by Sarah Nicole

Expecting something under the tree from your spouse/partner/significant (or not so significant) other? Here’s how to take it.

Lingerie. Did you ASK for a rhinestone g-string? A red vinyl corset? A pair of circulation-eliminating garters? No? Well, then, no need to say thank you. After all, tacky fetish-wear (unless it’s your fetish too) is hardly a gift to you… and if you don’t feel like playing naughty or nice with the prick, his next orgasm can be a gift to himself too.

On the other hand, if he takes the time to correctly note your sizes, venture into your favourite boutique, and buy you the kind of exquisitely impractical underthings you’ve always coveted but never purchased for yourself, then yes. Yes, yes, OH GOD YES, all Christmas Day long.

A homemade book of romantic coupons. “Fifteen-minute back rub.” “Long, passionate kiss in public.” “One movie rental—YOUR CHOICE!”

Um, please. There’s no redeeming this lazy excuse for a gift. I know you find his broke ass hot and his starving-artsy shtick adorable, but a “romantic coupon book” isn’t his whimsical creativity at work. I guarantee you, dude got the idea from the same men’s magazine that told him to trim “down there” so he’ll look less puny. Ugh. My advice? Dump him before NYE so you can wake up with someone who’ll sign the bill for New Year’s Day brunch, not a “breakfast in bed” voucher.

Of course, I’m not saying you need a man to buy you brunch, just that he should be willing. And if he’s willing but not able, he should make you actual breakfast in bed, not a coupon you’ll probably be too embarrassed to cash in. Better yet, make you his breakfast, without asking for anything in return. That’s what we call a happy holiday.

The heart necklace. Ah, the heart on a chain, that pretty, hopeful, and hopefully expensive symbol of now-and-forever love. This is a gift that says, “Thanks for being my girl,” and also, “please stay that way for a while,” and maybe also, “my mom told me it’s time to get you this.”

Last year, my then-boyfriend presented me with a white gold-and-mini-diamond heart necklace. Suddenly, I went from saying “these necklaces are such a typical expression of male possessiveness!” to being all, “oooh, so perfect, I am never taking this off!” And while I secretly thought it looked like it was from Sears, I also thought the dude was my future husband. So I wore it from Christmas to spring, morning noon night, never once removing it… until a month or so after our third-and-final breakup, when I marched into a pawn shop and sold my “symbol of love” for an equally symbolic five dollars.

None of the above. Congratulations! Your s.o.’s m.o. isn’t utterly conventional. Maybe he even put some thought into your gift? Shit. Don’t make me say “awww”.