My first gift from DH was a very practical, yet luxurious gift: he gave me a beautiful coat.
Back in our college days, we were poor young students. Correction--he was a young student, and I was a POOR young student. My first impressions of DH were his flashing gold pen, leather briefcase, and three!piece suits. Across the crowded classroom, I watched as he scribbled furiously, looking for all the world like a pre-med or pre-law student, not a student of theology.
He was one of few privileged students who had his own vehicle. Granted, it was a pitiful excuse for a car, but it provided transportation. DH had been handed down a Ford Pinto, from two older sisters who had wrecked it several times apiece. It was a precious sight to see him driving down the street with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on the driver's side door so that it would not fly open.
Before I digress too far down memory lane, I will simply say that he came from a well-to-do family, but he was not a spoiled rich kid. His parents had earned every penny the hard way, through the Depression years, and they were not about to dole it out frivolously. Dh had his tuition paid, but he kept a part-time job the entire four years while attending college, so that he could afford to support me!
I was poor! I came from a ne'er-do-well family. My father was a poor preacher, pastoring at little country churches with funny names like "Hammersly Fork." We were very familiar with food stamps, free meal tickets, and food banks.
So off I went to Bridal College--I mean Bible College--to find me a man! (I mean a ministry!) Seriously, the greatest gift my father gave to me was the promise to pay half my tuition costs, and to help me to subsidize the rest with grants and scholarships.
I needed a coat; a good coat that could withstand the midwestern winter winds, but not be too warm for the southern sun. DH bought me one for my birthday. I needed new clothes, and some shoes. DH got me some outfits for Christmas, and his mom bought me a pair of shoes. I needed a watch. DH bought me one. I needed a wallet. DH bought me one. And so on, and so forth, all throughout our college days.
DH spent sleepless weeknights as a front desk clerk in a hotel, so that he could treat me like a queen on weekends, taking me to the finest restaurants. He proposed to me on my birthday, hiding the ring in a bouquet presented by the waiter, and led me out for a victory ride around the city, when I said, "Yes!" No, we didn't ride in the Pinto: it was in a limousine!!!
Fast forward ten or twenty years: DH still treats me like a queen, but not every weekend! DH bought me a purse for my birthday (I needed one! really!) and a watch for Christmas. And my son bought me a wallet! My daughter bought me a make-up brush set and some other more feminine, but practical gifts, like fuzzy socks.
Like every man, DH had to learn the hard way that strictly practical gifts are completely unacceptable: like the toaster that he gave me for our anniversary. (But it was a four-slice one!)
In order to be appreciated, a gift for a woman must be not only practical, but luxurious!
To translate that concept into "male-speak" it isn't a "gift" for a woman if it only benefits the house. That would be considered a useful tool, like a vacuum cleaner or blender. A lot of men understand what a "tool" is, but they get tools as "gifts", so it confuses them greatly. To make matters worse, they totally understand the concept of "practical", but hardly ever agree on the term, "luxurious".
Teach your man what "luxurious" means to you, and you will both be satisfied when he chooses to give you something practical--but luxurious!
Thank you, Lord, for my dear husband. I'm very appreciative of his good gifts. I could go on and on about all the good gifts he has given me, but he would appreciate me giving him the gift of a good night's sleep!