What’s The Worst Christmas Present You’ve Ever Received?
If you don’t get at least a couple really lame gifts for every great holiday gift you receive, then consider us jealous. We’ve all got that aunt who thinks the sweater with the kittens on it is OK because it’s cashmere (true story), and though we try to imply the error of that reasoning with awkward smiles and half hugs, the message never really gets across. Before you know it, it’s been a year, the same aunt is giving you a kitten scarf to match “that sweater you loved so much last year!” (Also, we’re not sure why bad gifts consistently arrive in the form of clothes, but they always do!) Oh well, as the old adage goes, if you can’t beat ‘em, commiserate with others who’ve received similarly crappy gifts! (Or something like that.) Tales of terrifying gifts from years gone by after the jump.
“Last year my father gave me adult-sized footsie pajamas, like from ‘The Christmas Story.’ Although they look exceedingly stupid, they are actually very warm in the boondocks of Connecticut. Onesies are great as long as no one who you are having sex with sees you in them.”
“Crap with snowflakes on it is the worst. Like Xmas-themed pajamas and stuff. And ‘chic’ holiday sweaters that are not chic.”
“My mother once bought my sister a La Perla bra set from Filene’s Basement that was two sizes too big. She made her try it on in front of everyone and then said, ‘Well, we can alter it.’ Who alters lingerie?”
“Every year, without fail, my dad gives me a frumpy suit from the ‘misses’ section of Nordstrom. I haven’t worn a suit since…um, I can’t recall. Ever? But that doesn’t stop him. Oh no. I think he’s sending me a message that I should find a ‘serious’ job? There are six suits hanging in my childhood closet in my mom’s house.”
“My mom also always buys me horrible sh*t from Ann Taylor. Last year, a silver mohair sweater with bell sleeves and silver sequins. My mother is basically the worst gift-giver ever.”
“My grandma once knit me a hideous royal blue sweater. I’ve never worn it. Because I’m at jerk.”
“My dad means well but has a habit of buying me the worst holiday gifts ever. Some highlights are bunny slippers, non-fiction books about various wars and a pair of gym shoes that I swear some arthritic old woman is missing from her closet right now.”
Got any real winners (by which we mean losers) of your own? Share them in the comments.