What would your future-you have to say to you?
The no-pants guide to spending, saving, and thriving in the real world.
What would your future-you have to say to you?
My 30 Day Project for April is to declutter my entire house. That’s every room, every dresser, every drawer. We’ve got 12 years of jointly accumulated clutter.
Our progress so far has been wonderful. The main level of our house is almost done.
In our daughters’ room, we put in bunk beds and pulled out a dresser. With the crib, changing table, and toddler bed removed, they actually have room to play on the floor. Their closet has been emptied and repurposed as scrapbooking and blanket storage. Cost: $140 for the bunk beds.
Our son’s room has had a dresser, a desk, and a bed replaced with a loft bed. Even with the 6 foot tall monstrosity of a bed, his room looks so much bigger. We still have to clean out his closet, which is mostly artifacts of a business we no longer have, leftovers from when his bedroom was our office. Cost: $260 for the loft bed.
Our room was depressing. Never dirty, but oh-so-full. The closet was jam-packed. The top shelf was full of towels and sheets. The closet rod couldn’t fit another shirt. There was a modular shelving system on the floor of the closet–full. We had three full dressers. The headboard has 5 foot tall cabinets, half of which were full of makeup and jewelry, the other half with books. Now, there is 1 empty dresser. It belonged to my great-grandmother, so it’s going to the shop to be refinished, instead of the garage sale to be sold. Another dresser has spare room in it. There’s no need to rearrange the cabinets to get to anything. The closet is less than half full and there is almost nothing on the floor of the closet. Gear for my side-line business is stored out of sight and out of the way. This is so much more relaxing.
We’ve tackled the kitchen, except for 1 cabinet, which is mostly cookbooks and booze. That will be fun to clean out.
Our front closet was worthless. It was so full we put hooks on the outside of the door to hang our coats. We pulled out a dozen coats we never wear. At least 20 pairs of shoes, some belonging to roommates gone 1o years. We can actually use the closet now. The shoes and boots all have homes. Our coats all fit…inside.
We have 1 closet and 1 cabinet left to address on the main level. There are also 3 small rooms in the basement that need to be gutted–the laundry room, the family room, and a room that has been designated for storage and the litter box. The last one will be the hardest. It’s full of remnants of hobbies past and failed ventures. I’m expecting some fights, flowing every possible direction.
In the process, we’ve filled our dining room with stuff for our garage sale…twice. It’s all getting priced and boxed as we go through it. We thrown away anything we won’t be able to sell. We’ve done all of this with the mutual understanding that nothing is coming back in the house. After the sale, it will be donated or sold on Craigslist, but it won’t become a part of our lives again. We are successfully purging so much. The “skinny clothes” are gone. When the time comes, they’ll be replaced. In the meantime, they can be put to better use on someone else. Hobbies that never took, games that are never played, it’s all going. We are getting down to the things that are actually used and useful.
It’s interesting to note that the process is getting easier as the month goes by. My Mother-in-Law is a hoarder. Those habits get passed down, but what was originally a source of stress has turned into a pleasant chore.
The most wonderful discovery of all? It turns out we don’t need a better storage system, we just need less stuff.
Update: This post has been included in the Money Hacks Carnival.
How do you answer a question like “What are things you never go cheap on and why?”. Think about it – the question cuts with mischievous delight into your personally held biases towards common purchases. Not only does the question force self-reflection, it’s really asking you, “What are you purchasing that you know you can save money on, if only you tossed your biases out the window?”. Devilish indeed!
A little about myself. I’m a software engineer in Silicon Valley (an area of land roughly defined as San Mateo and Santa Clara counties in California), married, no kids, and a home-owner. I also write for (and run) the web site Don’t Quit Your Day Job… when my day job is through for the… um… day.
How to Spend Money You Don’t Really Need To!
I have a confession to make: when it comes to dress shirts, I never go cheap. Dress shirts in general aren’t closely associated with my industry, or California in general – you’re more likely to find college t-shirts and flip flops than dress shirts and cap toe bluchers. However, growing up outside of Boston, Massachusetts, I think I had a fair amount of Puritan formalism instilled in my dress style!
In my closet I have approximately 25 to 30 dress shirts. The most common label you’ll find is Brooks Brothers, followed by Joseph A. Banks (JAB runs yearlong sales, so it’s best to wait for the shirts to be marked down). I’ve got a few shirts from the Jermyn Street shirtmakers. I also have some MTM (made to measure) shirts – the highlight of my wardrobe, but I’m ashamed to admit their cost is in the triple digits after shipping. Wearing one of those also means my wife cracks yuppie jokes all day.
Here’s even more about me: I’m 5’10” and have a 42” chest and a 31” waist. If you know men’s clothing, you know those are silly proportions for buying off the rack clothing, but a 17-32 ‘fits’ me (the shoulders are in the right place). To translate – that shirt has a 17″ neck opening and 32″ sleeves, measured from the middle of the back. Even with a cheaper shirt, I could just pay $12 to my Tailor to bring in the waist and pull up the baggage in the chest area and under the arms. Of course, that’s how I justify the MTM portion of my wardrobe – the stitches are perfect when the shirt is made for your actual proportions. Even the ‘slim’ fits sold in store don’t come close to fitting someone like me.
Justifying An Expensive Habit
If there is anything to be said about the labels I pick – they last. Every MTM shirt I’ve had made for me is still going strong. The Jermyn Street, Brooks Brothers and Joseph A. Banks shirt also last a long time. When I have bought cheap shirts in the past, they rarely last longer than a year – and I am meticulous about hanging the shirts to dry. By that measure, the expensive shirts I wear are only expensive when it comes to initial costs – but by the end of their useful life their cost per wear is much less than the inferior quality shirts. Also, since I’m getting it tailored anyway (like I said, a fixed cost), I want any shirt that I bother tailoring to last as long as physically possible.
Of course, my line of reasoning requires my proportions to stay the same. I do build in a tiny bit of extra room when I get shirts tailored, but a significant shift in weight means a (expensive) new wardrobe.
Where to Economize if You Want Quality Shirts
It’s pretty obvious where you can save money (short of tailoring shirts yourself or finding a cheaper Tailor – I’ve had mixed results with those options). In fact, the most important quote is staring us in the face – “If there is anything to be said about the labels I pick – they last.” Yes, they last long enough that a used shirt isn’t a significant decrease in quality from a new shirt. That means, if you’re like me, you can buy used shirts on eBay, Craigslist, or in a Thrift Store. Wash it well and your Tailor won’t even know the difference!
So, what do you think? I’ve never considered myself part of the frugal crowd so I turn the mic to you: Should I cut out my expensive habit, or did I somehow convince you I’m not burning my money?
PKamp3 is a writer for Don’t Quit Your Day Job… Enlightened Discussion of Personal Finance, Economics, Politics and the Offbeat for the Night and Weekend Crowd. He also loves expensive shirts to the consternation of a certain subset of his readers.
One of my biggest problems with maintaining a goal is follow-through. Three weeks or six months into pursuing a goal, it becomes incredibly easy to rationalize setbacks. If my back hurts, it’s easy to skip some sit-ups. If a custom knife maker offers me a good deal, it’s easy to drop a significant part of my discretionary budget on a really nice knife. The rationalizations come pouring in when I see a good deal on Amazon. “I need to read that book” or “I’ve been waiting for the move forever.” The excuses don’t matter. As long as they are coming in, I will eventually cave to my inner impulse demon. How do I avoid that?
I try to make myself accountable to as many people as possible. At the beginning of the year, I posted my 30 Day Projects here, for the world to see. I post updates on a regular basis. Admitting my failure with the sit-ups was surprisingly difficult. I made myself accountable and fell short. That’s hard. Thankfully, none of you came around with a sjambok to make me regret my slip-up. When I was doing push-ups, my wife was more than willing to let me know when I slipped into bad form to try to squeeze out a few more before I collapsed. I count on that.
I count on my wife to help me stay on the right path. Eliminating our debt is easily the longest goal either of us have ever set for ourselves. Mutual support and mutual accountability are our main methods to maintain that goal. It is, after all, a marathon, not a sprint. When I want to buy more cookware, she reminds me that we already have something to serve the purpose. When she wants to buy the kids new jammies, I remind her that they have more than can fit in their dressers already. Neither of us are afraid to tell the other to return bad purchases to the store if it’s not in our budget. When we go shopping, we go through everything in the cart before we get to the checkout, to decide if we really need everything we picked up. We support each other.
If I couldn’t make myself accountable to my wife, my family, my friends, and–last, but certainly not least–the three people reading this, I would fold in the face of my marshaled rationalizations and leave my goals in the oft-regretted gutter. Thanks for that.
How do you keep yourself on track?
Update: This post has been included in the Money Hackers Carnival.
Do you know where you shop regularly?
Would you be happy if the things you bought there were suddenly, magically discounted?
It could happen.
I don’t think the game store down the road is suddenly going to institute a “Jason Rocks” discount program, but some of the bigger chains I visit have an unofficial option that can save you money, and it’s not a five-finger discount.
You can buy discounted gift cards. You can find a gift card exchange being run on a number of websites. How does it work?
There are two kinds of card exchange.
The first simply connects buyers and sellers. If you want to buy a gift card, you browse the list of available cards until you find something you like. You place your order with the exchange, who then take a fee and pass the rest of the payment to the seller, who’s got the job of sending it to you. When you get the card, you get to find out if the balance still exists or if it’s going to expire in the morning. Most people don’t sell a lot of gift cards, so their reputation isn’t really at stake. Avoid these, unless you like gambling.
The second kind of exchange actually buys the cards from the sellers and verifies the balance and expiration date before posting them for sale. When you go shopping, you’re dealing with a company that is putting its reputation–both with its customers and its bank–on the line. If there’s a problem, you’ve got someone to contact who probably isn’t going to vanish.
You visit the site, find a business you want to visit, and buy a card at a discount. The discount ranges from around 3% up to around 30%, with most discounts hovering around 10%. That means–depending on the store–you can get a $100 gift card for $90. Not a bad deal, especially if it for a store you’d be visiting anyway.
Have you ever bought a second-hand gift card? How did it work for you?
At some point, everyone has “champagne wishes and caviar dreams.” Over the last 25 years, we’ve even been peddled the “you can have it all” myth from every direction, including the media and the government.
The truth is simple: you cannot have it all. You can have anything, but you can’t have everything. In order to have one thing, you have to give up something else. It’s a law of nature. If you have $5, you can either get a burger or an overpriced cup of coffee, but not both.
“But wait!” you shout, rudely interrupting the narrator, “I have a credit card. I can have both!”
Wrong.
And stop interrupting me.
If you have $5 and borrow $5 to get some coffee to go with your burger, you will eventually have to pay that money back with interest. You will have to give up a future-burger AND a flavor shot in your overpriced coffee.
Everything you buy needs to be paid for, some day.
If you have an Atari income, but insist on living the XBox life, you will wake up one day, buried in bills, forced to live the Commodore-64 life out of sheer desperation.
There is a solution.
Don’t get all XBox-y until you are making XBox money. That way, you’ll never have to worry about going broke tomorrow paying for the fun you had yesterday.
Even when you have an XBox income, ideally you’ll restrict yourself to living a Gamecube life, so you’ll be able to put some money aside to support future-you instead of constantly having to worry about your next paycheck.