Spare the Latte, Spoil the Day

Babble.com’s editors yesterday posted, in the spirit of its “economics” issue, “15 Money-Saving Tips” designed to help you “replace your expensive habits with cheap ones.” Nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. People are broke. We all have to cut corners, be a little more resourceful, a little more prudent. I get it. Some of the tips merit little more than an eye roll for their utter lack of ingenuity and creativity (ever thought of having a “movie night” at home instead of heading to the megaplex? Gosh, me neither.) Others I can’t say I would ever have dreamed up but certainly might save a few bucks here or there, though I somehow doubt that buying, chopping and mixing my own nuts, Xanax, and blueberries to add to generic cereal in an effort to mimic the fine taste of various, over-priced Captain Winterberry Rainbow Harvest concoctions is, actually, going to save me enough dough to justify the effort. But I largely prefer sitting on my ass and picking at my cuticles to being in the kitchen, so go figure.

Other suggestions are rather dubious, as in – Avoid the malls! Get gifts at Etsy! Handmade for all! Uh, in case you haven’t visited Etsy lately, well-meaning but slightly misguided Babble editors, let me make an observation here. To wit: a$68 shredded cloth napkin “Rosy Posy Neck Cozy” to keep one’s neck toasty and, cleverly enough, substitute for bondage-lite gear in a pinch. I mean, it is from the creator’s “urban prairie” line and designed to make poor suburban bumpkins look as “cutting edge” as their sleek urban counterparts, and it does have a (definitely unadvertised) dual purpose but people, please. If I want to give someone an urban prairie/cutting edge/shredded neck “cozy”, I’d just hack up my furry black scarf, circa 1990. Or, I could just give a beloved a gift that doesn’t, you know, suck.. There’s that. There’s also lots and lots of beautiful stuff on Etsy, I know. I’m not trying to bag the site; I’ve purchased quite a few lovelies myself. Like Mr. Toastee, for example. He (she? it?) is a crocheted – get ready – piece of bread with a “pat o’ butter on his tummy”, complete with “removable” hat and jacket and almost as cutting edge as the urban prairie neck cozy/bondage gear.. And all for the bargain price of $25. As the seller herself (yummypancakes, I’m sorry. Truly. I’m really not trying to rag on you, babe, just needed an example) notes, you might, perhaps give Mr. Toastee to someone special, someone really, really special . . . or, you could keep him (she? it?) for your very own self. But that would be just plain greedy. And to do, exactly, what with is unfathomable, but still – he’s a bargain, folks! Or, you could just burn $25, record the experience, and YouTube it for the lucky recipient.

The bottom line, though, is simply this: yes, perhaps we should all be looking out for ways to cut expenses. Looking to be more mindful and ethical consumers. But I’m so over being told to replace my little extravagances with “cheap” or “practical” alternatives. The extravagances make my day special and, sometimes, simply bearable. I don’t want to brew shitty, bargain-bin coffee, wait for it to brew, pack it up in a thermos, and tote it to work with me. I want my fast, hot, and tasty coffeehouse chai. I want it, even from Starbucks (That’s right. What of it?) And I don’t want to buy frozen meals to replace fresh take-out, or buy an exercise video I’ll never use to replace the class at the gym I enjoy – and go to. Or did, before life, baby, etc. I mean, I would enjoy the spin class I used to go to more than the exercise video that I won’t use. And, let’s be honest, neither will you. Replacing every little luxury, every tiny but decadent experience that gets many of us through 18-hour days with colorless, cardboard copies of the real deal might save us a bit of dough – even a lot – but it won’t do much to save our spirits, get us closer to that looming deadline or through yet another dreaded project, teacher conference, unbearable commute, endless day of dieting. Through the Groundhog Dayness of daily life. Andee McDowell and Bill Murray understood this. You can keep that 50 bucks a week you save and stew about how unbearable it’s all becoming while you sweat it out with Richard Simmons, test your palate with Budget Gourmet, and schlep your cold cup ‘o joe in your daughter’s pink Hello Kitty thermos (which she needs that back, by the way, since they’re banning bottled water at her school. Carbon footprints and all, you know). I’ll be the one leaving Starbucks with a steaming chai in hand, credit card bill to be reviewed hater stuffed in that purse that I didn’t really need but loved far too much to pass up . . . and I won’t be doing it with my panties in a wad and a sneer, thank you very much.

***No Etsy sellers were physically harmed in the making of this blog.