Fashion notes: Go non-generic to get the gist of best gifts for her

If anecdotal evidence is to be ­believed, men are notoriously bad at choosing gifts ... but it doesn’t always have to be this way.

Katie Trotter

My father certainly produced a few inappropriate gifts in his time. There was the pasta drainer given to my mother on her birthday, which happened to be the same day that she went into labour with my brother. “It’s designer ... Italian ...” he pleaded as others looked on, faces blank as an owl’s. It wasn’t only him. There was the purse with my name inscribed on it (spelt “Katy”, which to me spelled “I don’t really like you”) and a beautiful, antique diamond ring bought by an adored boyfriend that came with a card bearing the legend: “This is not an engagement ring”.

If anecdotal evidence is to be ­believed, men are notoriously bad at choosing gifts. Hand-written notes, surprise dinner reservations – not always your forte. I’ll admit that it isn’t easy, teetering precariously on the periphery of yet another massive failure – but it doesn’t always have to be this way.

Forget practicality. It’s the enemy of great gift-giving. Women can see through the thought process a mile away. Fitness gear, pedometers, pointless kitchen apparel of any description – you’re entering a world of hurt. Decide what you want from the gift. What are your ambitions? A diamond says that you’re about to propose. Gold says that you’re in it for the long run. Lingerie is high risk. Roses scream indifference and chrysanthemums are purely corny.

Beware of going for something eye-wateringly expensive – you’re only setting an impossibly high bar for yourself and your savings account. The same goes for the grandiose gesture – you may only end up appearing a little flash Harry. Women also see through that.

You may think that the path of least resistance is to play the gift set. You know them well: a cluster of mini perfumes; a nondescript box of scented products; the candle collection ... I could go on. Sets of anything only hint at a personality so lacking in anything particularly unique that you need to cover all bases. I promise you that this will not even warrant a lovingly amused response. This is not a housewarming present for your cleaner.

My advice? Listen, watch and take notes. For these are the things that matter. Personalisation will be your secret weapon. Do it well and it communicates that you care.

What you need to do is look at her from afar. Look at the stuff that she has already. If she wears a lot of red, make a mental note. If her purse is broken, make another. If she points to or references something, write it down.

Let’s say that she loves music. Perhaps an iTunes voucher will do? Wrong. You must learn to bypass your initial idea. The inspired buyer will go for a subscription to Rough Trade, which offers your giftee an exciting package in the post every month, containing a sharp collection of world music. Or try Not Another Bill, a company that mails out a different surprise gift each month. This says that I think you’re exciting.

For a big birthday, The New York Times will put together a beautifully bound book containing every front page from any birth date until now, including space for some personal memorabilia at the back. This says that I love that you’re ­interesting.

Clothes are difficult, unless you’re incalculably confident. ­Instead, why not buy a few yards of nice fabric and a voucher to visit a dressmaker to get something designed to her exact specifications? This says that I want you to be ­happy.

All of these rules are suggestive, not entirely inclusive. Things are, after all, just things. They don’t matter. Try not to panic: women’s expectations (if any) are way lower than you think. Simply let it be seen that you care. For that’s all that we really want.