A Cut-the-Corners Christmas

Christmas shopping is usually a kind of sweet agony for me. I feel the responsibility of it deeply, the strain and the challenge dominating my waking hours from September onwards, but I also see it as a chance to shine. I approach the operation with a military style campaign which involves weeks of soul searching. It is a combination of extravagance, relationship evaluation, months of exhilarated international retail research, discipline, and finally, slumped exhaustion. I love Christmas. The Christmases of my childhood were spectacular. I felt they were the best thing about me, located in a beautiful Gloucestershire house with a wood and another family of five children whose father owned a toy company. I have always entered eagerly into every aspect of Christmas : the gaudy, the greedy and the holy. I like to choose presents that show I understand the festival itself completely. I like to choose presents that show I understand the recipient in a way no-one else does. I like to choose presents that will take your breath away and make you love me forever.

Yet this year with 70 people on my list and quite an elastic budget my standards seem to have fallen pitifully. I've lost my concentration. I catch myself buying the kind of nice ordinary stuff I would never have considered before. The kind of things other people buy. Why, I even bought a product that has appeared on the side of a bus in a Gap advert. The shame! My wrapping paper isn't original 1950s from an off-the- track haberdashers in Lisbon this year. It's from Woolworths. If you want to know a shocking secret for quite a few people I have actually BOUGHT THE SAME THING.

For all girls aged three and under I have bought either Disney's huge mini mouse tea pot that contains a gorgeous pink tea set OR Disney's tinkabelle outfit which is green and pink and much nicer that any of the other costumes, or a pink and white striped dressing gown from the White Company. For all girls and boys aged three to eight I have bought Badge It , a make your own badge making kit from John Lewis or I am giving Marks and Spencer's build your own remote control robot kit.

For all girls aged eight to fourteen I have bought Gap's red or powder blue corduroy handbag into which I will stow a Hello Kitty candle bought at the Bon Marche. Girls aged 15 to adult I have either bought a set of Chanel make-up brushes or mirror compact, or the Chanel blue jeans eye make up compact or the Estee Lauder gold lizard effect powder compact with mirror. For more fluffy types I have purchased a hot pink mohair blanket from Cologne and Cotton. Wearhouse's pink and silver beaded evening cape or items from Smythson's bubblegum pink leather range will also be making an appearance. For teenage boys I am taking the wildly liberating new step of giving cash.

For women aged twenty five to sixty I have brought Laura Mercier's lip compact which has 8 sheer natural shades and is the perfect present for someone who doesn't wear lipstick but would quite like to, sometimes. Space NK also sells a Nars Tokyo eye shadow compact which is understated, glamorous and easy to wear by all. I have also bulk bought Marks and Spencers pink or minky brown silk slip nightdresses which are a steal at £20 each. Hanro's mercerised cotton nightdresses are also being given by me this year.

A pair of Brora red and white checked lambswool blankets is a good present for sisters as are my two favourite novels of the year The Gift by David Flusfeder and Daughters of Jerusalem by Charlotte Mendelson both of which will also do for men.

For brothers and brothers in law I have purchased jade cashmere socks from Brora or the collected poems of Robert Lowell plus Woolworths reindeer nutcrackers or 12 half bottles of champagne from Berry Brothers or Lynne Truss's excellent new book about punctuation or the new Rod Stewart double album or the Porsche electric kettle.

For my mother I have ordered an ice cream pink Smeg fridge freezer for her new house. My father is getting 8 linen pillowcases. I am buying my husband a new Apple Powerbook and a bottle of whisky. That just leaves four Christmas stockings (husband, daughter, mother, next door neighbour) and I'm all done.

This year I have completed the shopping between other tasks with none of the usual panic or exasperation and virtually no song and dance at all. In fact I barely noticed the entire operation. So why do I feel such a failure?