I must admit I used to belong to that first category. I began my shopping in July and had it all done, wrapped and tagged by late October. Then I would smugly let my friends know, dodging flying missiles as I was "unfriended" in an old-fashioned way. At that point I was usually crossed off their Christmas card lists.
Now I've joined the real world. I think I can blame the change on having grandchildren. After a few trips back to stores, receipts clutched firmly in hand, to make exchanges, I began to form a different view of Christmas gift buying. In our modern culture, a gift of a CD (pretty much already gone the way of the dodo) by a singer who was their absolute fave in July was at the bottom of the list by Christmas morning. Any other element of pop culture came and went on waves of fashion so quickly I couldn't keep up. A coveted book would be read on a friend's Kindle, an article of clothing wanted in July now spoiled when worn by a rival. And so on.
I caved. Now, I'm with the ranks of frazzled shoppers, flooding the stores for last minute bargains and searching for none-left-on-the-shelf items. I've even resorted to gift cards. They may not have the panache of a wrapped present, but the teenagers on your list will raise your ranking level amongst family members if they can choose their own. I know it's a cop-out, but it sure relieves Christmas Gift Stress Syndrome.
All these years I've scoffed at those Christmas Eve shoppers—mostly confused, distressed, husbands and boyfriends—and now I've finally figured out they had it right all along.