While you’ve been racing around town hunting down everyone else’s presents (with Varsity’s gift guide to help) you probably haven’t had time to stop and consider what you’ll be getting this Christmas. But it’s never too early to start thinking about it, and thus begin practising, in front of the mirror, your very genuine reactions to them. Luckily for you, I’ve generously compiled a comprehensive list of every type of present you’re likely to receive this Christmas, complete with a professional psycho-analysis of all your loved ones. You may also spot your own gift-giving tendencies here.

The immaculately wrapped box

The gift itself is probably quite generic, but Jesus Christ those edges are sharp. It’s entirely possible more money was spent on the wrapping paper and elaborate bow than the actual gift itself. This present likely comes from someone raised in a high-achieving family who get very competitive about presentation around Christmas. (This couldn’t be me – I’ve discovered the cheapest way to wrap presents during term time is to use the free Varsity newspapers outside of the college bathrooms, after reading them first, of course). When receiving this gorgeous gift, be sure to compliment their wrapping before tearing into it. For extra points, consider murmuring “I almost don’t want to open it and risk ruining your beautiful handiwork,” which is exactly what they want to hear – they’d probably prefer you didn’t unwrap it either.

“Avoid complimenting the bag itself; you’ll probably have to give it back”

One hundred small things, mostly from a charity shop

They didn’t feel confident enough to place all their bets on one present, so they thought to increase their odds of success by getting multiple. It’s basic probability: you’ll usually end up liking at least one of them. This collection is rarely wrapped (there are too many presents to warrant that) but instead stuffed into a bag, to be pulled out like a lucky dip. Expect to find: a cursed ceramic gnome, a Twix bar, a singular tap, a game for a five-year-old, a mug for a seventy-two-year-old man and a pen with something stupid on the end of it. When receiving this present, you’re not required to pretend you’re equally thrilled by every gift (they know the odds of that are unlikely) but rather just pick one or two items to shower praise on. Avoid complimenting the bag itself; you’ll probably have to give it back.

The present you basically bought yourself

Sending a Christmas list wasn’t enough for them – even when you included links. They prefer you pick out your own present, send them the receipt, and then let them send you the money afterwards. Alternatively, they cut out the middleman and just give you money. The psychology behind this is simple enough: they don’t trust their own taste and fear the gift-giving reputation that one fatal gift will bring them. Or, if the money came mostly in the form of 2p coins in a plastic bag from your uncle, then they probably just wanted to offload some loose change.

“Now you have the difficult task of trying to convey real excitement in a way that feels genuine and not performative”

The present you’ve truly never heard of before

Unlike the previous example, this present is impossible to predict because you have literally no idea what it is. It might be some quirky find from the Ark. The giver probably had a very thoughtful and considerate reason for gifting you this, but good luck extracting it without revealing your own utter bewilderment. Last Christmas my dad got me a Crimpit. What is a Crimpit you ask? Excellent question.

The gift that feels like a coded message

Soap! Exercise equipment! A self-help book! You gave absolutely no indication you wanted this, they simply sat down and thought about what you really needed this Christmas. You just have to try not to be offended.

A book about your degree

I hate to say it, but you only have yourself to blame for this gift. The giver likely knows very little about you except how much you talk about your degree. They can’t be blamed for not knowing you had a life outside of it. Don’t point out the fact that they’ve essentially gifted you more work. Instead, smile sweetly and act as though that 1,000 page book on the French Revolution is perfect for some light reading.

The annoyingly perfect present

Damn it. Somehow, they’ve magically managed to get you exactly what you wanted, without you even telling them. They’ve also definitely gone over budget, but you can’t mention that. Now you have the difficult task of trying to convey real excitement in a way that feels genuine and not performative, while also hiding the existential panic that your gift for them doesn’t match up.

And that’s it. Every Christmas present is equally valued and special in its own way. I, for one, use my Crimpit every day of my life, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And I eagerly await something equally inexplicable to cherish this year.