Gifts for book lovers, brunch enthusiasts, unapologetic feminists and the friend who is several of these people at once.
Some people are easy to buy for. They tell you exactly what they want, send a link and helpfully specify the colour.
Find your person the perfect gift.
The rest of us say “you don’t need to get me anything” while maintaining a highly specific, entirely uncommunicated wishlist.
Consider this a little assistance.
I’ve pulled together a Christmas gift edit inspired by the people you might find around a Brunch Book Club table: readers with an ambitious bedside pile, brunch lovers with strong feelings about coffee, feminists with plenty to say and maximalists who can always find room for one more excellent object.
There are also a few categories that are fairly transparent exercises in writing my own Christmas list. The red lipstick section, for instance. I am her and she is me.
Buy for a friend, send a pointed link or find something for yourself. You’re allowed to be on the list.
The Book Lover
For the “just one more chapter” friend.
Buying a book for someone who reads a lot can feel surprisingly high stakes. Have they read it? Do they own it? Did they deliver a fairly damning verdict on it at brunch six months ago?
You can scour bestseller lists, peruse the shelves in Waterstones or do a deep dive into their Goodreads “Want to Read”. Although, speaking personally, that list is less a shopping list and more an ambitious work of fiction.
Fortunately, a book lover doesn’t only love books. There’s a whole world of bookish paraphernalia to enjoy: beautiful special editions of a known favourite, bookmarks, notebooks and things that announce our interests before we’ve had a chance to bring them up ourselves. The British Library’s “Bibliophile” sweatshirt should save everyone some time.
For the reader who likes to keep track, the Bibliophile Book Club Journal offers somewhere to record their thoughts before the next book takes over. Particularly useful when you remember being absolutely furious about an ending but can no longer explain why.
Then there are the shelves housing our beloved collections. These Book Club bookends from old faithful Oliver Bonas are both topical and practical. Will they solve the shelving crisis? No. Will they look excellent while I continue putting books on every available surface? Absolutely.
And if you’d like a little something to tuck inside a book, the Relatable Bookmarks from The Spark Company are an excellent finishing touch. We can buy them a bookmark. Whether they stop folding the corners down is between them and their conscience.
“Just one more chapter” was never a reliable estimate.
The Brunch Lover
For the friend who’s already read the menu even if it’s at home.
We aren’t called BRUNCH Book Club for nothing. Avo on toast, shakshuka, piles of pastries and eggs every which way: we know a thing or two about brunch, and so do the brunch lovers in your life. They know what they’re ordering, have a backup choice “just in case” and would like to discuss whether the table needs another bottle. It does. Thank you for opening the discussion.
If you’re not taking them out, give them something that makes brunch at home feel equally worth getting up for. Proper coffee, excellent condiments or tableware that deserves more than a hurried piece of toast. Although a hurried piece of toast on a lovely plate is still an improvement.
Georgia Hearn’s The Brunch Club is an obvious contender for the cookbook shelf. Pair it with coffee from Girls Who Grind and you’ve given them the beginnings of a very good weekend. They’ll have to poach their own eggs, but you can’t do everything.
Who doesn't need an embroidered croissant wall art from Oliver Bonas? Some people buy art because it moves them. I see a beautifully rendered pastry and think, yes, that belongs in my home.
There’s even a patisserie-print makeup bag from The Flat Lay Co., because apparently our enthusiasm for baked goods needn’t stop at the kitchen door. I support this entirely.
We can discuss lunch once we’ve finished breakfast.
The Unapologetic Feminist
For the friend who has a few things to say.
They have a few things to say, the reading to back them up and absolutely no intention of being more agreeable about it.
The best gifts here recognise what they care about: writing that expands the conversation, art they’ll immediately make room for on the walls and useful, beautiful things from smaller businesses they’d be delighted to discover.
A slogan earns its place when it sounds like something they’d actually say. We make no apologies for being feminists around here. Intersectional feminists, of course. If your feminism leaves people out, we have further reading for you.
My personal favourites are the “Fuckit” hoops and “Zero Fucks” necklace from Hoops + Chains LDN. Unsurprising, really. I do enjoy jewellery that can contribute to the conversation without me having to open my mouth.
Pair a little bite with something for the bookshelf: Kate Mosse’s Feminist History for Every Day of the Year for a daily reminder of the women worth knowing about, or Bibliophile: Diverse Spines for the reader looking to broaden their shelves. There’s room for excellent reading material and earrings that swear.
They weren’t asking for permission.
The Maximalist
For the friend whose home has a personality.
They’ve never met a colour they weren’t prepared to introduce to another colour. Their cushions have opinions. You go round for a drink and leave wanting to redecorate.
As someone whose idea of restraint is checking whether the cupboard will physically close, I feel very qualified to advise here. Sometimes more is more. Sometimes there’s room for one more if you move the lamp.
Buying for this friend is a whole heap of fun, you're on the hunt for something distinctive: a sculptural vase, patterned textiles or unusual ceramics with enough presence to hold their own. Useful is welcome. Beautifully unnecessary is also a legitimate category.
The peas-in-a-pod salad servers from Oliver Bonas are exactly the sort of thing I mean. Do salad servers need to look like peas? No. Am I considerably more interested now that they do? Obviously. Add tomato cocktail sticks in a tin and suddenly the vegetables are contributing more to the evening than I am.
For the person who enjoys a conversation piece, Anya Hindmarch’s Pencil Shavings diffuser deserves a mention. A very particular choice of fragrance, but if you’ve ever sharpened a pencil and lingered a little, you’ll understand.
Then there are the Eleanor Bowmer pink-and-green bow tumblers, because even a glass of water can get dressed up. You’re looking for something they’ll spot across the room and immediately start mentally rearranging a shelf for.
It’ll go with something. And if it doesn’t, even better.
The Host
For the hostess with the most opinions.
As a perpetual and unrelenting host myself, there’s nothing that brings me more joy than having loved ones around my table — even if it is a sensory overload and nothing ever goes completely to plan. So there’s something lovely about giving the person who always has everyone round a present they can enjoy at their own table. Preferably while you’re clearing it.
Colourful glassware, excellent napkins and a serving dish worth bringing out all earn their place. Add something delicious they can open that evening or quietly keep for themselves once you’ve all gone home. A gift for the host does not automatically mean a gift for the group.
There’s an art to hosting, but mostly I think you have to do it for the love of the game (read: food) and the people, or you’d go mad. Dawn O’Porter writes about her immense love of food and everything it stands in for, which really resonates with me. You can love, care for and comfort someone through their stomach. Poison them, too, but that’s a different gift guide.
And if you’re putting all that love into feeding people, it seems only fair to give the table something nice to wear. To be honest, you don’t really even need a guide just walk into Oliver Bonas and trust me you’ll find something!
The Homebody
For the friend with excellent cancellation plans.
Their evening is fully booked: clean pyjamas, something good to eat and a book they’ve been looking forward to. It’s officially cosy season. Get the fluffy socks on, put the latest true crime doc on the telly and settle in. We are booked and not busy, and frankly, that’s how I’d like to spend a considerable proportion of the colder months.
Introverts and homebodies, there is no shame in this. You’ve made plans. They just happen to involve absolutely none of us.
Give them something that makes staying in even more appealing: lovely nightwear, a generous blanket or a small bath-time indulgence. The Oliver Bonas quilt in this edit has been in my basket for MONTHS while I hold out until payday. MY GOD, is she flirting with me. I’m trying to be financially responsible and she’s making it personal.
Proper chocolate is always welcome, although let’s not pretend most of us wouldn’t be delighted with a tub of Quality Street, Heroes, Celebrations, Roses or insert festive chocolate of choice. I have room in my life for artisan chocolate and an argument about who ate all the Maltesers Teasers (newsflash: it’s not me, I’m a Bounty babe and I will not be taking questions at this time you Teaser freaks!).
Choose something they’d admire and then decide they couldn’t justify buying for themselves. Ideally, something they can enjoy without getting off the sofa.
Please respect their very busy evening.
The Stationery Lover
For the friend who notices your pen.
You can NEVER have “too much” stationery. If someone in your life has uttered these horrid words, it might be time to have fewer friends. Think of the cupboard space you’d free up for notebooks.
Stationery lovers know their paper weight from their grain and really do need “another” pen. They understand the difference between a good notebook and one someone picked up near the till. They may be saving a particularly beautiful one for an occasion worthy of its first page. I understand. But babe, what if the occasion is simply owning a pen and being able to write? Use it. There’s always room for another notebook when inspiration demands a crisp new first page.
For the typography nerds, there’s Meet the Typographer and the alphabet stamp set, because even your shopping list deserves a considered typeface. And a stationery advent calendar? You deserve it, babe. An entire countdown devoted to stationery sounds entirely reasonable to me.
I’m also obsessed with Martina Calvi’s The Art of Snail Mail, because all that gorgy stationery deserves to leave the drawer occasionally. Write to your loved ones. Send something they’ll actually be pleased to find among the bills.
I’m very lucky: my closest friends have chosen to spawn, and one of their offspring is now my penpal. She’s six. She recently asked me what my favourite food was and whether I’d “EVER” seen Big Ben. You better believe I got the good paper out to write my response. Correspondence of this importance demands it.
So choose a beautiful notebook, a satisfying pen or something lovely to send through the post. Then actually use it. You can buy more. I will support you.
No, you can’t borrow that one.
The Night Owl
For the friend who considers the last train a suggestion.
They’re excellent company at dinner and even better company when someone asks whether you fancy one more.
I am this friend. This friend is me. Listen, while I love a good night’s sleep, there’s something about a night full of possibilities and just “one for the road”. Some of my best stories come from nights when I only went out for “one”. Some of my worst photographs, too, but we don’t need to dwell.
My haggard carcass the following morning is precisely why buying for the night owls among us should include a few essentials. We’re talking brightening concealer for those under eye baggies betraying you. I’m yet to find one I like better than my Kosas concealer. I may not know what time I got home, but neither should my face.
Of course, you could also enable us. Statement earrings, a brilliant evening bag or cocktail glasses worth getting the good drinks out for. The Tatty Devine “Dance & Drink & Screw” necklace certainly makes your intentions clear. Saves explaining them over the music.
Something for the morning after is a thoughtful addition: an eye mask, a little dry shampoo and absolutely no expectation of conversation before midday. We’ll insist we’re fine. Please don’t open the curtains.
“Just the one” remains an opening position.
The Red Lipstick Lover
For the friend whose neutral is red.
Speaking of essentials: the red lipstick. A classic. A staple. Practically a personality trait at this point.
I’ll let you into a secret: if I’m rocking a red lip, there’s a good chance I’m deeply nervous and the whole thing is a façade. War paint, if you will. I might be internally unravelling, but the lipstick suggests I have an excellent handle on proceedings.
There’s something emboldening about a statement red. But finding your red? There’s nothing like it. It’s the one you reach for before a big evening (a new Lisa Eldridge saw me through the amazing collaboration we did with the Radio Times), an important conversation or an otherwise unremarkable Tuesday that could do with a little assistance.
A beautiful lipstick is the obvious starting point. Add a good lipliner, a little shimmer or a lick of eyeliner and you’ve levelled up. Or buy them another red. Yes, it’s different from the ones they already own. They can explain how, at length.
I’ve included some of my favourites alongside a few much-loved classics (hello, Ruby Woo. Loving your work, girl), plus recent additions to my makeup bag that have broadened my collection and deepened my obsession. Hopefully you’ll find your red here, too. I make no apologies to your other lipsticks.
The Organiser
For the friend who’s already sent the calendar invite.
As the eldest daughter of an eldest daughter of an eldest daughter — and a Virgo — this section is personal. Organisation is practically my inheritance (the trauma came for free).
The organisers in your life know when everyone’s free, have the booking confirmation to hand and can produce a charger in circumstances where you’d started accepting your fate and calling it “getting back to nature”. They’ve also checked the menu, the route and whether you need to book. You do. They have.
Give them tools they’ll take pleasure in using: a thoughtfully designed diary, colourful storage, a travel organiser or a label maker. Do not underestimate the joy of a label maker. Some of us have been waiting years to bring that level of authority to the cupboard.
I’m particularly partial to a jewellery case that keeps necklaces untangled and earrings together. Arriving with everything in its designated compartment is a small pleasure, but it’s mine.
Spontaneity is available with sufficient notice.
The Crafter
For the friend who could make that. And probably will.
They’ve got a project on the go, another waiting in a bag and a recently discovered hobby they’d quite like to tell you about. The supplies for that one are already on their way. We needn’t discuss the unfinished projects.
A kit is a lovely introduction to something new, like this MakeBox & Co. × Cath Kidston embroidery kit. For an established and enthusiastic crafter, good tools or materials from their wishlist might be the better gift. There comes a point when “some scissors” becomes “my good scissors”, and everyone in the household needs to respect the distinction.
For fellow sticker lovers, I cannot recommend a Pipsticks subscription highly enough. A regular delivery of stickers through the letterbox? Yes, I am an adult. Yes, this is what I want.
For scrapbookers and junk journallers, the Papier × Anthropologie Scrapbook Pack is another lovely option. You can also check out my favourite sticker books for the person whose love of books extends to cutting them up and sticking bits of them elsewhere.
If you’re unsure, find out what they actually use. The right pair of scissors can inspire a level of gratitude you weren’t expecting. Just don’t borrow them to open the Christmas packaging.
Just needs one more trip to the craft shop.
The Little Extras
Small gifts. Excellent judgement.
For Secret Santa, a stocking or the friend you want to give a little something. Small presents are an opportunity to show you’ve noticed what someone likes. Or noticed that they’ve been eyeing up your chocolate and would benefit from having their own.
A Waterstones gift card is a lovely place to start. Some people think gift cards are impersonal. I think being given permission to wander around a bookshop choosing a present for myself is an excellent afternoon.
For the friend whose coffee order takes a little explaining, there’s the MONIN syrup gift set. For the one who loves a little pampering, a Biodance face mask or the Discover fragrance rollerball duo from M&S. Small enough to tuck into a stocking, useful enough to make it into their regular routine.
Then there are the festive extras: Christmas cracker earrings, Christmas socks and a Christmas tree head bopper. Must every gift have a life beyond December? Absolutely not. Sometimes its purpose is to make someone look ridiculous over lunch, and that is a contribution worth recognising.
Chocolate is, of course, very welcome here. A pouch of Tiny Tony’s for sharing, allegedly, or a Terry’s Chocolate Orange for someone who has no intention of doing so. It’s already divided into segments. That’s quite enough generosity.
Pick something that suits the person, add a little note and you’re there. A small budget can still say “I saw this and thought of you”. Ideally followed by “so I bought you one”, rather than “please send me the money”.
The budget can be modest. The taste remains excellent.
Recognise someone?
Send them their section. Send someone else yours.
And if you’ve recognised yourself in several categories, I understand. This was always going to be a somewhat revealing exercise.
Tell us which one you are and what you’d add to the list.
Taragh x
Founder, Brunch Book Club