When I was home for Thanksgiving, my mom offered me a small white box with Japanese writing on the side—as if she was presenting me with my dowry. Inside was a toothpaste squeezer. “Your dad and I each have one,” she told me. “It’s incredible.”
You know the feeling—when you find, whether by chance or after extensive research, a product that changes your life. Whether it’s a pair of kitchen tongs, or a good travel mug, or a perfectly inky ballpoint pen, there are certain things that, once they become part of your routine, you can’t imagine doing without them. These objects aren’t necessarily fancy or stylish, but they do their job well, and they make life a little smoother. Or at the very least, they save you a few dollars on toothpaste. Over a lifetime of use, but still.
When you do find these life-changing products, the first thing you want to do is share them. So, in putting together the first ever Free Press Gift Guide, we asked a bunch of Free Pressers to do just that. Instead of bombarding you with suggestions for forgettable stocking stuffers or accessories that will be out of style by the spring, we’re here to change lives.
Sure, when they first get that toothpaste squeezer, it might be a little underwhelming. But take it from me, ever since my days of wrestling the last dregs of Arm & Hammer Advance White from its mangled tube ended, I, too, have been a Japanese toothpaste-squeezer evangelist, thanking my mother for the best gift of the season. Happy holiday shopping!
Joe Nocera, our deputy managing editor, reveals the best gift he ever got for his wife.
She is not a light packer. Let’s start there. The night before we go on vacation, I pull down the suitcases, and we start putting things in. I’m done in about 10 minutes because, well, I’m a guy. Because my wife is not a guy, and also because she is more thoughtful than me, her suitcase will invariably be stuffed with all sorts of wonderful things like champagne to give to whomever we’re visiting, as well as enough clothes to change three times a day. Plus, some of our son’s clothes, although I’ll never understand why, since he has his own suitcase.
Then we get to the airport. You know the drill, right? Her suitcase goes up on the scale at the airline counter. It’s 54 or 56 or even (shudder!) 58 pounds. Rather than pay the extra fee for an overweight suitcase, she puts the suitcase on the floor and begins frantically taking out things and putting them in her purse to carry on (or in my underweight suitcase, dammit). I’m getting antsy. The attendant looks annoyed. Our son is really annoyed. She and I then snipe at each other all the way to the gate. Not a great way to start a vacation.
Two Christmases ago, I found the solution. I bought her a portable luggage scale. It looks sorta like a corkscrew, except it has a hook you use to lift the suitcase, while a digital display tells you how much it weighs. It cost $9.00, yet I have never seen her so happy to get a present. I have never been so happy to give one. Checking in at the airport has never been the same. Thank goodness.
Host of our hit podcast Raising Parents, Emily Oster, tells us about a must-have kitchen appliance for busy moms and dads.
Around the same time my husband decided he should get a sous vide machine—which vacuum-seals food in a bag, so you can evenly boil it—I got entranced by the idea of an Instant Pot, otherwise known as a slow cooker. He argued we would use them a similar amount. This was wrong. The sous vide machine got literally one use—this paragraph doubles as an anti-recommendation for the sous vide, no one needs it—and the Instant Pot is my best friend.
Yes, it makes soup and cooks a nice pot roast. But it also makes rice. It makes great pulled chicken. A delicious pasta cooked in its own sauce. Oatmeal! No stove, no splattering, just set it and forget it. I know people are very into air fryers, and I’m sure they are great, but if you do not own an Instant Pot, get one immediately. If you have kids, try this pasta recipe first.
My honorable-mention gift, ideal for new parents, is a large supply of Aquaphor. It is a life-changing ointment. This turns out to be a magic substance that all people with children need a lot of. We use it like the Windex in My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
Free Press columnist Niall Ferguson doesn’t drink just any old tea.
I'll always remember that first ceremony. “Are you a tea master?” I asked the man pouring the tea. “No,” he replied in a reverent whisper. “I am the servant of the tea.”
It was in the hills above Taipei, on the eve of the pandemic, and I was for the first time experiencing a true East Asian tea ceremony—one much closer culturally to Japanese tradition than to Chinese. Ever since, I have been a devotee of tiny little tea sets. Somehow, they make the ritual of tea consumption more soothing than sticking a teabag in a mug in the English style. I buy my Asian tea from Sazen in Tokyo. Here are a couple of recent and truly delicious purchases: Charcoal Roasted Ali Shan Jin Xuan, and Tokujō Yame Gyokuro.
Senior editor Olly Wiseman recommends a $12 purchase that will give the gift of spousal harmony.
The sports car is ordered (to be delivered with a bow, of course). The cashmere restock is on its way. The extra-large Diptyque candles are all wrapped and under the tree. A small box is safely hidden in the sock drawer. The cherry on top of the perfect offering for that special person in your life this Christmas? The Glocusent USB Rechargeable Book Light, available on Amazon at the time of writing for $12.34.
This little light with a clip can be attached to the cover of any volume, to illuminate a page in a dark room. I first purchased one ahead of the birth of our first child. How else to read with a baby sleeping in the room? (A question I probably spent a bit too much time thinking about given everything else going on.)
A few years later—and with our second child coming any day now—I’m no longer ashamed to admit it: I’m a book-light guy. Understand this: Give the gift of a book light and you are giving the gift of a harmonious relationship. Debates about lights-out are gone. As is the sterile beam of a phone screen’s light. Instead, you bathe in the warm glow of the Glocusent, in the company of a good book, while your partner (and maybe a baby, too) sleeps happily next to you.
Associate editor Freya Sanders has discovered the perfect work-from-home footwear.
This year, I started working remotely, and I regrettably found that I am one of those people who, as a remote worker, immediately adopts a uniform of leggings, baggy jumpers, and slippers. In fact, I got so comfortable that, whenever I needed to step out for a pint of milk or a loaf of bread, I’d get halfway down my street and realize: I’m still in my slippers.
At first, I accepted this, but slippers are ill-fitting and poor-gripping, and one day I tripped magnificently on my way to buy lunch and almost fell in the canal near my apartment. That’s when I decided: I need shoes that feel like slippers, but have the structural integrity of proper shoes.
Behold: My fluff-lined clogs. Or, to give them their proper name, Birkenstock’s “Boston Shearling” shoe in suede leather. They are unnecessarily expensive ($170) and deeply unchic, but I have not taken them off my feet since they were delivered in June. They’ve warmed my toes after outdoor swims in the summer; they’ve survived the mud and puddles of a British fall; and they’ve kept me cozy in countless Zoom meetings. And most importantly, they’ve kept me out of the drink! They’re the perfect gift for anyone who works from home. I love them.
Bari Weiss gives everyone who steps into her kitchen the hard sell on this product for produce.
Those who know me well know that I have a passion for well-sized Tupperware. I’m not sure what it says about me that when I load up leftovers into their glass cubes—Nellie’s purged the plastic from my life—and gaze upon the stack of them in the fridge, I am at peace. But the thing in my fridge that sparks the most joy is by far and away my collection of Swag Bags. These flappy fabric folders might not look like much, but their worth is beyond rubies. They keep produce, and particularly herbs, extremely fresh for weeks. God knows how many times I’ve bought dill and mint to make one dish only to let them languish in the fridge and, eventually, get tossed. Those days are behind me now.
Anyone who comes into my kitchen gets a hard sell on The Swag. I am opinionated on a great many things, but the conviction I carry for this product is perhaps my strongest opinion of all. It just works, and I don’t know how. (And the starter pack is currently $116.) What you do is get your produce and, instead of throwing it into your fridge, you run your Swag bag under cold water and throw everything in there before you put it in the fridge. It’s saved me money, and curbed food waste, but mostly it makes me feel like an adult with a well-appointed and -run kitchen.
Ben Kawaller suggests a holiday gift that no one can complain about.
It’s been years since mutual present-giving has been expected in the godless, curmudgeonly clan from which I was spawned. Instead, we do a white elephant: Everyone brings something that costs under, say, 30 bucks; we all draw numbers; and we unwrap gifts in order. You can keep what you unwrap, or you can steal an already unwrapped gift and stick your aunt with the lemon squeezer your mother brought.
We like this game: It turns the ritual of giving and receiving into a ruthless sport of winners and losers. And if you are obligated to partake in something similar, I’ve found there’s an easy way to contribute something everyone will want. Or at least, not dread the thought of going home with. And that is to bring chocolate.
Not very good chocolate, of course: At least in my family, that would defeat the spirit of the thing. My go-to is to prepare a bundle of three varieties of Pound Plus chocolate bars from Trader Joe’s. If you’re a TJ’s shopper, this is an item you have surely seen in the past and been drawn to, but felt you didn’t deserve. A pound of chocolate? Who are you, Louis XIV?
But it’s the holidays. And though you may not deserve a small stack of giant $6.99 chocolate bars, surely someone you love does. And think of how much fun it will be to snatch it away from whoever that is.
Tablet’s Alana Newhouse recommends a tub of based La Mer.
This year, the single item I have gifted more than any other is Soap by Nature’s Tallow Moisturizer. Made by a woman named Alison Koprowski in Oneonta, New York, it contains a grand total of four ingredients—all of which you will recognize and can pronounce: shea butter, castor oil, essential lemon oil, and triple-rendered grass-fed beef tallow. I've been using it for a while, but it was in 2024 that everyone else caught the tallow craze enough for me to be able to purchase it for others. And each time I have, the recipient became addicted to it. Some may assume you feel and smell like a steak wearing this all over, but it’s the opposite. You feel fresh and dewy, and everyone starts bursting about “Your skin!”
There are dozens of tallow moisturizers now on the market, but only three ways to get this particular one: by visiting Soap by Nature’s Facebook page; by accosting Alison on Sunday at the farmers market in Franklin, New York; or by being my friend. Try the first two for now. But you can still thank me!
Friend of the Free Press Brianna Wu recommends two gadgets for the world traveler.
With the election, I spent over three months last year living in hotels. So, if there’s anything I love, it’s a really well-made travel gadget.
The Anker MagGo 3-in-1 is a must-have $90 gadget if you are hopelessly locked into the Apple ecosystem like I am. It replaces your Apple Watch, iPhone, and AirPods chargers with one tiny little station that folds up and magnetically locks closed, taking up almost no luggage space. No need to remember a handful of cables. (The only caveat is that inductive charging is slower than plugging directly in.)
But, truth be told, my favorite object I own is my Leica Q3 camera. This is the definition of a luxury item—but, my God, has it changed my life. It’s essentially the smallest, best-made camera money can buy. It is over $6,000 and worth every penny. Unlike your iPhone, it’s designed to slow you down and make you think about taking good photographs. The feel of the focus ring is sublime, and even with the default settings, the pictures are better than anything your iPhone can take.
I have a friend that used to be a serious photographer, and he was lamenting that he can’t lug around a mirrorless camera to capture his kids all the time. So, like everyone else, he has a giant collection of mediocre smartphone pics. I have no such issues. My Leica Q3 is so compact, I always carry it in my little Kate Spade shoulder bag. As my work takes me around the world, I’m building up a fantastic collection of memories.
Reporter River Page sings the praises of the perfume sampler pack.
A good fragrance can change your life. It’s not just about smelling nice for other people. A scent can inspire you, make you feel like a different person, maybe even a better one. Not every scent works for every person, so it’s necessary to try them on—and piling a million scents on top of each other in a crowded Dillard’s ain’t the way to do it! So, give your family the gift of choice this holiday season. I highly recommend this pick-your-own perfume sampler pack from Imaginary Authors ($46 for eight). My favorite is the Saint Julep. Modeled on a mint julep, it has notes of magnolia, mint, and bourbon. I love putting it on, smelling a bit drunk, and feeling like the scion of a dying Southern gentry family, reading Flannery O’Connor and gambling away the farm at the Kentucky Derby. It’s magical.
Suzy Weiss is a reporter for The Free Press. Follow her on X @SnoozyWeiss, and read her piece “The Biggest Winners and Losers of Election 2024.”