the white noisemaker gift guide

my turn to pretend to be The Strategist

a massive mylar throw-pillow-sized bag of dried nettles
Dried nettles are like green juice for people who don’t want to pay $15 for green juice. I mean, it isn’t a 1:1 green juice replacement in terms of vitamins (although it does have some vitamin K and C). But the mineral content! You will be amazed. Iron, calcium, potassium, zinc—it’s all in there. One summer, I was really into nettles—I drank about 1L of iced nettle tea every day for a while. And during that time, my hair grew so fast that my hair stylist was like what is happening to you??! Actually, it kind of created a problem because this was during my platinum blonde era, and as all good bottle blondies know, you can only go so long between touch-ups because otherwise. the colorist can’t bleach your roots uniformly.

You could always get someone a cute lil bag of nettle tea with some boutique hand-drawn label, but I think it’s way more impressive to get them a whole pound of it, which comes in a 12” x 12” mylar bag like a space throw pillow.

a year’s supply of toilet paper
OK, hear me out: they need to get toilet paper anyway, right?

This type of gift only works on a very particular type of person: Capricorns. (Just kidding.)

I mean, it takes a particular sense of humor to enjoy a year’s worth of coffee or toilet paper or something similar—because not everyone will see that this is a gift of time and convenience, a gesture thought ahead to the week when everything is happening and you have to call the insurance company a million times about something and the pilot light keeps going out, and in any other world you might also have to wipe your ass with a paper towel because you have so much going on that minor executive function tasks fall from your awareness. Everyone knows that’s the week you run out of toilet paper. Wouldn’t it be nice if a friend foresaw this need and took care of it for you?

Photo by FÍA YANG on Unsplash

a real-deal throwback playlist
This is a gift for old friends only: Make them a playlist of all the hits (and misses) from a particular time you shared. Yes, anybody can pull up an early 2000s playlist on Spotify, but only you and your friend know that you were all extremely obsessed with T.Rex that one year. Or that you evolved an inside joke of immediately playing that Misfits song “Skulls” on the jukebox at the Squirrel Cage (#2022) every time you went there, and eventually nobody remembered how that tradition started. Or that you randomly got tickets to see the Rolling Stones through a friend’s uncle and the big song of the night was, without a doubt, “Honky Tonk Woman.” And of course, if you’re lucky, you’ll also be able to find an EP or two from the indie band you used to see at the Chatham coffee house, which fizzled out within a year.

The rarer the song, the better it is for this purpose. If it’s rare, it’s been in a cryogenic chamber along with all of your old memories and associations, and they’re all in mint condition. It has not been used in a million Apple commercials or film soundtracks. The same way that memories can get stretched out from repeat recollection, songs can lose the precision of their time-place coordinates. And there’s nothing wrong with that! It just doesn’t make for the best throwback mix.

The trick with this gift is, above all else, you must not try to make it cool. Some songs hold up a decade or two later or gain a cultural appreciation they didn’t have at the time: We do not care about those. We’re not trying to have a hip time here. In fact, this playlist will only be improved by the one-hit wonders and total head scratchers you put on it. You have to put “Blurred Lines” on the playlist is what I’m saying. Not because you’re endorsing Robin Thicke, but because that was the song that was playing everywhere nonstop the summer you were on tour together, and you had to listen to it in every single gas station, and the “hey hey hey” thing became a joke that could make you totally lose it out of context. You have to put “I Love You Always Forever” on the playlist because they played it before Channel One and the morning announcements, and when you hear it, you can feel the scratchy acrylic Delia’s sweater with rainbow stripes across the chest. I do not give a shit whether you like Trisha Yearwood or not—if your school bus driver had a Con Air soundtrack tape that he played on repeat, it goes. In. The. Mix.

eloi bandaną
I don’t remember how I found eloi … I think I must have been looking for people who make cut-paper patterns on Instagram? Although I don’t remember why I was doing that, either. But regardless. All of Paige’s designs are made from hand-cut paper, so they have those intense, opaque lines and the minor textures and imperfections of something handmade, which I think is a great combination. There are wild blobby designs and straightforward tartans and western looks, so you’re covered for a number of aesthetics.

homemade tea blend + infuser
This is easy: 1) Go to your nearest food co-op, the kind that has a massive bulk section of herbs and spices 2) get some herbs and spices 3) put them together in a glass jar and cover it with those star stickers from the office supply store 4) give it to your friend. Am I glossing over like, everything that is known about herbalism? Why yes I am. But also, for the most part, smushing together some red clover, peppermint, nettle, and licorice root is going to be A-OK. Or some calendula, hibiscus, and rose hips. Or whatever. Not medical advice consult your doctor yadda yadda. But also, it’s easy and nice.

homemade hot chocco or golden milk mix + handheld frother
Also easy: Get some spices from Costco—they usually have granulated ginger, turmeric, pepper, and cinnamon, so you’re set for golden milk. They typically also have cacao powder and coconut sugar. If you want to level it up, add a handheld drink frother. For the longest time, I refused to buy myself one because it seemed frivolous. How mean of me! It’s actually very nice, especially if you’re a bit lazy but enjoy matcha. You know how sometimes you tell yourself that a $10 thing is extravagant and unnecessary and a sign of the end times because there are too many gadgets and everything’s disposable and it all sucks … and then you get one anyway and it turns out to be a very nice thing you enjoy every day?

homemade body oil
As above, this is easy: 1) Get some Boston bottles (blue or brown, both v. nice). You can find them pretty easily online. 2) Get some kind of carrier oil. Avocado, jojoba, sweet almond, argan, they all have their benefits. Basic googling will help you decide. 3) Get some essential oils. Unending variations of these, of course. But you can always look up the ingredients in your favorite perfume and try to duplicate them, or be medicinal about it. (Again, am I glossing over all received wisdom about essential oils and their healing properties? Why yes.) Oud is good. Guiac is also good. Idk, you know about these. 4) Mix some essential oils in your carrier oils. Again, basic googling will help you decide how much. (It’s not much—pure essential oils all over your skin is a bad idea.) 5) If you’re feeling SO PERKY you can also infuse botanicals directly into your carrier oil and then strain them. But if you’re like that, I doubt you’re reading this lazily assembled gift guide. 6) Put some star stickers from the office supply store on the bottle and give it to your friend.

play-doh
Somebody gave me a miniature tub of Play-doh as a gift randomly a few years ago, and I was shocked how much fun it was to just smell it and feel the texture. A weird, fun memory.

de soi nonalcoholic aperitif
For the nondrinker in your life (me), a sophisticated and interesting nonalcoholic botanical beverage is a wonderful thing. Just because you don’t drink booze anymore doesn’t mean you want Diet Coke and La Croix for the rest of your life! “Sophisticated” and “interesting” are euphemisms. What I mean is “bitter” and “tastes like dirt,” but in a good way. (I realize I might not be selling you on this, but I don’t have to because you’re getting it for me, obviously.) Also, NB, some people who don’t drink find things like this to be kind of weird. I stayed away from anything that reminded me too much of the taste of alcohol for quite awhile (as in, many years). But now my associations are more neutral, and I find that I really love an interesting-tasting drink.

gift a movie via iTunes
This is a nice remote gift … by which I mean it’s nice if you’re like oh shit I forgot to get something for this person and now it’s too late to ship anything to them. I mean, not that I think any of us have to be that devoted to holidays as deadlines. But I still feel the pressure regardless, and maybe you do too. Also, a movie (or entire TV show) is a kind of unexpected and possibly very useful gift, especially if you know what movie someone returns to over and over again for the sake of comfort.

impossible signed books
By “impossible” I mean that they’re “signed” by the author, with a deeply personalized and possibly funny/insulting/tender inscription … but the author is like, a dead person. Like Mark Twain. And the book is from a thrift store. Once, somebody gave me a signed copy of Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer and it was like: Dear Sarah, you’re really cute. Love, Walker Percy. Marvelous, A+ gift, and an excellent use of the thrift store.

The Book of Symbols (Taschen)
I mean, you could give me a Taschen book of aerial photographs of malls and I would dig it. But The Book of Symbols is really pretty neat. It’s an encyclopedia of imagery types. Color, smoke, dew, blood—you can read glosses on the themes common to all of these symbolic types, and many, many more.

Fly By Jing Sichuan chili crisp
You don’t have to be good at cooking anymore! You just have to put chili crisp on your food. People will go Wow, you made this? And you’ll nod, even though by “made” you just heated up a scallion pancake from H-Mart or stir-fried some mushrooms and scallions and kale … and doused them in chili crisp. I know this makes a fantastic gift because it was gifted to me by dear, wise friends who share my crusade for the finding of delicious things, and I have to say, sharing a delicious thing is a great gift because it brings a lasting, episodic pleasure that stretches out over time. Fly By Jing is, as you can see, an expertly branded take on a pantry staple that has existed long before instagram, so you can obviously also give people wonderful chili crisp oils that are less expensive, but I’ve tried many and this one really, honestly is worth it. And you’ll probably enjoy experiencing it on lots of different foods. Last week I covered an explodingly ripe persimmon in chili crisp and I felt very clever. Chili crisp on vegan chicken nuggets is A+++. Ice cream! Olives! It goes on.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art birthday book (1977)
A birthday book is basically a sort of calendar ledger where you keep track of your friends’ birthdays. I know Facebook helped us all out with this one for a few years, but now we hate it. So. There are lots of birthday books, of course, including a currently produced version from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is also very nice, but you should get the 1977 version because that’s what my mom had, and I spent hours and hours and hours going through this book from front to back, associating why they chose these paintings to go with those dates, and it was great. (And look at how beautiful it is!) You can find it on eBay and Etsy pretty easily, for about $10.

Taylor & Ng Le Chat mug
There’s a certain parental subculture—Annie Hall? Russian novels on cassette tape from the library? hanging wire baskets overflowing with garlic? linen jackets long before it was trendy? a wooden shadow box full of Red Rose Tea animal figurines and ERA NOW pins? Picasso monographs? Moosewood Cookbook?—and these mugs. Le Chat is only one of many. There’s also Le Canard, Le Chien, Le Tareaux. Why did all the parents have these?

perfume decants
One of my favorite things about perfume is that it is a luxury item whose luxury is not diminished whatsoever by quantity. A tiny amount of My Love Has the Color of the Night smells exactly like the full-size version. In fact, I would almost say that the artificial scarcity of having a very tiny and precious amount of something is maybe a tiny bit better than having a whole bottle. (Which is why I suggest, if you ever feel a bit down, going to Sephora and getting a handful of samples. Possibility!) (Bless the people at Sephora on Walnut Street who pretended not to notice that I always came in and was like … Prada Amber, is this good? Can I have a sample? For years.)

So, in case you didn’t know: You can buy a minimal quantity of just about any perfume as a “decant,” which is exactly what it sounds like: Someone buys the full-size version, then metes out whatever amount you’re buying into a little sampler. Which is exactly like going to Sephora or a department store counter for a sample, except you can typically find things that aren’t so widely available, including vintage perfumes that aren’t in production anymore.

Perfume is a very personal thing, of course, so this is the kind of gift I wouldn’t recommend unless you know exactly what someone likes. (Me: wood, oud, amber, dirt.) But if you know that somebody loves an out-of-production fragrance or you know that they would love to try every Commes des Garcons fragrance but live in a place where that’s not so simply done, this is a great option.

Marilou Is Everywhere, by yours truly
Here is a list of people who might like this book: People who have lived in Greene County, PA. (Or northern Appalachia in general.) People whose parents were back-to-the-landers. People who like goats. People who have a dark sense of humor but also give good hugs. People who like books that start in one genre and cleverly move into another. People who are looking for a “literary page-turner.” People I went to high school with who want to see if I put them in it. People who like to cry. People who 1) are teenagers 2) were teenagers 3) like teenage narrators. People who won’t be too broken up to realize that the title is a kind of metaphor and Marilou isn’t like, a real person in the book. People who have ever asked themselves, why does everyone say I have to love myself, and what’s so bad about it if I don’t? The book answers this question.

By the way—if you’re thinking of giving Marilou as a gift, I would be more than happy to sign a bookplate and mail it to you. Really! Just ask.

cashmere
The rest of this list has been A Prank. Just get them cashmere, that’s all anyone really wants.