A Christmas Confession

Amy has a secret gift giving tradition.

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

AMY:  OK, Thanksgiving's over. So what's next on the agenda? It's Christmas of course! And this year, I'm going to give myself a secret little challenge: Can I Christmas shop for everyone on my list--without buying anything for myself in the process?? Hmmm...for me, it's not so easy.

This is what always happens. I begin my Christmas shopping with the very best, "giving" intentions. I listen for clues, like when my mother complains,"I can't believe I left one of my fancy brown, leather gloves in a cab." I think, "Mum: fancy brown leather gloves, check!" Or when John stops to look in a shop window at a new forest-green cashmere turtleneck, I think, "John: green cashmere turtleneck, check!"

The trouble begins when I get into the stores by myself. I'm seduced by the giant sale signs: "75% off ticketed price" or "Last-Chance Blowout !"  I can't help but browse for myself too. Why not? The prices are fantastic, and who says you can't buy yourself a few gifts for Christmas too? I've been very good this year, and no one knows what I want better than me, right?

So after I've committed my usual sins of selfishness, I sheepishly tiptoe into the apartment, carrying dozens of overstuffed shopping bags. That's when John usually looks over and says, smiling, "Amy--my God! That better not be all for me." Caught dead in my tracks, I say, "Oh, c'mon Honey, you know how much I love to spoil you." Meanwhile, of course my bags are 90% filled with assorted secret gifts for me--from me. It's pretty embarrassing, especially when there are lots of small children and elderly relatives on my list. Don't worry, I realize it's completely wrong; that's why I hide all the packages deep in my closet. But--for full disclosure--here are a few of the items I remember buying myself last year when I was supposedly shopping for loved ones: not one--but two!--new wool coats, a wrap-dress, riding boots, a hat and even a ring. I'm terrible.

Sometimes I even get my secret gifts wrapped with a big red ribbon, but only if it's complimentary. And a few weeks after Christmas, after I've already gotten lots of nice gifts, I have a secret stash of presents to open by myself. I'm sort of like my own "Secret Santa."

There...I've confessed. Judge me as you like. I guess I'm just a selfish monster, end of story.

But this Christmas is going to be different. With this scary economy, there's no way I can splurge on myself like I have in the past. This year, I'm not going to buy anything for myself, period! It's a promise.

JOHN:  Now that you mention it, I remember expecting to get more from you last year. Huh.

Frankly, I don't think what you do is so terrible. You're a shopaholic. Letting a shopaholic walk around New York City at Christmas time is just like inviting an alcoholic to your office Christmas party with an open bar. It's my fault for having us live in "Temptation City."

Speaking of Christmas shopping, I was flipping past Oprah the other day, and on her "Thrifty Holiday Gift Guide" episode, one of her guests, a "gift expert" told viewers to give fabric covered shoeboxes containing a note that lists "15 Reasons Why I Love You." Can you imagine? I realize that times are tough and people should expect less this year; "It's the thought that counts," etc., but I truly believe that most people would prefer a $10 Starbucks card to a hot glue-gunned shoebox with a note in it (no matter how heartfelt!).

So this year I propose the following: Give everyone on your list just the tiniest bit of some luxury they really love. Whether it's a few pieces of fancy chocolate, a pair of cashmere socks, or a Starbucks card, receiving even the smallest amount of a favorite luxury is always satisfying. And it won't break your budget.