The Art of ReGifting
                                          by Maggie Van Ostrand
                                        
 
                                           Every time my kids ask what I want for Christmas (or 
birthday or Mother’s Day), I now tell them “nothing.” Last year, I told them 
“Nothing I have to dust,” but that didn’t work and I got a bunch of nice 
presents I have to dust. Thanks, kids. They must get their gift ideas from 
their grandmother, who continued to send me a pair of white gloves every single 
Easter, even though I moved to Los Angeles where nobody wears gloves except the coroner.  
 
Last Mother’s Day, when my son asked what I wanted, I 
described a knee-length, white terry cloth robe with belt. Nothing fancy. I 
just wanted a robe like the one that had literally worn through; small wonder, 
I had it since I was about 18. In fact, there was a robe exactly like the one I 
wanted hanging on the back of his guest bathroom door. I showed it to him. “Get 
me one just like this! This is it!!”  
 
What did I get? I got a robe all right, but it wasn’t 
knee-length it was floor length; it wasn’t white, it was dark blue; it wasn’t 
terry cloth, it was velvet. My son had done it again. He got the robe he 
thought I should have and not the one I wanted.  
 
Even before that, when he and his sister were teenagers 
without much money to spend, they asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I 
said, “A sharp knife to replace the dull one in the kitchen drawer.” I added, 
“If you haven’t got the money, then please take this old-but-good knife to the 
sharpener man who comes to this area every Tuesday.” You probably already 
guessed that I did not ever get either a new knife, or a sharpened old one. 
What they bought me was a juicer. That very same juicer is still in the 
original box, and sitting on the top pantry shelf.  
 
Why should a perfectly good, new juicer go unused? Why 
should a beautiful velvet robe go unworn?Why should a dozen pair of white gloves sit in the drawer and turn 
yellow when there are so many people with cold hands?   
 
That brings me to today’s 
topic: regifting.  
 
Emily Post’s granddaughter, Peggy, says she has no qualms 
about regifting “when done properly” and supplies some regifting tips:  
 
 
  - Keep
 
     quiet about it being a regift.  
  
 
 
 
  - Well,
 
      Ms. Post may advise silence, but she doesn’t know my family. They’d all 
      be right there yelling, “Say, that’s the same thing I gave you last year. 
      How could you give it to somebody else.”  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  - What,
 
      Peggy Post thinks we’d give somebody not only a gift we received before, 
      but one that we’ve worn? Just remind yourself to wash off the dried 
      pieces of potato from that ricer you’re rewrapping.  
 
  
 
 
  - Keep
 
     Track of Who Gave It to You  
  
 
 
 
  - Well,
 
      of course, or you might end up giving the same gift back to the person 
      who gave it to you in the first place. It’s all right to regift 
      surreptitiously, it’s not all right to get caught.  
 
  
 
 
  - Never
 
     Regift Certain Items  
  
 
 
 
  - Peggy
 
      Post is talking about soaps, candles, and popcorn poppers, reasoning that 
      it will be too obvious that it’s something you don’t want and didn’t take 
      the time to actually go shopping. I disagree. As long as the soap doesn’t 
      have the name washed off it, the wick of the candles isn’t blackened with 
      use, and there’s no unpopped corn in the popper, you’re ahead of the 
      game. She does advise you to clean the lipstick off the rim of the 
      glasses you’re regifting.  
 
  
 
Regifting is an art, easily learned using Ms. Post’s tips. 
Or you can take my way out, sometimes called The Coward’s Solution. I just put 
a blue velvet robe, a juicer, and a dozen pair of white gloves on eBay. Just don't tell my kids. 
  
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