What to put on a Christmas list when you cannot think of anything

Updated 11 September 2026

The difficulty is rarely that there is nothing you want. It is that being asked directly empties your head, and the only things that come to mind are either too expensive to say out loud or too dull to bother anybody with. Here is a way through that does not involve scrolling a shop.

Start with your year, not with the shops

Opening a shop and waiting to be inspired is the slowest possible method, and it produces lists of things you do not especially want that happen to have been on the front page.

Work backwards from your own year instead. Three questions do most of the work: what did you replace this year because the old one finally broke, what did you not buy because it felt indulgent, and what did you borrow from somebody and then think about again afterwards.

That last question is unreasonably productive. The thing you borrowed and kept thinking about is almost always a better present than anything you would have found by browsing, because somebody already proved it was worth owning.

Seven categories that are not simply "stuff"

Work down this list rather than trying to think of presents in the abstract. Most people find four or five things before they reach the end.

• The upgrade. Something you already own and use constantly, in a better version — the kitchen knife, the umbrella, the pillow, the headphones. Low risk, because your daily use has already proved the need.
• The consumable you ration. The good coffee, the olive oil you buy the small bottle of, the proper socks. Nothing is wasted and nothing takes up space, which matters to anybody who already has enough things.
• The thing you would never buy yourself. This is what presents are actually for. It is usually not expensive — it is just slightly frivolous, which is precisely why it needs somebody else to buy it.
• The unglamorous fix. The drawer that does not close, the missing bike light, the picture that has leaned against the wall for two years. Deeply satisfying to receive and almost never guessed.
• Something to do rather than own. A concert, a class, a day out, a meal with the person giving it. Costs the same as an object and is remembered considerably longer.
• The contribution. One part of something larger — a share of a bigger item, or money towards a trip. Works well when several people want to club together, and it stops five separate presents arriving.
• The unambiguously boring one. Socks, batteries, the specific screwdriver. Put one on. It gives the person who genuinely cannot spend much a dignified option, and you will use it.

Spread the prices on purpose

A list that is all one price does not work, because the people reading it are not all in the same position. Aim for something in each band below. The figures are illustrative — shift them to whatever the bands mean among your own family.

If the top item is genuinely expensive, say explicitly that part of it is welcome. Most people will not work that out on their own, and the ones who would have contributed quietly go and buy something else instead.

When you genuinely want nothing

Saying "nothing, really" is honest and it does not work. The people asking are going to buy something regardless, and what they buy without guidance is the thing that ends up in a cupboard.

The move is not to invent wants. It is to redirect. Name something consumable, something small and something that is not an object at all — an afternoon, a meal, a hand with a job you have been putting off. All three are true answers to "what do you want" and none of them adds to what you own.

A charity donation is the other honest answer, and it is worth naming the specific charity rather than the category. "Something for a food bank" leaves the other person doing research they did not ask for.

Writing the list for somebody else

For a child, the list is mostly a service to relatives who are guessing at sizes, reading ages and what is already in the house. Write down the size, the age range and the specific version, because "a scooter" and the correct scooter are two different presents, and one of them gets returned.

For a partner or a parent who refuses to say what they want, watch for a fortnight instead of asking again. People announce their wants constantly in the form of complaints — the thing that is broken, the thing they keep borrowing, the thing they mention every time it comes up.

Keep a child’s list and your own separate rather than combining a household into one page. Relatives usually want to buy for one person, and a merged list makes them work out which half is which.

How many things, and when to send it

Eight to twelve is the range that works. Fewer than about six and the first two people to look have taken everything, leaving everybody else with nothing to choose from. More than fifteen and it stops reading as a list of things you want and starts reading as a catalogue.

Mark one or two as favourites. It is the single most useful thing you can do for the person who asked, because the honest question underneath "what do you want" is usually "what do you want most".

Send it in the last week of November or the first week of December. Any earlier and it is forgotten; any later and the people who wanted to order something have run out of delivery time.

Leaving the list open afterwards is fine and sensible — on a list like this one, adding something in mid-December cannot spoil anything, because your own view never shows what has already been taken.

What to leave off

Clothes in a size you are hoping to be rather than the size you are. Anything that only works if the giver has taste identical to yours. Anything you would be annoyed to receive in the wrong variant, unless you are willing to specify the variant exactly.

Also leave off anything you are actually about to buy yourself. A list is not a holding pen — if you need it in November, buy it in November. The item that sits on a list for two years because you keep nearly buying it is the one that makes the whole list feel stale.