Buying anyone a car for Christmas? Not this year, perhaps. Crude recessionary forces dictate that few of us will be fondly wrapping up a glistening, factory-fresh motor for someone close to us, as the great day of giving nears. Indeed, to judge from much of what you hear, most people will be lucky to get a walnut and our very best wishes.

Interestingly, a car is one of the few items not to appear on the nine-year-old's Christmas list that I have at hand. Pretty much every other big-ticket item seems to be on there, with its price helpfully appended. But not a car. I'm pretty sure that, in a less hostile climate, at least one Lamborghini would have been requested. Clearly the new note of economic reality has sounded across all sectors of the market.

Remember the car salesmen this Christmas, won't you? So many of them are destined to be lonely, uncertain and surrounded by hundreds of square feet of unshiftable Subarus. Go in and see one, when you are passing. Buy a key-fob or upholstery wipes or something. Anything to make them feel wanted. It can mean so much. And the same thing goes for estate agents.

In a season of increasingly desperate offers, Chevrolet is offering its Lacetti hatchback with a free Christmas tree and a bootful of decorations. Does that swing it for you? I'm not sure it does for me. Bear in mind that a Lacetti costs around £10,000 and isn't a particularly nice car. Even if the tree were big enough to count as a gift from the people of Norway, I'm not sure you would feel irresistibly drawn to defy the prevailing financial mood here.

Also, it's undeniably a buyer's market now. I'm confident that if you showed yourself willing and able to buy not just a Lacetti but any a car in any dealership at the moment, you could ask them to throw in the tree twinkling gaudily in the corner of the showroom and they would agree.

It's a shame because, in a different set of economic circumstances, I might have been able to recommend the Suzuki Swift as an ideal last-minute gift - even above a Lacetti stuffed with baubles. The Swift is an engaging, efficient, practical and largely foolproof city car whose latterday, slightly racy redesigns have seen it evolve well beyond its original incarnation as a kind of enhanced conservatory for maiden aunts.

Right now you would consider getting one for a trendy uncle, a hard-to-please partner, a tricky teenager - the appeal is potentially broad. Maybe the car's agile body is not quite small enough to back up under a Christmas tree. But it would be fairly easy to hide it until the big day - possibly in the wardrobe or under the stairs, or maybe even in the boot of your other car.

It's cheap - not, perhaps, recession-bustingly so, but under £10,000. It has some of the dash and cheek of the Mini, but none of the ubiquity, and is roughly two-thirds of the price. And it's the future of driving. As a US Government report into the motor industry has stated: “The shift in consumer preferences towards smaller, more fuel-efficient passenger cars appears to be permanent.” (The report said this in 1980, a year after giving Chrysler $1 billion of bail-out money to arrest its spiral towards the plughole. Truly, there is nothing new under the sun.) The Swift even has a sensible name, which is not something guaranteed when you shop at Suzuki. On the other hand, the Swift is, undeniably, a Suzuki, which means that lots of people are going to wonder why it isn't a motorbike.

You'll probably have no answer to that - except that, clearly, it isn't. It's got doors, among other reasons. Tempted? Surely someone you know would love one. It's got to be better than tokens.

Top speed: 109 mph

Acceleration: 0-60 in 11 seconds

Average consumption: 45.6 mpg

CO2 emissions: 143 g/km

Eco rating: 7/10

One careful owner: Sara Cox

On the stereo: Snow Patrol

In the glovebox: Smints

Bound for: Oldham

Buy it because: it's Christmas

Marks out of 10: 7

Price: from £8,260