by Carlene Phillips ·
Friday, December 12, 2025
As part of my New York Times online subscription, I get something called Wirecutter, which recommends various commercial products. Naturally they have a list of “the best” holiday gifts, and I thought it might be a helpful place to get ideas. I could not have been more wrong.
The first gift suggestion is Cloud Socks, “cushy, squishy, bouncy terry lounge socks.” Why would anyone want socks that are so active? Isn’t the job of socks to keep feet warm and covered, not to have one’s feet bopping around when trying to walk?
The Diamond Huggie Hoops are “demure hoops with 11 tiny natural diamonds,” but it seems disingenuous to call 11 diamonds of any size “demure.” Wirecutter acknowledges they are quite pricey at $389, but claims they are all-purpose, “real stunners for dress-up occasions and for everyday wear.” I don’t know about the latter look—sneakers, jeans, and a fleece jacket with dangly diamonds in your ears?
The “perfect thing for any woman”—a “washable, airy, and modern” silk tee and pants. “When she wakes from a luxurious slumber, she can swan about like a 1930s movie star in the wide, flowy pants.” Of course, if she’s the kind of woman who stumbles about after waking from a restless night and hurries to get a cup of coffee rather than swanning about, this sleepwear is not for her.
Wouldn’t it be more cruel than kind to give anyone other than the rich and retired a “Where to Go When” visual travel guide that suggests events and destinations for every month? What if your vacation isn’t until December? You’d have to go through 11 months of tantalizing vacation spots to get to your suggested destination—only to find out you can’t possibly afford it.
At first look, a custom-made Pet Doppelgänger Pillow seems like a nice idea, even though admittedly “the velvet would be less cuddly than the actual furry animal.” But then, if you have a real Rover, why do you need a stuffed version? Rover might get jealous seeing you lounging with his double. And when Rover is gone?
A Confections Black Box offers chocolates in an “eye-popping array of shapes and textures.” But the chocoholics that I know couldn’t care less about the shape and feel of their candy or the box it comes in.
The Meyer Lemon Tree blooms with fragrant white flowers. “And with time and care it may eventually bear Meyer lemons. The operative words here are “may eventually.” So this could be given only to a younger person who would still be around for the possible birth. And who of them has the patience to wait for any kind of gratification?
Someone who suffers from seasonal affective disorder might be grateful for the Nordic Peace Golden Hour Sunset Lamp. The LED lamp casts a warm glow. But wait—it comes with a remote control for the strobe and flash patterns. Ultra bright, pulsating lights alleviate depression? How?
Advertised as “for the gardener,” there’s a Lego flower bouquet. The recipient can style and build a whole bouquet with 15 individual stems. Any self-respecting flower-lover would more likely throw the Legos than build flowers with them.
Another Wirecutter idea for a gardener would be the Original Danny DeVito Planter, made with 3-D printed plastic. No disrespect to Mr. DeVito, but no serious gardener would put a plant in a pot with a recognizable face on it. Let alone a plastic one, especially a 3-D printed one.
Are the “benefits of a titanium hammer worth the price” of $300? What DIY project could possibly need that strong a hammer? And wouldn’t the nail on the receiving end of the swing drive through more than the intended layer of wood? Say in preparing to hang a picture?
Who could think Funwares’ 101 Pooping Puppies jigsaw puzzle would be fun or funny? But, apparently “the 1,000 pieces keep the laughter rolling with German shepherds, golden retrievers, and Bernese mountain dogs doing their business.” Maybe the easy-going golden retriever wouldn’t mind, but the shepherd and the Bernese would be horrified at the indignity.
A gift for kids is the Tote-a-Fort kit. It includes three nylon blankets, velcro straps and ties for attaching to supports, three weighted anchor bags so everything stays in place. And it all fits neatly in a cinch bag. True, busy parents can be spared cleaning up scattered bedding.
But is it really a gift to kids to eliminate searching around the house for materials, having to be creative about trying different supports and ways of attaching things, collaborating with one another and most of all, encountering failure—the collapse of the roof that necessitates figuring out what would work better and starting again.
Finally, I come upon a night light in the form of a slouched potato. It’s adorable, useful, and costs only $11.99. I’m so excited, I order four. But when my cart gets to checkout, a message in red appears saying something went wrong with the credit card number. I go back and redo the payment information. It’s still wrong and now my cost is double what it was. I try again and this time the cost is something like $180. Panicked, I press delete.
That night I dream that three Amazon trucks pull up to deliver boxes and boxes of giant yellow potatoes.
Carlene Phillips, author of “A Common History: The Story of Harvard’s Identity,” is a regular feature writer who pauses to reflect on the humor in the everyday. She was an English teacher at Acton-Boxborough High School.