Food is one of the few gifts that doesn’t pretend to last forever and that’s precisely its strength. It’s practical, temporary and inherently shareable. A tin of cookies, a jar of soup mix or a loaf of homemade bread doesn’t ask for storage space or emotional commitment. It just asks to be enjoyed.

And even though the type of food may seem basic, a jar of homemade granola, some chocolate bark made from leftover chocolate and pantry staples, or a simple spice blend mixed at the kitchen table can feel far more personal than any express-shipped gift. Especially when it comes with a short note like: ‘This was my grandmother's recipe,’ or: ‘This reminded me of our coffee dates.’

There’s something reassuring about giving a gift that disappears. Marmalade, roasted nuts or infused oil fulfil their purpose and quietly exit. We like that.

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For all the objects exchanged at Christmas, what many people actually want is time. Time to catch up, to slow down, to catch their breath without notifications.

This is where homemade gifts can be surprisingly powerful. A handwritten voucher for a winter walk, a home-cooked dinner in January, or an afternoon spent finally tackling that long-postponed project together might not look impressive under the tree, but it does tend to stick.

These gifts also sidestep the idea that generosity has to involve spending. A playlist made for dark evenings, a planned movie night, or an offer to babysit so someone else can rest all say the same thing: I thought about you. And that counts.

DIY Christmas décor has a reputation for being festive now and awkward later. The kind of thing that feels right for exactly three weeks, then lives in a box for eleven months, waiting for its annual reappearance.

A more intentional approach looks different. Dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks strung into a simple garland. Neutral clay ornaments. Reusable fabric napkins in soft winter tones made from left-over fabric. Decorations that don’t mind sticking around once the tree is gone and don’t scream ‘Christmas,’, but quietly become part of your decor, or will be back again next year without a full rebrand.

Sometimes the most thoughtful gift is one you already own. Not a careless re-gift, but a deliberate choice.

A book that shaped the way you think, with a note explaining why. A plant cutting grown from something you’ve been keeping alive for a while now (I mean, that’s huge). That beautiful thrifted leather jacket that you just don’t wear that much. Things with a past, passed on with care.

In a culture that treats ‘new’ as a love language, this approach can feel almost rebellious. But objects with history tend to carry more meaning than objects with price tags.

We’re taught to see last-minute gifting as failure. Poor planning, a rushed solution. But it can also be a conscious choice not to default to convenience.

Last minute can mean choosing a homemade treat over express shipping. Printing a photo instead of ordering décor. Writing a note instead of adding another object to the pile.

Homemade gifts are about aligning what we give with how we want to live: a little simpler, a little slower, and a lot more intentional. And as Christmas approaches, it might help to ask a different question. Not ‘What can I still buy?’ but ‘What can I give that feels true?’ And sometimes, the answer is already at home.