Student testimonial

It's not often that teachers get to hear about how they have influenced their students. Even more rare is feedback on workshops or short presentations. Today I receieved a lovely email from someone who was in a workshop I offered over a year ago based on my "Voluntary Simplicity and Anti-consumerism" course. That class was essentially an introduction to the anti-consumption strands in American culture that have co-existed with materialism from the very beginning. It was not a how-to course in voluntary simplicity; it was part history and part cultural studies. But as nearly always with the material I teach, whether gender or consumption related, the discussion often veered to personal experiences and choices. This is what my student wrote:

It changed my life.

I had a series of very hard conversations with my loved ones about how I felt my family’s consumption patterns were actually lowering our quality of life. After a year of research and planning, we purged about 90 percent of our possessions (including almost my entire personal library) in order to move from a 3 br house with full finished basement to a 2 br apartment. The book donations alone were roughly 50 boxes. I feel almost deliriously unburdened.

Sometimes I berate myself for not being more of an activist, not being on the front lines. But working behind the scenes is not the same as standing on the sidelines, is it?

Preemptive downsizing

I am not about to retire, and we don't plan on selling our house for at least 5-10 years. But while everyone else seemed to be lugging new stuff into their homes, we've been dragging things to the curb for pick-up. So far, we've had two charity pick-ups and one Freecycle giveaway in the last three weeks, for a total of probably 40 cubic feet less stuff in the house, and we've acquired less than 5 cubic feet of new stuff. That doesn't count the old papers, calendars, craft supplies and other odds and ends that went out with the recycling or the trash.

Here's how I see it: when we do decide to move to a smaller place, I don't want to find myself trying to reduce our 8 rooms of belongings by half over a few harried months. (Not to mention the basement and garage. Eeek!).

Here's a simple way to start: If you buy something new, get rid of two old things. Or three. For more great ideas, check out Gretchen Rubin's Eight tips for preparing for a real (or virtual) move at The Happiness Project.

My take on Project 333 (minimalist clothing)

Minimalist fashion has fascinated me for most of my adult life, so the idea behind Project 333 -- committing to a 33-piece wardrobe for 3 months was instantly appealing. I made my list and set off to live minimally only to discover I ALREADY AM. The first clue should have been that I had trouble coming up with 33 items; all I had to do was move one pair of jeans and a couple of long-sleeved tees to the bottom drawer, and I was good to go. Instead, I've used the experience as a chance to reflect on the preconditions for minimalism.

1) My existing wardrobe is already designed to be flexible. I buy very few patterned items, choose solid colors that go together, and reply on accessories to jazz up my outfits. Yay, earrings. Boo, having to count them on the list.

2) The project rules exclude underwear from the list of 33 items, which happens to coincide with my own personal philosophy that life is too short for boring undies.

3) The biggest challenge was their choice of dates (October 1- December 31), which in the Washington D.C. area can run the gamut from low 80s to 8" of snow. My "winter" season, (wardrobally speaking) runs from Hallowe'en to St. Patrick's Day.

I would quibble with some of their rules: a bracelet counts, but wedding rings don't? Please! Until we have full marriage equality, I would argue that participants could be allowed one exempt item of jewelry, to accommodate anything worn on a regular basis for symbolic or sentimental reasons. Also, in my world, a purse is not a wardrobe item, it's strictly practical. (Why is purse on the list, and not wallet?) I carry a largish tote to work (papers, books, wallet, lunch) and a smaller bag (wallet, phone, notebook) all other times. If I switched to a shopping bag for everything, would it count or not? Ditto sunglasses. My little clip-on sunglasses are not a fashion item (as my son assures me); I wear them because the light hurts my eyes.

If you like the idea of Project 333, you'll probably enjoy the other posts on the Be More with Less website. Lots of tasty food for thought.

Project 333

I take time from my Pink and Blue writing project (going well, thanks, but but still gobbling my life) to point interested readers to Project 333, an interesting experiment in minimalist fashion. The challenge is living for 3 months with a 33-item wardrobe. I am going to give it a try, and do a few updates here as well. If you are a Facebook user, you can join their page and interact with others.

My money and my life

This week in my "simplicity and anti-consumption" class, we are going to focus on efforts that attempt to address personal economics and what the Nearings called "bread work" -- earning a living. Many of these stories overlap with other dimensions of the simple life and anti-consumption, but the main theme is the management of time and energy. I have posted a few resources on the course's companion site, Thoreau's America. These are my own musings on personal economics and simplicity.

From the time I left for college until I finished graduate school at 31, I lived a frugal life by necessity. As a scholarship student who worked part-time and summers to pay for room, board and books, the wife of a graduate student and then a graduate student myself, my skills in making do were finely honed. Spring break trips as an undergraduate? Unheard of. Joining a sorority? Not in the cards. We drove cheap cars we serviced ourselves, and vacations were spent either visiting family and friends, or camping.

When I finished my PhD in 1980, suddenly we had two full adult incomes for the first time in our 10-year marriage. It was a considerable shock; we literally had no idea how to spend the additional money. We booked a weekend at a B&B for our anniversary, subscribed to a few more magazines and went to more concerts. The next thirty years brought a daughter, a house and then a son -- and everything that comes with kids and home-ownership in middle-class America. It also brought recessions, job loss and financial insecurity, despite my steady income as a tenured professor. We've tried to spend wisely and save for college, retirement and emergencies, and for the most part have kept our debt under control. I believe that it is impossible to discuss "the simple life" in America today without including the role of consumer debt.

To live simply in America today means to balance work and leisure, consumption and production, income and expenditure (and debt) in a complex, dynamic society. The act of "balancing" is not the same as being motionless. Try standing on one foot and you can feel the muscles in your body make tiny, continuous adjustments to help you maintain that position. My life is like that: I monitor accounts, plan my time and reflect on my current state of mind and body in order to stay in balance, to the best of my ability.

To be honest, I am never completely in balance, but always having to correct and compensate for the imbalances in my life. Financially, that means making sure I pay my savings account first, to make sure I have funds for inevitable emergencies. I plan my work, to the extent I can, to leave time every day for pause and evaluation. My weekly schedule often includes a "walkabout", an unplanned day when I ride public transportation, visit a park or read at the local library. I am especially cautious about trading time and energy for money (agreeing to a paid speaking engagement or extra teaching) or trading money (which represents my time and energy) for very expensive things. No handbag is worth a week of my hard work, but I willingly exchange the same amount for a vacation with my family.

(In)voluntary Simplicity

One of the critiques of voluntary simplicity is that it is a choice made possible by privilege. What, after all,is the difference between frugality and poverty? Most readers of Walden know that Thoreau didn't really abandon civilization and live a life of deprivation. His friends provided society and occasional dinners and his mother did his laundry. He could essentially chose his level of poverty and abandon it whenever it was convenient.

My class happens to be reading and discussing Walden just as our furnace has died. A replacement arrives on Tuesday, but in the meantime the forecast is for daytime temperatures in the 20s and 30s. The indoor temperature is inching down, and I have no idea how cold the house could get. If we were wealthy, we'd board the dog and check into a nice hotel or bed and breakfast for the duration. But we are not, and a furnace already costs plenty; adding another $1000 to the tab is not possible.

So instead, I get to experience a few days of involuntary simplicity. Fortunately, we have a gas fireplace in the living room, a window unit heat pump in the family room and I plan to do a lot of baking and roasting in the oven. I am also a big fan of layers and long underwear, and my husband never gets cold. It remains to be seen whether or not this experience will encourage a more spiritual outlook, or a sense of living more deliberately. And no, Mr. Thoreau, I do not plan to pass the time felling trees.

Spring course: Simplicity and Anti-consumption in American Life

It's only October and barely fall, but I am working on my new spring course on Simplicity and Anti-consumption in American Life. The Craft and Production course is going well, considering attendance has been cut by a third for the few weeks and yesterday was even worse (5 students out of 11 showed up!). The size of the class is a bit disappointing, but that's probably a function of the prerequisite and the craziness of all the AMST upper level being offered at the same time. Here's my pitch for the spring course:

AMST498C Consumer Culture: Simplicity and Anti-consumption in American Life (Spring 2010 W 4:00pm- 6:40pm)
Prerequisite: AMST201 AND either AMST203 or AMST205.

American Studies scholars have argued that consumer culture has eclipsed civic culture in its importance in American life.  This argument maintains that we define ourselves as Americans by what we consume; even the iconic American Dream is often expressed in terms of possessions. In AMST201 and AMS203 or AMST205 you have probably been exposed to texts or conducted research about advertising, marketing, consumer-identity, branding, and other aspects of consumption. In AMST 498C we will examine another strand in this narrative: the efforts, movements and trends that resist or oppose excessive consumption. Sometimes these impulses spring from necessity (the Great Depression, wartime) but often they are rooted in convictions about the moral peril of personal wealth or about environmental sustainability. We will consider historical evidence (Puritan sumptuary laws, Utopian communities, 60s communes) as well as recent trends such as frugality and Voluntary Simplicity.

I am considering offering it publicly via iTunesU, just in case the actual student count is anemic.

Update (response to a student query):

Working list of texts -
The Simple Life: Plain Living and High Thinking in American Culture (David Shi)
The Machine in the Garden (Leo Marx) (maybe... it's an American Studies classic)
The Good Life (Scott Nearing)
one of the many recent books on Voluntary Simplicity (or I may offer a choice on this one...)
selections from Theory of the Leisure Class (Thorstein Veblen) and Walden (Henry David Thoreau)
We'll also be viewing some excellent documentaries (such as Afluenza), blogs and websites (Center for the New American Dream, Adbusters)

As for format, with 2 hours and 40 minutes to fill, I am thinking about 1/3 lecture, 1/3 discussion, 1/3 other (viewing, student sharing).

Icebox to zero; the cycle begins again

Early spring is an interesting time in my kitchen. The freezer is giving up the last of last year's harvest -- okra and pureed squash (not together, heavens no!). The garden is just beginning to produce (thinnings of lettuce and spinach). If it ever stops raining here in Maryland I will be adding some tomatoes, squash and eggplant to the mix. And, joy of joys, our local farmers markets are open again and brimming with tasty fresh veggies.

We are not complete locavores, but I do have a working philosophy. In the winter, we eat what we've frozen), augmented by non-local varieties: bananas, oranges, avocados. I do try to select fruits and vegetables which have traveled the shortest distance (Georgia, not Chili), and wish there was a little "train" sticker to show me which have come at least halfway by rail. But for things I can get locally in season, I wait. There really is something special about enjoying strawberries, corn and peaches during that brief time when they are really fresh and ripe. For now, butternut bisque and spring greens. Soon, strawberry rhubarb pie. Worth waiting for!

My academic side: teaching a new course on craft and production

I've been blogging here as a side interest, while a book project gets most of my attention. (It's related to ethical fashion on the gender vs. gender-free side of things, being about pink and blue and all that.) It's been a real luxury being on sabbatical; time is everyone's most precious commodity, and I was willing to go on half salary in return for a full year to research, think and write. (also knit, cook and take afternoon naps) With just under six months before I am back in the classroom, I now have my teaching schedule and and trying hard not to get too excited, lest the book slip to the back burner. Fortunately, next year's courses include two new courses which will be making frequent appearances in this blog.

Advanced Material Culture: Craft and Production (Fall 2009). Most material culture literature and teaching these days seem to emphasize either object analysis or consumer culture, as opposed to the production of objects and the relationship between maker and artifact. Given the interest in DIY (including gardening, knitting, furniture hacking, and all forms of cookery) and my own lifelong fascination with how things are made, this seemed to be a great, fresh angle to pursue. I am looking for good readings, but want the course to be very hands-on, not text-heavy.

Consumer Culture: Simplicity and Anti-consumption in American Life (Spring 2010). This is a course I've been imagining ever since I migrated from textiles to American Studies. Consumer culture literature and courses tend to focus on advertising, marketing, consumer-identity/branding aspects of purchasing behavior, but American culture has always included movements which resist or oppose excessive consumption. David Shi's The Simple Life: Plain Living and High Thinking in American Culturewill provide the historical perspective.

I'll be posting about both courses here as they progress.

Recession Chic

Kelly Marages has a terrific piece in the Sunday Washington Post about how newsfolk have covered the impact of the recession on fashion and lifestyle choices. Like me, Kelly seems to have been raised frugally in the unselfconscious middle class manner. There are two ramifications of this upbringing. First, it is possible to feel insanely hedonistic doing something wealthy people do so routinely they no longer enjoy it. Because I eat leftovers nearly everyday (because I make lots of food whenever I cook), having a meal in a restaurant is an exquisite, self-indulgent experience. Second, while frugally-raised people are certainly capable of spending money in flush times, it's never been that hard to dial back on expenditures. I already know nearly all of the advice being offered by magazines and newsletters, and I can save a ton of money not buying them to read articles I could have written.

Marages' article raises some wonderful points about the new "recessionistas". There's the silliness of dresses and shoes being "a steal" at under $150. The breathless discovery that inexpensive cuts of meat and in-season vegetables, cooked slowly, make a great low-cost, nutritious meal. (Not to mention fabulous leftovers!) My favorite, the place in the article where I choked on my coffee:

The advice doesn't stop there. We've been told to go shopping in our closets. Cute -- but what does it mean? That I should take a shirt and pair it with some pants or a skirt that I haven't already matched it to? Call me crazy, but isn't that just called getting dressed?

I don't deny that there are some people out there who didn't have the advantage of a frugal upbringing, and who are looking for ways to economize. For them, some of this information is not only fresh and new, but necessary. As a mom, I do hope that my kids picked up some of these habits at home. If they didn't, it's probably my fault.

"Tightwad Gazette" author's take on the recession

One of the prime movers in the frugality movement of the 1990s was Amy Dacyczyn (pronounced sort of like "decision"), whose "Tightwad Gazette" newsletter inspired people all across the country to seek ways to live better for less. The Ann Arbor Business Review interviewed her at her home in Maine, where she still lives by her frugal principles, and it's an interesting read.

I don't agree with Dacyczn on every point, but -- as she points out -- neither of us is an economist. She faults people who took the subprime mortgage bait more than I would, and she thinks employees of the Big Three automakers are overpaid (she seems unaware the health care and legacy pension benefits parts of the equation).

Dacyczyn and I are just ordinary citizens -- sister Nice White Ladies, if you will -- who are trying to do the right thing for ourselves and our families, to live by our values. I agree with her that ""what's best for the economy is that every individual and individual family unit is in the best financial health possible" and I share her concern that too much self-sufficiency might not be "good for the economy at large", when that economy depends so heavily on consumer spending beyond necessity.

In the end, my primary concerns continue to be my own household's well-being and our impact on the planet, rather than on the economy. If I had much more money, I would probably not own more things, but better things and more locally-made things. Old Navy and Macy's should probably not count on me to help their bottom line.

Forbes takes on "America's New Frugality"

There an interesting article on Forbes.com this morning about how changes in consumer spending might alter the investment picture. (Hint: Amazon.com is doing well, but may not be a great investment, as opposed to savings and loan institutions.) Right in the middle is a list of trade-offs consumers are likely to make as they reduce their use of credit and live more frugally:

• Playing sports rather than attending sporting events;
• Discount retailers rather than high-end retailers;
• Lower- and mid-priced restaurants instead of high-end restaurants;
• Eating at home instead of eating out;
• Going on a picnic instead of eating out;
• Watching movies at home instead of going to the movies;
• Reading a book instead of going to the movies;;
• Fixing my car instead of buying a new one;
• Fixing up my house instead of moving;
• Playing games or watching TV instead of going out;
• Clipping coupons when I shop;
• Shopping more for sale items;
• Buying generic or store brands instead of name brands;
• Buying used stuff instead of new stuff;
• Selling stuff I no longer need;
• Drinking water instead of soda;
• Negotiated rates on hotel and travel, vs. full price,
• Free online news and information instead of magazines, newspapers, etc.

I am struck by how many of these choices are not only better for the pocketbook, but also potentially greener and healthier as well.

Is trading down to cheaper clothes a good strategy in a recession? yes and no

The Associate Press reports the results of a report by the International Council of Shopping Centers-Goldman Sachs that suggests that people have not reduced their clothing spending by as much as expected, and seem to instead be "trading down", buying cheaper clothing, not less clothing. Here's the part that caught my eye:

Life isn't too rosy for the nation's apparel retailers. On average,
sales at nearly a dozen apparel companies fell 12.1 percent in January.
Hardest hit was Gap Inc., which saw same-store sales plummet 23
percent. At the San Francisco-based chain's Old Navy stores, comparable
sales fell 34 percent. Sales fell 16 percent at women's clothing chain
Cache Inc.

The month was grim for teen- and youth-oriented chains
and department stores, too. Abercrombie & Fitch Co. said sales
skidded 20 percent, although the figure wasn't as bad as experts had
expected. Conversely, analysts expected sales would dip just 2 percent
at Children Place Retail Stores Inc., thanks to parents who were
expected to continue to buy clothing for their kids, even if they
wouldn't buy for themselves.

Experts were wrong. Sales there fell 11 percent.

It appears that consumers are buying their kids' clothes at discount stores or sale prices. This makes good sense, considering that children outgrow their clothes faster than they wear them out. Before today's strongly gendered styles, expensive clothing such as winter coats could be purchased in tailored styles and neutral colors and handed down to several children. (Boomer readers may remember a double-breasted navy wool coat worn by several siblings, male and female.)

For their own clothing, adult shoppers are buying less and being pickier, which is a different strategy, but just as smart. I've seen scads of last year's fashion darlings on the clearance racks (I'm looking at you, cropped jacket with the 2" buttons) and no price would be low enough to tempt me. I have bought two fleece turtlenecks (new, on sale), a cashmere polo (thrift store), a pair of snow boots (discount outlet) and some replacement socks and undies. That's going to be it for my new winter items, and I'm fine with that. Sorry, Macy's.

Frugal trend: buying second hand

Just over a year ago, I was interviewed by a New York Times business reporter for an article might do on ethical fashion. She decided (about two minutes into the interview) that there was "no story here" but asked me what trends might be worth watching. I suggested the second hand clothing market (swapping, eBay, thrifting, refashioning) and she pretty much said the idea was ridiculous.

The Orlando (FL) Sentinel ran a story today about surviving the recession by not buying new, but considering second hand. According to the author, Linda Shrieves

"The National Association of Resale & Thrift Shops surveyed its
members recently and found that, in September and October, sales were
up an average of 35 percent from previous years."

Sounds like a trend to me...

Frugality in the Face of Less

Unity Marketing released a survey of luxury spending by wealthy consumers yesterday, and the results are not really surprising. In the last quarter of 2008, these consumers (average yearly income just under $200,000) reduced their luxury spending (which includes "luxury fashion accessories, kitchenware, electronics and upscale home furnishings") by 6.4%. Clothing retailers, in general, are facing a tough consumer environment for at least the first three quarters of 2009. Ironically, one of the impediments may be the deep discounts they offered during the holiday season; getting people to pay full price after all those 75% off bargains may be tricky. Several of the articles I have read speculate that this new frugality may be permanent, and in my case, they might be right.

Right now, my financial situation -- a full year sabbatical at half pay -- is enforcing serious frugality. Although I have a wish list of purchases for when my income returns to normal (mostly electronics), I am also looking at retirement within 5-10 years. So if economists are looking for me -- and near-retirement Baby Boomers like me -- to help the retail picture in 2009 and beyond, they're going to be disappointed. These days, my discretionary dollars go to supporting my local yarn shop, my local brew pub, my church and Amtrak. It feels like I have a lifetime supply of clothing, and most of what I see in the stores is not very tempting. I wonder, is this an age thing, a class thing or something bigger?

Black Belt Minimal Fashion: the Suitcase Wardrobe

I am currently on a research/writing trip which has taken me from my home near Washington, D.C. to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, Bedford Hills and Rochester New York and eventually to my brother's home near North Bay, Ontario. Today I leave for Indianapolis, by way of Chicago. Most of the travel has been done by train, and I will have had convenient (i.e., free) access to laundry facilities twice along the way. It's an interesting way to explore minimalist fashion, and it's time to report on the experience so far.

1) Minimalist fashion is climate-dependent. What is considered "minimal" in southern California would be inadequate in North Bay in January.

2) Minimalist fashion is activity-dependent. I have been indoors and sedentary most of the time, and have managed to avoid anything resembling formal events.

3) Context (climate and activity) aside, a successful minimal wardrobe provides comfort, utility and satisfaction. This means pieces that layer, serve multiple uses and meet the wearer's need for tactile and aesthetic satisfaction. Pockets, too!

4) It is possible to wear many items more than one day without being noticed, especially when traveling.

My suitcase wardrobe for this trip (26 days) consisted of three pairs of pants (1 jeans, 2 corduroys), 7 tops (ranging from a tissue-weight T-shirt to a pair of fleece pullovers), 7 days' worth of socks and undies, flannel pajama bottoms, a set of silk long underwear, a lightweight robe, two pair of shoes and pair of slipper socks. I also have a warm coat, hat, scarf, mittens and boots -- it was in the mid -20s today in North Bay. I could probably have eliminated one pair of corduroys, the robe and one pair of shoes, but that wouldn't have saved my enough room to be able to use the next smallest suitcase. I also wish my tops were more varied in color or texture; this fashion minimalist likes some aesthetic stimulation! But I did bring along a selection of my favorite earrings just to jazz things up. My favorite travel item so far has been the silk underwear (turtleneck and leggings) -- they are the best way to address the temperature difference between Rochester, NY and North Bay, ON without adding bulk to your body or weight to your luggage.

Conscious Consumption, Christmas edition #4 -- Fair Trade

If fair trade consumption is a priority for you, the options for ethical gift-shopping have been multiplying. Much as I love making things, I can't always spare the time to make all my gifts. (Besides, my friends and family can only use so many mittens, socks and scarves.) The next best thing, for me, is to support local craftspeople or entrepreneurs in developing countries whose work is fair trade. (By fair trade, I mean fairly-paid, clean and dignified work.) Some of my favorite gifts have been either local products (soaps, bath salts, a lovely hand-woven scarf) or imported fair-trade items (recycled paper earrings from Ten ThousandVillages -- a gift to myself!!!).
As promised, here are a few links to get you started:

Alternative Gift Fairs (Washington, DC area)
WorldofGood.com by eBay
Ten Thousand Villages
SERRV international
Etsy

Sometimes these are bargains (those $10 earrings!), but often they cost more than mass-produced items, as they should!

Conscious Consumption, Christmas edition #3 -- Buy Local

If you shop at a farmer's market or belong to a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), you know the benefits of buying local. Not only can you support small, local businesses, but you often have access to unique products. When you are planning your holiday gift-gifting and celebrations, think local as well. Support your local yarn shop, or independent book store. Look for craft fairs that feature artisans from your area. Give gift certificates for performances by local arts organizations. For years, I've done at least part of my holiday shopping at a craft fair sponsored by my university. I bought some of my most cherished ornaments from a vendor there, one of my former students. Beats mass-produced from Hallmark, any day!

Conscious Consumption, Christmas edition #2 -- It really is the thought that counts!

The best present I ever gave my dad cost me less than a dollar in 1964. It was a tough Christmas. We didn't even have a tree that year, so my mother and I made one with string and our holiday cards. For my dad, who was the sort of person who bought what he needed and hated practical presents, I hit upon what turned out to be sheer genius. There was a picture my mom had taken of him, my brother and I, when we were on vacation in Colorado. We were standing together on a riverbank, all looking relaxed and a little tired. It was a black and white photo, but he was clearly wearing his favorite bright green cardigan sweater (the one he was eventually laid out in in 1994). My brother and I were on either side of him, sagging against his legs, and his hands were resting lightly on our shoulders. No one was looking at the camera or saying "cheese". My eyes are closed and my face was turned up towards my father, almost as if I were purring. It's a beautiful photo, and a rare one, because Dad was usually on the other side of the camera.

I took the photo to the local camera shop and had them enlarge it to 8 1/2 by 11, then put it in a frame from Woolworth's. He was speechless, and little teary-eyed.

Principle: Gift-giving is about expressing love and connection. One great way to do that is to rescue something truly precious from the box of jumbled keepsakes and souvenirs and let it speak.

Conscious Consumption, Christmas edition #1 -- Giving what people need.

My life has been very busy since I wrote the precursor to this series, and my mind has been full of ideas for posts. I've decided to go very personal with this, since there are so many great sites out there about simplifying the holidays. No Impact Man Colin Beavan's great article, which inspired this series, is a good place to start, and I will share others as we go. But I decided that what will work for me is sharing my own favorite Christmas memories and best gift experiences and use them to discuss underlying principles. (Oh, how pedantic! But that's what you get from a professor!)

My family was never well-off, but my mother was a great manager, so as kids we really didn't notice. I am sure economics lurked beneath one of my favorite traditions: pajamas. Instead of getting new pj's when it got cold (in Nebraska, that would be early October), we got ours on Christmas eve. It seems rather comical now,like something out of "A Christmas Story". We always opened all of our presents -- except the pajamas -- on Christmas morning. Christmas eve was reserved for reading the St. Luke version of the Nativity and attending a candlelight service at our church, often with my father singing "O Holy Night" in his beautiful tenor voice. When we got home, the silliness began: we would beg and wheedle for "just one present" to open, knowing very well what was in them. Wow! Brand new pajamas! Then we would put them on and head off to the coziest sleep ever. In the morning, we would all be splendid in our new finery, adding to the specialness of the event.

Principle #1: Necessities can be wonderful gifts. In fact, receiving them as gifts can make them special. My brother-in-law used to get several pair of black socks from his wife every year, which was obviously a well-loved inside joke. I used to buy my mother things she needed, but get nicer or prettier items than she would have bought for herself. In tough economic times, if you can only afford necessities, put them in the spotlight.

Caveat: Giving necessities can be tricky, so you need to know your giftee. This is not a great option for adults who enjoy shopping and who prefer to pick their own socks or pajamas. It is also not a license to get people things YOU think they need (example: the anti-frizz hair products my mother used to put in my stocking). It does work for the people who consistently minimize their own needs, and for kids at the stage when anything in wrapping paper is a present, and if they get to open it early, it's a bonus.