The game Perfection / Superfection. You had to set a timer then try to complete the puzzle before the timer expired, or the platform would jump up and shake the pieces off. It was sudden, loud and violent and frightened the shit out of me every single time. But I still played it, and jumped out of my skin.
Those little net stocking selection packs that always had opal fruits in, and my mum pinching the opal fruits when she thought I wasn't looking (!). Packs of plastic Shrinkles to be coloured in and baked in the oven and a new pack of felt tip pens. Avon kids makeup and bath stuff that made me itch but got used anyway.
In the 90s it seemed to be a thing to buy all men (especially young blokes) random products with the Guinness logo on. Guinness glass (useful), Guinness shower gel, Guinness T-Shirt, Guinness egg cup, Guinness coasters (hmmm), big fluffy novelty Guinness slippers shaped like a glass (WTF?!) . Also, any novelty giant slippers (dinosaur, monster feet, various kinds of dogs all seemed to be very popular) that were a general trip hazard and always fell off your feet halfway up or down the stairs, were a big thing in the 90s. Ladies always seemed to get various household appliances for Christmas like a sandwich toaster or deep fat fryer, or for smaller gifts, towels or tea towels. Men got socks, ties, cufflinks, golf themed gifts or boxer shorts and liquorice all sorts . No one in our house played golf.
New knickers and socks were a staple of the christmas stocking in the 1970s and early 1980s in our household, as was the annual new ballet and tap shoes two sizes too big for me as I went to dance class; these were to put away for when I grew into them. Those plastic handbags that came flat and you clipped the seams together, and everything small fell out of the holes, so you had to put a plastic bag inside your bag to stop you losing your belongings. Little leather purse on a long string to hang around your neck with your name stamped on (usually picked up by middle class Aunt and Uncle back in the summer on their holiday to Spain, where they could have the name of their choice printed on various items at the local market). Ceramic sign for your bedroom door with little picture, your name and stating that it is your bedroom in case visitors were unaware of the fact or in case your mum forgot which was your room, and pencils from the Studio catalogue with your name on them. All very coveted if you had an unusual name that wasn't on the usual personalised fare found at the seaside such as pens, notebooks, rubbers and rulers. Why it was so exciting to get a pencil with your name on, I'll never know but I remember the thrill of unwrapping a pack of pencil crayons from my godmother with my name on, and my mum telling me that under no circumstances must they be taken to school, but must be kept at home for 'best'. We were always keeping things for 'best' which meant keeping them in a drawer, box or on a shelf in their packaging. it was fine to get them out to take a wondrous look at them but under no circumstances should they ever be used. There was great uncertainty as to how important an occasion it needed to be to require the use of the 'best' items, therefore they generally never got used and so languished for years in their drawer, box or on their shelf until finally making their final journey to the charity shop circa 1999.
As a teenager in the mid-late 90's, the desirable gifts were a mini or midi hifi system with CDs, gold heart signet ring, gold hoop earrings and a pair of Doc Martens. I loved those Doc Martens and wore them all through sixth form.