How to Surprise, Not Traumatize, Your Nearest and Dearest

By Anne Postic 

I love surprises, and not because I'm a particularly spontaneous person. I'm an uptight planner, a Nervous Nelly, and, on my worst days, a humorless killjoy. But I adore surprises, because my parents did, and theirs were carefully considered and delightful.

I remember coming home from school one day, around fifth grade, and heading to my room to do homework, as any high-strung 10-year-old does. The day before, I'd gone shopping with my mother, in search of a winter coat. Deep within the racks of J.B White's, I found the coat of my dreams, the kind romantic heroines in my favorite historical novels wore made just for them at the beginning of the season by the family couturier. The soft gray wool princess coat, tapered at the waist, and slightly flared to just below the knee, was accented with a darker gray collar, covered buttons, and subtle piping, all in velvet. I imagined the coat being slipped from my shoulders by a butler after I descended from my carriage with the help of a footman, on my way into a maiden aunt's home for tea. I could taste the watercress sandwiches, and smell the perfectly steeped Ceylon tea leaves.

My mother, who had exactly zero interest in fashion, understood. She had been vastly disappointed when, at the age of six, she asked for a cowboy get-up and instead received a cowgirl ensemble, an insult to her vision of a rough and tumble cow person, galloping through the wild, wild west on her trusty horse. Alas, my coat wasn't in the budget. (The budget is always tight when four children each grow out of things within two weeks, destroying those same things at the speed of light so they can't be handed down.) I understood and didn't even entertain the possibility of owning such a glorious piece of clothing.

When I opened the door to my room and saw the coat on the bed, I cried. I had to compose myself before going to thank my mom, who was patiently waiting to share my joy. “It's such a beautiful coat, and it just looks so perfect on you,” she said, explaining that she and Dad had managed to find some wiggle room in the budget. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. And, yeah, I would still wear that coat.

The best surprises put the recipient first. They aren't about what the surpriser loves, but about how well they know the surprisee. On a recent trip to Paris, my husband and I surprised our hosts and friends with an outing. We told them the time and dress code, and that was it. Some of them share my affinity for predictability (or abject terror of ceding control, as some might put it). One friend, knowing my love of clothing-optional hammams, had one question.

“Does the surprise involve nudity?”

A resounding no, as I exclusively enjoy public nudity in dimly lit, women-only spaces. Another friend was okay with surprises, as long as they didn't involve heights. He was safe with me, as I would self-eliminate on any dating show that blindsided me with zip-lining, bungee jumping, or even a helicopter. (Obviously, I'd never go on a dating show, as I'm: 1. Married; 2. terrified of public humiliation, and: 3. against sharing bedrooms with people I don't know).

Happy surprises never incorporate anything the recipient might fear or even mildly dislike. Keep it simple or know your target  well. Think my fear of heights is silly? Talk to me about it. Don't spring a tightrope walking lesson on me. You'll end up wasting your money and time. Plan a surprise that doesn't require any effort, emotional or otherwise, for the people you love.

Our surprise in Paris? A private, sunset boat ride on the Seine. I brought our favorite French saucisson from Auvergne, delicious cheese, and fresh baguettes from the best bakery. We sipped cool drinks — Sancerre for some, Perrier for others, because I did my homework — and enjoyed the gentle breeze as we floated down the Seine toward a view of the Eiffel Tower. Our guests loved it. And the pictures were fantastic, thanks to “magic hour” lighting. No one got naked, no heights or great speeds were involved, and we enjoyed it as much as our friends did. Surprise!