The Anti-Wishlist: a list of things I don't want
(any time of year, really)
When you live with less, the holidays take on a strange kind of tension. You want to be gracious when people ask what you’d like, but deep down, you know the best gift is most likely nothing at all. I’ve already shared my “Gifts and Gifting for Minimalists” gift guide, but I thought maybe it’s time to make the opposite list. Not the things I’d love to receive, but the things I really, truly don’t want. The Anti-Wishlist.
I am writing this during the holiday season, but I see it as a year-round kind of thing. This is my personal anti-wishlist. It is a bit of a joke, but also completely serious. And just to be clear, this is not something you hand out to people asking what to get you, it just helps solidifying for yourself what’s worth bringing into your life.
My anti-wishlist
Personalized items - I don’t want anything with my name or initials on it. It might feel fancy to some people, but I see this as similar to having logos on things. Initials and other personalization also significantly reduce the item’s chances in the circular economy. Not very environmentally friendly.
Things with dates - Similar to personalized items, things with dates don’t make me happy either. I especially feel this way about swag/merch. Corporations love to print years on t-shirts, mugs, totes and other free items to give away during team bonding events and conferences for example. The moment events are over, the item is basically out of date. Same goes for those new year’s eve glasses with the year on it. And sure, marathon and “nana’s 80th birthday trip” shirts can have a lot of sentimental value, but again, unless you actually wear it, all of this stuff just ends up cluttering up your space or goes to landfill (because there are way too many of these items in thrift stores for even the people who ironically wear them to keep up with.)
Things with writing on them - Anything decorated with writing is a no in my book. The key word is “decorated.” Books have writing on them, so do cosmetics, and other consumables. But this writing is with a purpose, it actually tells you what’s inside. A Christmas bauble with the word “Noel” on it, or a cheese board with a clever quote, artwork with random words on it, or a jacket with a text-based design on it, are not for me. When there’s too much writing in my space, especially if it’s large, I notice my eyes constantly being drawn to it. It’s distracting and adds to my mental load.
Mass-produced decor - If something exists only to “fill a space,” I probably don’t need it. I’d rather buy from an artist or thrift store, use souvenirs, or just make something myself. I love it when every item I use to decorate my home has a story that’s a little more interesting than “this was $3 at Target.” Some of the things I decorate with include a set of small vases I bought when I spent a month in China; a large plate and a desert rose selenite, which are family heirlooms; a statuette and a cushion gifted by people dear to me; and three pieces of art I made myself.
Anything that exists mostly for the sake of novelty - I’m not drawn to things whose main appeal is that they’re “funny,” “cute,” or “quirky.” For some people, novelty fits perfectly into their aesthetic or sense of joy, and I think that’s great. But for me, the charm fades quickly, and what once felt clever often turns into something I don’t actually use or want to look at every day. A lot of “gag” or novelty items are also made very cheaply, with low-quality materials that don’t last. They’re designed to be disposable, which makes them feel like a waste of both money and resources. I’d rather invest in things that hold up over time, practical, beautiful, or tied to a memory, instead of something made only to get a quick laugh.
Electronics from non-electronics companies - A pet peeve of mine is electronics made by brands that don’t normally make them. When a company known for furniture, kitchenware, or decor starts adding power cords to their products, the results are often disappointing. These items tend to look nice, but they rarely perform well or last long. They’re also harder to repair or replace parts for once something breaks. A kettle from a design brand or a side table with built-in speakers might sound appealing, but in practice they’re usually less reliable than their simpler, non-electric versions. I’d rather stick to electronics made by companies that actually specialize in them and know how to make them work properly.
Anything that runs on a battery but doesn’t need to - I try to avoid things that use batteries when there’s no real reason for it. A battery-powered soap dispenser, salt grinder, or candle might seem convenient, but it usually just means more e-waste and another thing to maintain/charge. Batteries die, corrode, and need replacing, and often the electronics inside stop working long before the rest of it wears out. I do want to acknowledge that for some people, especially those with mobility or strength limitations, these kinds of tools make their lives infinitely more bearable, so they absolutely have their place. But for me, I’d rather keep things simple and choose options that don’t rely on power unless it genuinely improves how they work.
Fake plants - I understand the appeal of fake plants. They are low-maintenance, always green, and do not mind being in a dark corner. But they are also dust collectors made of plastic, and they never quite capture the feeling of something alive. Real plants clean the air, change with the seasons, and if they ever need to be thrown away, they decompose instead of sitting in a landfill. I would rather have a living plant that occasionally droops or outgrows its pot (and yes, also turns yellow or dies) than something that just sits there forever looking the same.
Things that are difficult to care for - I do not want to own anything that feels like a chore to keep clean, store, or use. Some things are worth a bit of extra care. I love my fancy sweaters and do not mind washing them separately on a delicate cycle, but I would never buy cashmere trousers because they would wear out too quickly from simply sitting on things. The same goes for household items. If a kitchen appliance needs to be taken apart into several pieces to clean properly, or if a decorative object collects dust in places that are impossible to reach, it will probably end up frustrating me. I want the things I own to fit into my routines naturally, not create new tasks just to keep them in good shape.
Things that do not fit my space - Anything that does not fit my space, whether that means size, style, or overall feeling. Even something beautiful can feel wrong if it overwhelms the room, blocks light, or clashes with the rest of what I already own. I have learned that an item I love in a shop or online does not always belong in my home. My space has its own rhythm and proportions, and I want the things in it to feel balanced and intentional. If something needs the whole room to adjust around it, it probably is not the right piece for me.
Plastic (honorable mention) - Plastic sneaks into almost everything, so it’s really difficult to avoid completely. But when it comes to things that are meant to last, like kitchen tools, fabrics, or household items, I make a serious effort to choose non-synthetic materials. Plastic and silicone might be convenient, but they are difficult to repair and do not age or degrade in the same way natural materials do. Once they crack or wear out (or become weirdly sticky like silicone), they usually cannot be fixed or recycled into anything useful. Natural materials, on the other hand, often last longer, develop character with use, and eventually return to the environment leaving less of a trace.
Making your own anti-wishlist
An anti-wishlist is a tool for self-awareness. It helps you notice patterns, avoid impulse buys, and make space only for things that add genuine value to your life. Everyone’s list will look different. Here are a few ways to start:
Reflect on what you have let go of.
Make a note of the items you have donated, sold, or thrown away, and write down why they did not stay in your life. Over time, you will start to see patterns in what tends to disappoint or feel unnecessary.Pay attention to what repels you in shops.
When you are out shopping or browsing online, notice what kinds of things you instantly skip over or dislike. Try to understand why. Maybe it is the material, the style, or the feeling that it would not last long.Notice what you actually love and use.
Think about the objects you reach for every day or the ones that make you happy to see. What do they have in common? Understanding your “yes” items helps define your “no” ones.Identify your recurring regrets.
If you find yourself saying “I should have known better” after a purchase, take note of what went wrong. Did you buy it for convenience, novelty, or social pressure?Keep your list flexible.
Your anti-wishlist will evolve as your needs, tastes, and circumstances change. The goal is not perfection. It is awareness.
Final Thoughts
The anti-wishlist is not about being ungrateful. It is about clarity. It is not something to give to other people, but something to make for yourself. The more you pay attention, the easier it becomes to recognize what truly belongs in your life and what does not.



We are like the same person 😆😆😆