Lisa Zhu | Lessons in gift-giving

A few days ago, I received a job offer. Fueled by the prospect of finally having some cash to burn, I ecstatically embarked on a shopping spree downtown.

But somewhere between Sephora and Victoria's Secret, I found myself beset by hapless males doing their Valentine's Day shopping. As I watched husbands with constipated facial expressions scrutinize rows of glass display cases and boyfriends self-consciously sniff tiny strips of paper daubed with various scents, I couldn't help but pity them.

For many Americans in relationships, especially men, failure to buy a proper Valentine's Day present can have pretty deadly results. "I think guys should never buy girls material gifts because they'll never get it right," Wharton senior Myra Deshmukh said.

And in our consumer-driven pop culture, we constantly perceive images encouraging us to, "Upgrade you, Audemars Piguet you." Clearly, the reality is that most guys lack the ability to distinguish Tiffany's from Target, but with all this pressure to impress, what's a man to do? Worry not, my baffled brothers, for I may have found a solution - the Valentine's Day registry.

For those of you who haven't attended a wedding or a baby shower, registries work a bit like this: Guest receives an event invitation specifying the store of registration. Guest goes to said store and is shown a list of items Host has selected. Guest proceeds to spend $200 on a sterling silver fondue set, all the while regretting ever becoming friends with Host in the first place.

Similarly, for a Valentine's Day registry, the recipient-to-be would pick out products in a store of her choosing. When it came time for the boyfriend to do his shopping, he could simply utter the name of his significant other to a sales clerk, and lo and behold - a selection of acceptable gifts appears, no confusion necessary. Unlike a wedding registry however, there should be one, and only one, guest and host in this case (unless of course, you are cool with the whole polygamy thing - I hear it's quite "in" nowadays).

Thinking in business terms, a Valentine's Day registry could be quite lucrative. According to the National Retail Federation, American consumers spent a total of $13.7 billion on Valentine's Day in 2006.

If sales staff can push gift recipients to select increasingly expensive items for their registry, retailers could manage to push revenues even higher.

But for those who operate under the adage, "It's the thought that counts", the idea of a Valentine's Day registry may seem a bit too materialistic.

"Personally I feel like gift-giving shouldn't be required," Wharton sophomore Kevin Tucker said. "I don't feel like girls especially should get upset about not getting expensive gifts. It's so much more meaningful to make a gift." For others though, consistently sub par gift-giving practices can contribute significantly to a relationship's decline.

For instance, College sophomore Dasha Barannik told me, "In my last relationship, when I didn't get any gifts, I got upset, but that was really just a manifestation of a larger problem, which was that the guy and I weren't right for each other."

However, regardless of your overall philosophy on gift-giving, it's pretty safe to assume that a Valentine's Day registry would at least reduce the number of truly terrible gifts that are given and received every year. If you're married or in a serious relationship, one bad present probably won't spell doom (and if it does, then I really hope you were smart enough to get a pre-nup). But in a budding romance, a wrongly chosen gift can be a deal-breaker.

Case in point - in high school, I received a particularly horrible stuffed animal in homeroom from an anonymous source. When squeezed, the bear's Barney the Purple Dinosaur-esque voice uttered those three little words that strike fear into the hearts of commitment-phobes everywhere. My reaction to the gift was an elongated "Ew" accompanied by a look of deep disgust. Needless to say, my secret admirer never revealed his identity after that.

It gets worse for some. Nursing senior Tania Jeanty recalled, "My ex-boyfriend bursared me a random sweatshirt from his school, and it ended up being three sizes too big."

At the very least, I'd hope that Penn students would be intelligent enough to avoid similarly disastrous gift choices.

And if not, at least you have a full year ahead of you to plan for Valentine's Day 2009. Just remember: Bursar is not an option.

Lisa Zhu is a Wharton and College junior from Cherry Hill, NJ, United Minorities Council chairwoman and Undergraduate Assembly member. Her e-mail is zhu@dailypennsylvanian.com. Zhu-ology appears Fridays.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.