Lauren Sullivan is an editor at Wirecutter. She loves any smart tip that makes parenting less of a slog.
I take pride in my ability to give a good gift.
I listen for hints from family members throughout the year to ensure Christmas morning is filled with “Oh, wow, how’d you know?” reactions to presents.
When a friend tells me they’re expecting a second baby, I dart to my local bookseller to pick up a copy of You Were the First, which has never not resulted in immense gratitude (and tears).
I’m the friend people turn to when they’re stumped on what gift to give someone else—which is probably a large part of why I work at Wirecutter. I started in product recommendations at an early age.
Over the years I’ve focused my energy on gift-giving, but when it comes to gift-receiving, there’s one present that will always bring me gratitude (and tears). I opened it when my first child turned 1.
Our pick
This bag, with its simple and durable design, will last a lifetime. And its lack of smaller pockets means you can easily shake out sand.
Buying Options
My mother-in-law’s best friend, who was adorably nicknamed “Marma” by my oldest, gave us an L.L.Bean Boat and Tote on his first birthday. I remember seeing S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N spelled out in a classic blue font, fitting both for him (his first name) and for me (my last name). And I instantly recognized it as everything a gift should be: practical and meaningful.
This tote, a top pick in our guide to the best tote bags, will also last a lifetime, says Kit Dillon, one of Wirecutter’s travel-gear experts. Its simplicity—no frilly pockets or zippers—adds to its effectiveness, Kit notes.
I think it adds to its enduring charm, too. For a plain-looking canvas bag, the Boat and Tote manages to elicit a sentimentality that’s surprising—and not just for the Gen Zers contemporizing monograms.
Marma spent her summers on a lake in Maine, and my husband and I would visit over the years: while dating, mid-engagement, and eventually with our son in tow.
As cool mornings transitioned into scorcher afternoons, Marma would guide us down a hill to the waterfront with her own “Beans bag” in hand, filled with sandwiches, water bottles, a book, sunscreen, and Boggle.
We’d spend hours on the dock living out of her bag, reading, noshing, hydrating, and breaking to “compete” in rousing games of Boggle. As I struggled to come up with even a handful of words, Marma would scribble more than 20, immune to the hourglass or, really, any sense of time.
So when Marma gave us our own bag for my son’s first birthday, what she had given us was not just a bag but a nostalgia-infused keepsake I’d take for years to come to parks, splash pads, lakes, and beaches—a container for our own Boggle-esque memories.
When our second was born, this time a girl, a second tote arrived from Marma. The pink letters were everything my attempts at gender neutrality were not. But the tradition continued, and Marma’s laidback Maine influence seeped back into our hectic Brooklyn apartment, along with a smidgen of sand and sunscreen coating the bottom.
In a moment that walloped our family, Marma died soon after our daughter was born. My mother-in-law lost her best friend, I lost a confidant, and my then-4-year-old learned far too early that even those we love most will one day leave us.
Years passed before we had our third child, Ivy. Her arrival brought joy, but it also reminded me that Marma, who’d claimed our kids as her own squad of grandkids, would never meet her.
When my mother-in-law stepped in to give us an I-V-Y Beans tote, I cried again. She continued Marma’s legacy with a simple canvas sack. With it came the possibility of Boggle, “apps on the dock,” pit stops at the L.L.Bean store in Freeport on the way to the lake, strawberry picking in June, and blueberry picking in August—and all of the other traditions Marma imparted on our little family.
Whenever I unbox our family’s warm-weather clothes as spring begins to turn to summer, I come upon our totes. And, of course, I’ll pack them to mark the start of the season—filled with essentials and games, and on standby for whenever the mood strikes for a trip to the beach. Or a round of Boggle.
This article was edited by Alex Aciman and Ben Frumin.
Meet your guide
Lauren Sullivan is Wirecutter’s director of audience, overseeing search, social, newsletter, and all the ways readers can find our journalists’ best-in-class coverage. It’s the coolest of jobs. Before Wirecutter, while raising two kids in an 800-square-foot shoebox, Lauren helped newsrooms (NBC News, The Huffington Post) and brands (LearnVest, Etsy) develop editorial strategies. She has since upgraded to a Philly row home and a third kid, but she still carries that minimalist mindset with her. (She has never owned a microwave.)