful gesture. The one thing she really needs, though, is a big girl bag — the sort of investment accessory that would make any it-girl clock her as one of their own on first sight. Now, she isn’t quite ready for Chanel Jumbo Flap, but a Maison Margiela 5AC or a Miu Miu Wander strikes the perfect balance between the ingenue she once was and the power bitch she’s on her way to becoming.
Your mum
You are on the phone to your mum to ask what present she wants. As expected, this is a deeply painful and time-consuming experience. A Kafkaesque nightmare. You ask a supposedly straightforward question — “what would you like for Christmas, mum?” — and what results is endless complaints about life, love, the metaphysical complexities of the universe, you and your behaviour. You settle in and take notes, reading between the lines of the complaints, because you are an expert in Mum Speak. Your mother complains about being old, haggard, decrepit. “No you’re not, mum”, you say on cue, adding 111Skin masks and Augustinus Bader’s Rich Cream to your basket. “It’s freezing in here, and your dad won’t turn the heating up, tight bastard”, says your mum, as you press ‘buy’ on a cashmere blanket, a Liberty London hot water bottle and Mariage Frères tea to warm her up. “Nobody helps me with Christmas dinner anyway, every year,” she complains. “Would you like me to h-” “No” “Okay,” you sigh, and buy her a kit of all the spices you can’t find in Aylesbury so at least she’ll season it this year, as well as a pack of Fortnums biscuits and a set of William Morris teacloths. “When are you coming home anyway?” she asks at last. “I never see you. You hate me.” “I don’t hate you mother,” you say. You are lying on the floor now, saying this into the carpet, your brain mush. You buy a voucher for both of you to have tea at Claridge’s, and as a last resort add a Smythson notebook to her stocking. Your mother still refuses to admit she needs therapy. Journalling is a start, though. Right?
Your bigoted boomer relative
You’ve managed to knock back a glass of Moët and dissociate while they bluster things like, “So, what are the dog’s pronouns then?”, this year, you’ve had enough. To be honest, this bigoted brute deserves nothing for Christmas, but if you somehow find yourself with enough surplus festive cheer to bother giving them anything, make sure it’s something that’ll enlighten them a little. Whether it’s a book meant to help aid the unlearning of their bigoted beliefs, or something a little more entry-level — say, a ticket to Wakanda Forever or even the latest issue of i-D — it’s about demonstrating that life is so much richer when you chip away at a bleakly myopic perspective on the world that’s near-exclusively framed by Telegraph headlines and Jeremy Clarkson’s tweets. Look, if Prince Harry could perform the 180 he did, then your relative has very little excuse. Anyway, given that the only thing they’ve read cover to cover in the past few years is the Mail on Sunday, perhaps the best way to broach this is from a more experiential tack. Will they be venting their disdain for migrants any shade darker than olive with quite the same gusto after a slap-up meal at Gymkhana or the swish new Strand location of Ikoyi? We don’t think so!
The person you got in Secret Santa
Do you know this person? No! You were presented with this person’s name on a piece of paper out of someone’s upturned bobbly beanie hat and your mind was a perfect blank, a canvas of nothingness. You ask your office BFF who this person is. Is this a wind-up? They look back at you, bemused and affronted, and tell you this person has worked here longer than you, and that last week they made you a cup of tea. You still have no idea who they are. But look, a blank slate is not always a bad thing. Secret Santa is essentially a way to communicate your own good taste, nothing to do with the actual person you got. As such, you begin to put together a stocking of items that both cement your position as the resident aesthete, and a charitable, knowledgeable bitch who knows what everyone will like. Surely this stranger at least lives in a home, you think, and so you furnish that imagined home with a More Joy doormat and several interchangeable Le Labo and Diptyque candles in inoffensive, vanilla-adjacent scent profiles. Why stop there? What about a Jo Malone reed diffuser? Some boujie baubles? Sure, they probably have a Christmas tree! No wait, what if they don’t have a Christmas tree? You begin to feel bad about knowing nothing about this person. You begin to worry that actually you’re the problem, as Taylor Swift might say — that working with you is a deeply tedious and stressful experience (in spite of your impeccable taste). Feeling sorry for both yourself and your Secret Santa, you chuck them some CBD oil to calm them down, and one of those pass-agg massive water bottles with timings on the side, because everyone needs to stay hydrated and basics love these.
Gen X boho zaddy
Here it is, another Christmas with this awful fucking man in your life. How has this happened? You spent the entire summer complaining about him to everyone you know, but you still haven’t managed to escape an inevitable festive shag with the most sinister archetype of masculinity you have ever encountered. Whatever, time to make the most of it. It’s getting choppy out there and Gen X boho zaddy might like to think he’s still young — that’s why he absolutely will not let you call him daddy in bed — but his skin is betraying the truth. Given how much he liked the movie Joker last year (he made you go see it with him in a Richmix cinema, he called it a “character study”, you went home and he did not go down on you) he would love a selection of skincare from Jared Leto’s Twentynine Palms. Actually, double down on that. Party season is not wearing well on him this year, and the hairline is looking precarious, but don’t tell him that; just get him some scalp treatments and vitamin injections, and tell him it’s the new frontier in self-care. Because he’s very into self-care at the moment. He’s trying to better himself, or at least that’s what he keeps telling you before he stops texting for a couple of weeks. He’s going to the gym more (get him some pilates classes at BLOK, and watch him try and fail to get with the instructor). Throw in an elasticated knee bandage for his dodgy joint though. He maintains that he will learn to play the dusty Fender Strat in his living room next year, so you get him a set of plectrums and a Marshall Bluetooth amp to encourage the hobby in the chic way he believes he should learn. Bettering himself extends to clothes too, but nothing too crazy or post-2011. You try to imagine what Julian Casablancas would wear if he lived in Nunhead in the year 2022 and pick up both a pair of suede Saint Laurent Wyatt boots and New Balance trainers. Finally, with heartbreaking optimism, you include a Dishpatch festive menu voucher. Perhaps you will have a cute date night in, you are thinking. Perhaps he will let you speak this time. Perhaps he will bang on about how he was all for LGBTQ+ rights in his 20s, but now this pronoun stuff is just going a bit far you know. Perhaps. Perhaps next year you should not have sex with this man anymore.