In this edition of The Gift, we’re making the case for a DIY Advent calendar—and sharing our favorite adorably tiny gifts. Plus: the best presents for grown-ups who don’t want to grow up.
I don’t have any specific memories of opening an Advent calendar daily in front of a roaring fire or anything like that. As far as holiday traditions went, I was more taken by my grandmother’s ceramic Christmas tree that had removable Lite-Brite-style twinkly lights than anything else.
But now I’ve swung completely in the other direction. I am so into Advent calendars that I actually curate a bespoke DIY one for my daughter each year. (Do I have time for this? No. Do I do it anyway? Yes.) I use an older version of this adorable, house-shaped DIY calendar and fill it with whatever I think will delight, gathering little bits whenever inspiration strikes.
For me, it’s less about finding fancy things—my daughter is almost as equally thrilled with Hersey kisses as she is with a darling handmade felted woodland creature—and more about the tradition of unwrapping the treats together each morning. It’s a joy for us both, to experience how the sweetness of such a small but thoughtful thing can illicit outsized excitement.
So whether you’re in the market for little delights to fill an Advent calendar, to give during Hanukkah’s eight nights, to stuff a stocking, or just to leave on your co-workers’ desks, I’m here to help. I’m pretty much an expert at creating miniature magic.
When I first started, I pulled ideas from everywhere: I convinced a Lego-loving colleague to give me a Miss Piggy minifig. I bought a pompom with googly eyes from a Brooklyn street vendor. I grabbed a few sheets of printer label paper and doodled my own mini picture frames for my kid to draw on and keep as stickers.
After the success of that first Advent, it’s like an invisible algorithm kicks off in my brain every late summer and early fall. I start seeing itty-bitty cuteness everywhere: a floral measuring tape that fits in your palm at the hardware store; a container of little glass cardinals in the back of a seemingly hopeless tchotchke store; the cute 3-D printed animals a mom down the street bought for last year’s Easter egg hunt.
Small gifts abound. But over the years, a few have stood out to me as being extra special:
- For my mom and well-coiffed pals, I stock up on these elegant Fiona Franchimon hair pins I discovered when my hair was too short for my usual giant clips.
- For my daughter and her friends on their birthdays, I’ve given a felted Waldorf woodland mouse housed in a leaf necklace. (They’re not inexpensive, but they’re handmade by a Californian dollmaker, and they’re very special.) There are also these individual mini baby dolls that would make a sweet gift for a soon-to-be big sibling.
- To charm both kids (past choking-hazard age) and grown-ups alike, I like to give stones or geodes. In the past, I’ve purchased an assortment from our local children’s museum store, and I recently found an Etsy shop, Beadlanta, that sells pouches of stones for $5 each The rose quartz is pretty and pink, and what I don’t give to my daughter, I’ll keep in a little bowl on my desk to fiddle with.
Curating these tiny presents for my daughter has become somewhat of a metaphor for the kind of mom and friend I want to be: someone who makes little memories that return in unexpected ways. The joy lives on, whether the niceties end up displayed on the mantelpiece—or you happily find one under a couch cushion months later.
