Christmas - time to get personal

I've never been sure of personal shoppers, not since my first experience with the bikini one who kept telling me I looked nice in crochet, when in fact I looked like a plump satsuma in a bag. Liberty, however, is offering a service in which no trying-on is involved - you give them a budget and a short pré-cis of your family and other loved ones, they choose your Christmas presents for you.

This is especially good for such loved ones who've asked for something you can't be bothered to get. That's always happening to me, since I'm of a fairly slut-tish disposition (did I mention that?). It's pretty good for all your yule needs - in fact, unless you get some freako kick out of schlepping round shops looking for tat you can just about pass off as desirable for a day.

Anyway, I sent them my list. And this is what I got: Mother, 64, particularly likes forks, spoons and other examples of wrought metal work. Is also keen on wearing very bright colours. Last year, asked for an angle-grinder ... £50

Celia the personal shopper appeared to have some psychic connection with my mother. Her first choice were two snail spoons, in the shape of snails, which I cannot imagine in any household in the world, other than my mother's. I didn't buy them - it only encourages her. Otherwise, there were four scarves so apt that she already has 19 just like them and a pair of beautiful Scando salad servers that I bought with a mind to keeping. For me.

Father, 61, very greedy. Items of quality wasted on him, since he will only break them. Last year, asked for whisky ... £20

OK, first up was a pair of socks, but no ordinary socks - posh Hackett ones, with a mini Britain embroidered on the side. "In case he's a bit of a traditionalist," Celia explained, which raised a laugh, him being an anarchist (or claiming to be, whenever required to walk to the end of his road for voting purposes). She also suggested cuff links in the shape of pigs ("look at their cute little bum tails," she said, and she had a point) but I thought I'd keep the greedy business a bit more oblique. Then she brought out two exquisite whisky glasses and I bought them, even though he'll break them.

Sister, 29, very fashionable. Last year, asked for book of Wolfgang Tillmans something or others (I never found it, so I still don't know exactly what it is he does for a living) ... £30

Celia struggled manfully with this brief, but I don't think I'd been precise enough. She had this sibling down as some kind of It girl, and pulled out a cute Lulu Guinness mirror thingo, and a double-plus cute Osprey little black book (which I bought, for me). This sibling is, in fact, slightly more "attitudinal" (Celia's coinage) than that, and is more likely to carry gravel in her handbag than a cute mirror thingo. That was my fault, though.

Sister, 21, not all that fashionable. Interests include dentistry and kitchen implements, provided they're green or yellow (that's the implements, not the dentistry). Last year, asked for "something she would keep and treasure for ever and ever" ... £30

Liberty isn't big on dentistry so we stuck to the kitchen implements. "How about getting her this very cool Philippe Starck lemon squeezer which looks like a space craft, then giving it to her with a bag of lemons and limes." I liked the lateral thought and bought it. For the sister.

God-daughter, three, likes dinosaurs. Last year, couldn't talk. Got what she was given ... £20

I rejected a beautiful purple dinosaur since I gave her an inferior beige one for her birthday. I also rejected the mummy duck with lots of baby ducks, since I hold myself responsible for her moral outlook in later life, and don't want her to have tons of children before she's had a nice career. In the end, I chose a set of crayons which were also soaps, so you could draw on yourself in the bath, then wash it off (groovy, no?).

Miscellaneous male, 29, Marxist. Heavily disenchanted with consumer culture. Not a big fan of knick-knacks. Wasn't on my Christmas list last year, on account of not having met me . Spent ... as little as possible, to avoid self-perpetuating merry-go-round of needless consumption (his coinage).

Celia suggested that maybe the crayons would do for him as well. I liked the neat symmetry of treating Marxists like three-year-olds at Christmas, as well as at dinner parties and in politics. Didn't buy a second set, though - thought he might be cross.

As I was shuffling back into my jacket, Celia suggested that maybe a quick scoot round the fashion department would be fun, and I heartily agreed. Then I saw an Alexander McQueen skirt which I liked, and it seemed ludicrous after all that hard generosity not to buy it. It's good and warm, too, so mummy will be pleased.

Spent:

On other people: £64
On me: £320
Presents bought: For other people: three
For me: three
(counting the salad fork and spoon as a single item) Enjoyment gleaned from unexpected treats for me: .....priceless