A wishlist for the year you are actually having

Think of the yoga mat that has been on your wishlist since the winter you were going to take up yoga. You stopped in March of that year. Two aunts are about to buy it anyway, because the list is the only thing they have to go on.

A list you wrote two years ago describes a person who no longer exists. January is a good moment to throw it out and start again.

Start from what has changed

Before you add a single item, think about what is different this year. A new flat, a job with a longer commute, a garden for the first time, a baby on the way. Each of those comes with things you now need and did not need before.

Big life events deserve their own list. If you are getting married this year, a wedding registry can run next to your ordinary wishlist, so guests are not scrolling past your gardening gloves to find the dinner plates. A baby registry works the same way. Your everyday list stays for the small stuff, and the big occasion gets its own page.

Put the boring things on it too

The best lists mix dull and exciting without embarrassment. Kitchen towels that have gone grey. A phone case to replace the cracked one. The Kobo that has been sitting in your basket since October. Then, further down, the things you are saving for: a course at the local pottery studio, decent hiking boots, tickets for a concert in May.

That mix is what makes a list usable. A colleague with a small budget needs the towels. Your parents, who want to spend more, need the boots. Leave either out and one of them buys you a scented candle in desperation.

Add things that are not things

Nobody says a wishlist has to be a shopping list. A year of Spotify, a donation to the animal shelter you volunteer at, or a contribution towards the bike you are saving for are all fair entries. On Happy Giftlist you can ask for a contribution instead of a product, which is handy when the thing you want costs more than any one person would spend.

Time counts as well. Someone cooking you dinner, an afternoon of help painting the hallway, a day out with your grandfather. Those are the gifts people still talk about in August. Nobody talks about the towels.

Prune it every few months

A list goes stale fast. You buy the phone case yourself in March, you lose interest in the hiking boots, you find a new author and want everything she wrote. Put a note in your calendar for every three months and spend ten minutes on it: remove what you bought, add what you found, cut what no longer matters.

A stale list is how people end up buying you the same thing twice. It is also how the yoga mat from three winters ago ends up under the tree.

Share the link with family once and tell them to bookmark it. Then they can look whenever they need to, and you stop getting the "what do you want" text in the second week of December. Keep occasions apart, too: a birthday wishlist separate from the everyday one, and a Christmas list when the season comes round. People shopping for one occasion do not want to wade through the other.

Cheap and expensive both belong on it

The cheap things are for colleagues, neighbours and the cousin you see twice a year. The expensive items are for close family, or for a group of people who want to chip in together. Do not leave the expensive espresso machine off because it feels greedy. That is exactly the kind of gift five siblings pool money for, and if it is not on the list they will each buy you something you did not want instead.

The same goes the other way. A bar of good chocolate on the list is not beneath anyone. It might be the thing that gets used first.

A list works when it describes what you are into now, in this year, with this flat and this hobby. Take twenty minutes on a quiet evening to create a wishlist from scratch, and next time someone asks what you want, send them the link.