Frugal February: Daily habits.
This one's for the budgeters.
I use the word luxury a lot when describing the sort of wardrobe I am trying to create, and the word often comes up when I think about cultivating other aspects of my life; however, I use the word for its emotive context more than, say, its price point or 'elite' status.
And that's just as well, because there's very little surplus cash available, at the moment.
So rather than view luxury as something external that I need to seek out and own, I view it as an element that already resides inside every moment - if I only allow myself the opportunity to access it.
This is a way to tap into a luxurious life, without having to spend a lot of money.
This mindset has been heavily complimented, and influenced, by the discipline of my partner, whose approach to spending is fairly simple: He doesn't do it.
Where I used to spend my life bouncing off the walls of consumerism, I have now drifted into happiness on my own.
Frugal luxury
It's a bit of a mindset, luxury; and frugal luxury even moreso. For me it's about finessing simplicity, to create a viable pathway to the enjoyment that resides in the present, already; lessening the tendency to feel that special moments and experiences are to be accessed externally.
When you shift from one set of circumstances to another, as I have done financially, frugal luxury is necessary to turn off the feeling of being deprived.
This is how I work on combating the effects of the world's message, that fulfilment can't be found in the here and now without consuming and pursuing more.
An example of this comes from an observation my partner made a few years ago at the beach, regarding the pervasiveness with which people appeared to carry around takeaway coffees.
Whether sitting or walking, it was harder to spot someone without a coffee cup in their hand, than it was with one, and so, it would appear, that most people felt a need to enhance the experience of the beach via consumerism.
Of course, I believe we should allow everyone to reach appreciation and fulfilment of experiences on their own terms; which is why the coffee and ice cream loving individual deep inside me cannot discriminate against those who feel compelled to purchase a cone, or cup, on a visit to the beach. We are, after all, creatures of association, pattern and habit.
But this is the first example of something I don't spend money on.
People say that it's not the $5 here, or $20 there, that set you back on your financial goals, but I disagree, based on my own experience. The tendency to believe these isolated, small-change expenditures exist as one-off, infrequent spends is without acknowledging that, like anything, we start to become desensitised.
The $6 ice cream at the beach starts out as a seemingly benign, one-off treat; but pretty soon, it cultivates the habit of repeating that enjoyment every time we go to the beach. It's the pattern. The association.
The expectation.
We forget what we truly went there for. And if we only went there for an excuse to get an ice cream, then we aren't truly there for the beach, are we?
This has been a big mindset shift, for me, and a practise in discipline, frugality, and interbeing. The beach is there for me, but am I there for the beach? Is it not enough to enjoy the beach for all that it is is - a perfect opportunity to step away from consumerism?
For my family of three, on a shoestring budget, an ice cream accompaniment would set us back $18, just to enjoy what the cosmos created for free. Why should someone profit from my desire to connect with nature?
I'm happy enough to go home at the end of the experience and give it a second chance at life through delayed gratification. How? By making my own frozen treat at home, for a fraction of the cost.
In my former life, I was not exempt from purchasing a cup of coffee, and sitting down by the beach. The only thing separating myself from the rest was my lack of ponytail, baseball cap, and yoga clothes. (I can't say I've ever seen the appeal in wearing yoga clothes to anything that isn't yoga-related, but that's another blog!)
But I don't spend money on store-bought coffees, anymore, either.
Frugality is subjective.
Coffee, in and of itself, is a luxury. I find it easier to experience that luxury when I enjoy it with a single other person, in a quiet space, and from a glass or mug, than I do from a paper cup with a plastic lid, amidst the chaos of a cafe, where conversation competes with the clack of heels, the squeal of stools, and the general hub of everybody else's voice. And that's without the inflated prices of a single soy latte. Some places charge an additional dollar just for the plant-based milk. This is where mindset comes in.
A 'posh' coffee is what I often called a store-bought coffee. That was the luxurious option, once upon a time.
But they started to very quickly become my default. Every single morning, at work, I would go to the cafe in the lobby, and buy a coffee.
For years.
And it did serve its purpose - mostly as a way to take a moment and connect with fellow humans.
But as circumstances have changed, so too has my opinion about whether or not that's a viable pathway to a luxurious experience. I now know, a luxurious experience involves all five senses; and I can access those for free.
Much like the coffees and ice creams at the beach, I had started to condition myself to believe that I needed to go somewhere, and buy something, in order to have the right conditions to connect with others.
Why can we not sit somewhere and talk without the need to consume?
It's just not a done thing, anymore.
Of course, I still meet people for coffee out at cafes; but this is always a one-off, special circumstance.
And I deeply enjoy it for the rarity that it is.
At home, I buy coffee beans. After extensive research, I found the cheapest option, which are organically grown and locally produced, and from start to finish it's a ritual of creating one of my favourite drinks.
And don't conflate frugal with cheap. This is a common error, and one I made repeatedly for a very long time.
Coffee beans are not 'cheap.' Not like a pack of instant for less than a few dollars.
I did want to spend as little as possible, but in order to stick to this frugal alternative to purchasing espresso, it needed to be luxurious enough to commit.
So, some end-user, taste-testing from local roasters was certainly invited to our kitchen, and we made a discerning choice about what we liked best.
For the same price as approximately 3.5 cups of coffee per week from a cafe, I have a pack of freshly roasted beans placed in my letterbox, with no additional packaging, and no need to leave my house to get them. This also provides my partner and I anywhere from 2-3 coffees per day, each, for a week; and even then, we don't get through the entire bag of beans. That's the frugal piece.
The luxury?
Coffee whenever we want it.
The incomparable scent of ground coffee beans, in the kitchen.
Our preferred method of grind and preparation depending on our mood.
Find the ways in which you can extend your joy from something simple.
The way the ceramic feels in your hand. Noticing the human touch of a slightly irregular, hand turned clay mug.
The sound of tearing open a bag of coffee beans, and the fragrant vapours when ground.
And of course, the taste of an espresso, or pour over, or cafetière - far superior to instant.
Is anything instant truly luxurious, I wonder?
Feeling connected.
Much like the special circumstances with which I will indulge in a store-bought coffee, I will also look forward to meeting someone for a meal.
But it is rare, and reserved for special occasions.
Yesterday we went to the markets, which is a hub of locals who craft beautiful, artesian food and crafts. I asked my partner if he wanted to get something to eat, and he said he would rather not spend the money and instead enjoy the atmosphere and have something from home, afterwards.
"I could spend money at some of these stalls, and it would be nice; but I could potentially not spend the money on fried food, coffee and other things I can enjoy at home, and maybe one day the money I haven't spent on these things will be enough to buy something like that motorbike, over there."
I cast another eye across the crowds, as the hub of humanity spread out around us, sunburned, spending, and happy, and I felt the same way.
We have exceptional coffee at home, that we've already paid for.
We have a kitchen full of local, organic produce, that we've already paid for; (grown by the same individuals at the stalls!) With that, we watched the enjoyment the markets brought to others, and enjoyed them for what they had the capacity to bring.
You can be connected without having to spend.
I try not to be shocked when people spend $14 for some 'smashed' (I hate that word in this context) avocado on toast.
Two pieces of toast, a scraping of butter, and probably a half avocado, let's be honest, smashed with a fork.
It's toast! Why does it cost $14?!
Frugality doesn't have to mean deprivation.
I always bring food with me when I'm going to be away from home for any length of time.
Sushi was previously a luxurious lunch to enjoy in the office, but now it's about $14 for a tray, and even then you don't get to select your own; you have to simply roll with whichever combination they've popped inside those environmental killing, plastic containers they insist on churning out, like a full-blown factory line.
It isn't luxurious to eat out of plastic, is it?
Once I discovered making my own sushi, and how infinitely cheaper it is, I have never looked back. If I want sushi, I make it myself.
I'll be honest, when I first decided I was done with equating socialising with food, I was afraid that I may never have lunch with my friends again. But when I was honest about my circumstances and approach to spending, I discovered that my friends were more than willing to accommodate me. Of course they were, they're my friends!
I have regular lunches, (and coffee dates), with my friends and colleagues, and we enjoy sitting somewhere I can bring my lunch from home, and they can eat whatever they've bought.
Being frugal doesn't have to cost you anything.
Additionally, mindfulness really helps with the discipline of bringing your own food with you, when you go to work or even out and about. There's an eating meditation that one can apply, and no one need know you're doing it. It's taught with a single tangerine, and how to use your five senses to enjoy it to its fullest potential.
We can train our minds to see the luxury within a single piece of fruit, just as nature intended.
Cheap vs frugal
Conflating cheap with frugal is a common error. I'll be the first to state that I typically do not buy cheap things. In fact, a lot of my belongings are likely to be considered rather expensive. But it's because I don't spend money on other things that I can buy a leather backpack for my laptop, for example.
The frugality here is in the quantity, not the price.
I don't have multiple laptop bags, or backpacks.
I only have one. I wanted that one to be the best one I could afford.
Some people might consider what I spent on fabric for a winter coat, frivolous. Some may maintain that position on the matter even after learning I saved for over a year to buy the material. And some may still feel it's frivolous, despite it being a one-off, one-time only expense.
And that is all fine, and normal.
Frugality is subjective. Subjective and sensitive, even.
I think my most poignant example of being frugal and luxurious, but not at all cheap, is with the current sewing project I have going. I've always dreamed of owning a wool, winter coat, but the price points are always such that I just can't attain one. I'm talking about an almost full length, 100% pure wool coat with a 100% pure silk lining.
Very luxurious indeed.
These coats typically cost hundreds - even if they're a wool blend (acrylic); and many are above the thousand dollar mark. And so, I decided to make my own.
It took me longer than a year to save up the money for the fabric, as I said. Unfortunately, I overestimated the amount required, so I actually spent more than I needed to. (Considerably more, let's just say that.) But it's better than underestimating the amount required, so I've chosen to let that go.
I've tried to work out how much of what I purchased was used in the coat, and have broken down the costs accordingly, (and approximately):
$91.80 for the wool exterior
$104.40 for the silk lining.
$43.20 for the silk organza interlining
This was over the course of a year. I had the wool exterior for about 6 months before I had anything else to put with it.
In the final 6 months I was able to get the silks, respectively.
If I had chosen to forego the interlining, (organza), it would've been even less still; and just as luxurious. But I wanted the coat to have the handmade, couture construction, and so I decided it was a drop in the ocean to add a little more to the price, a little longer to the wait-time, and for a coat that truly would be worth it all.
But could I buy one for $239.40? Not full length, and certainly not 100% wool and silk, no.
A blended fabric? Perhaps. But it certainly wouldn't be handmade, or made-to-measure.
So, frugality is subjective. I don't have any other coats in my possession, and I refused to buy one knowing I wanted to make my own, so I decided I was not going to spend extra by buying anything in the interim.
It's not a 'cheap' project, but I cannot tell you the sheer joy I feel at having achieved this task myself; and that it is exactly as I dreamed of.
I feel like my [one and only] coat is definitely a frugal luxury.
Below you will find a list of common expenses that I don't pay for. This works for me and my environment and lifestyle... certainly it's not a guide for everyone else. Our budgets shouldn't be fixed or based on anybody else's examples. This is just for those who find it interesting to know what people do and don't spend money on.
I like to read these sorts of things, myself!
And below that, are the breakdowns of costs for ice cream and sushi - made from home, vs store-bought.
Luxuries I don't spend money on.
Store-bought food and beverages / dining out. (Exceptions made, here and there.)
Manicures/pedicures.
Hair and/or makeup services.
Facials/treatments.
Massages.
Candles, ornaments or anything scented for a room.
Gym memberships or clubs, or anything fitness related. See my blog here
Below are the breakdown costs, for serious budgeters.
For the budgeters - buying an ice cream out v making it ourselves.
Costs of making a plant-based, frozen treat at home:
Frozen berries = $7.40/500g bag. ($0.74/100g.)
Frozen banana = $0.93 each.
To make a frozen, sorbet-esq treat for all of us, I would use 100G of frozen berries, with a frozen banana. Sometimes, we just have a banana one. That is our favourite, but for the point of this exercise, I'll compare the berry. Like for like.
It's approximately $1.67 to make a frozen berry sorbet at home, for 3 people. (2 adults and 1 small child.)
Cost of buying 3 small berry sorbets from a store: $18 approx. ($6/scoop = a kids size, not a standard single.)
For the budgeters - buying sushi out v making it ourselves.
Costs of making sushi at home:
Sushi rice = $3.89/kg ($0.34 approx. per/100g.)
Nori sheets = $3.39 for 10 sheets. ($0.34 per sheet.)
Pickled ginger = $3.20 for 150g
Soy sauce = $3.90/550ml bottle ($0.71/100ml)
Rice vinegar = $6/360ml bottle ($1.66/100ml)
The sushi rice packet has 10 servings, and we follow the directions from the bag; so we use 100g of rice for all of us.
$0.34
We use about 4 sheets of nori when we make rolls for a family meal.
$1.36
The little sushi 'fish' you get in a tray holds approximately 3mls. We likely use more soy sauce than that, but for the sake of this exercise, let's assume we all get one little fish in our imaginary tray, each.
$0.07
I don't know how much ginger we use, or what they put in a tray, so I'm going to use the serving suggestion on the tub.
That happens to be 6 servings, so we would use half a tub for one meal.
$1.60
We use 80ml of sushi rice vinegar.
$1.33
Now, the fillings. We don't consume fish, so ours is a plant-based sushi option. These are based on the prices purely at the time of writing this blog.
1 avocado $1.80
1 capsicum $1.90
1/3 cucumber $0.73
1 carrot $0.30
The grand total of making sushi for three people, (2 adults and 1 small child), comes to a grand total of:
=$9.43
The cost of purchasing 3 vegetarian trays of prepacked sushi, with admittedly differing ingredients and quantities:
=$35 approximately. (2.5 x $14 tray, which is the cost at the place where I work.)
That's nearly 4 times as expensive.
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