Aspirational gift-giving (Part 1)

Have you ever caught yourself buying Lego for your child, even though you know she never plays with it (and you are unlikely to sit down with her long enough to make that space station?) Ever bought an exercise bike or a Tummy Cruncher, never to take them out of the box? Is there perhaps a train set or a table hockey set covered in dust under a bed in your house? Ah! Christmas.

So many of the gifts we give or are given spring from the bottomless well of good intentions. They reflect how we'd like to see ourselves; how we'd like others to see us. And yes, occasionally we find the perfect gift - the gift that would perhaps not be to our own liking - and pass it on lovingly. But to be honest, a shocking number of gifts represent an attempt to transform your nearest and dearest in some way or another.

As all advertisers know, we do not merely purchase objects; we buy notions of self-definition and power - financial or sexual. "Aspirational giving" is all about who we want to be. So with tongue firmly in cheek, here are some suggestions that may drop a few hints - subtle or otherwise - under your tree. And may we offer the following advice: do not encourage designer label dependency among toddlers. They will be teenagers one day.

1

Sort out those little relationship problems with some aspirational giving

`She doesn't understand you'

Invite her to journey to the depths of your soul with an educational package for the complete soccer idiot. Include: one Irish international jersey (Arnott's, £44.99); one "OWT" table soccer game (£29.99, Banba Toymaster); and a copy of Dave Hannigan's funny, passionate and insightful soccer treatise, The Garrison Game: The State of Irish Soccer.

`You want him to do more housework'

If he really loves you, he'll clean the toilet . . . won't he? Okay, so he hasn't yet. Maybe he just doesn't have the right equipment. Give him a classic Alessi flowerpot toilet brush (£38, Foko), and while you're at it, throw in a bottle of Domestos, a packet of Jcloths, some Jif, a mop and bucket and a bottle of Flash.

`Warm up that relationship'

Give a multi-coloured, clear plastic, hot water bottle filled with colourful fish (£14.95 at The Source, Urbana, Temple Bar).

`Try to relax'

Try "Chill Out" incense sticks from Foko (20 with holder for £6.95).

`You want her to rediscover her sex kitten side'

Lingerie, predictable as it is, cannot be underestimated in its power to lift the hard-working woman from the daily grind to a grind with a bump in it. An ultimate lingerie fantasy that will have her swooning with disbelief when she opens the box is a dressing gown in crushed silver and bronze velvet with a fake mink trim on the collar and cuffs designed in Spain by Oh que lune (£550, Susan Hunter). If she dreams of being a 1940s film star, give her a Joan Crawfordstyle, dusty pink velvet, fitted dressing gown with train, also by Oh Que Lune (£345, Susan Hunter).

The powder blue version, with gold braid trim and bow at the back, is truly "to-die-for", which means that it's best imagined on Nicole Kidman (Ms "Visual Viagra" herself) as she breakfasts on mineral water at the Ritz. The dressing gown train really needs a spectacular formal staircase and a leisurely lifestyle to be fully appreciated. It might not work in a busy kitchen filled with children and spilled Rice Krispies, unless you want to be bringing Mum to casualty on Christmas morning.

You might also impress her with an exquisite, plum velvet slip by the Irish designers Rapture (£139.95, Susan Hunter) that can be worn as an evening dress or nightgown. A La Perla boned basque is, of course, the non- pareil - especially in lavender with hand-finished lace (Susan Hunter, £296.95, size up to 38-D). Gucci has some very sexy, Italian siren lingerie (£60£135, Brown Thomas). If your taste runs more towards fun-kinky than classy, then you should go for the tasseled table-dancer look from Agent Provocateur: fringed bra (£35 sterling) and fringe-back briefs (£35 sterling), available by mail order (Agent Provocateur, 16 Pont Street, SW1, 0044-1483-204469). Since these prices may make you dizzy, we feel it a social service and our public duty to inform you that the glam movie star look is available in a polyester satin leopard print nightdress and nightgown from Marks and Spencer (dressing gown £35; nightdress £26).

`You want him to bring you breakfast in bed, as late as possible'

Satisfy his gadget gene with an Alessi "Coban" espresso machine (£395 at Foko). This will keep him busy for a good hour while he figures out the way to the perfect froth, leaving you to dream in peace. Just don't expect him to do any DIY afterwards.

`You want your boss to stop being so, um, bossy . . .'

Caring, feeling, 1999 bosses are inspirational "leaders" in touch with their higher selves; people who know how to nurture workers' creativity and who also offer workplace creches for nominal fees. Okay, so those bosses hardly ever exist. Try subtly influencing your boss with a well-chosen book, even if you have to place it on his or her desk in secret and sign the card "anonymous wellwisher". A good choice would be Wisdom at Work: The Awakening of Consciousness in the Workplace by Let Davidson (Larson Publications, £13.20 at Waterstones). The book explores the link between personal spirituality and work, focusing on such issues as "courageous leadership" and "perennial wisdom and the workplace". Another recommended title is Working with Emotional Intelligence, by Daniel Goleman (Bloomsbury, £19.55 in UK). This practical guide is a sequel to his international bestseller which argued that emotional intelligence is twice as important as your IQ or even your business acumen.

`You want to bring out his inner child . . .'

The "kidults" are so-called "adults" in their 30s and 40s who never gave up their childhood leanings. So stop nagging and give him permission to play. Buy him a Sony Playstation (widely available for about £109). Men's DKNY "combats" (£75, Brown Thomas) may be worn only by the unselfconscious and unreformed kidult. The essential garb for this season's kidult is a Nike "NB2" sweat top and bottoms in cream cotton and black shell material (£115, Marathon Sports). The trend is for mothers to give their men matching father and son "NB2s" (child's version, £72, Marathon Sports). The must-have shoes are the retro "Cortez" 1950s-style sneakers in cream and navy (£55, Marathon Sports). If he's of a musical bent, indulge his teenaged whims with an electric guitar. Especially a Gretch "Country Gent" (£2,500 at Musician) or a Gibson Les Paul Standard Jimmy Page Signature (£2,000 at Musician) and or the ultimate Fender twin amp (£1,049 at Musician). Don't worry if he can't play, he can always pose in front of the mirror.

`You want to get him or her back in shape . . .'

Be cautious. One Dublin sports shop stopped selling a particular brand of jogging machine when they discovered that it wouldn't work on people who had a heart problem. To use the machine, you had to connect yourself to various pulse and heart rate monitors and if the measurements coming back from these gadgets spelled "heart attack", the machine stopped working. You will have no such problems with the most desirable exercise machine of the moment, the Tunturi J66IF foldaway treadmill (£2,150 at Elverys). If brawn, rather than aerobic fitness, is your loved one's aim, wrap up a Weider Homegym (£1,000 at Elverys). But why sweat when you can let the equipment do the work? Try a Slendertone Gymbody for Men (£125 at Brown Thomas) or Slendertone Gymbody for women (£99.95 at Brown Thomas).