The new frugality? I know all about the new frugality.
The global financial crisis is causing all sorts of people to change their spending habits. High-powered executives are –- shock, horror –- flying first class instead of taking the corporate jet, while their wives and mistresses are being forced to cut back on spending.
Everybody has their own strategy. Some cut out luxuries altogether or trade down — in the UK sales of organic produce have plummeted; others substitute cheaper brands for more expensive ones, while a few pretend that nothing has changed and carry on as they did before. (Interestingly, sales of lipstick always go up in recessions; it’s a cheaper way to feel glamorous than buying a dress or a pair of shoes.)
My own spending habits have changed dramatically over the last year. Obviously, moving to Australia had an impact. I don’t own — or at least pay the bank to pretend I own — a car, for instance, and my biggest monthly expense is rent rather than rates and taxes. But there have been changes in less obvious ways. For instance, the other evening, I found myself with some time to kill while I waited to meet a friend after work. It was a Friday and the atmosphere was almost festive as workers anticipated the weekend. I was hungry and depressed and frankly, I felt, I could do with a drink.
So I did the unthinkable and sat at one of the restaurants that surround Circular Quay. It’s not the sort of thing I do at all. The bill for two white wine spritzers and a chicken and mushroom crepe (one of the cheapest things on the menu) came to $40, including a tip that was, in retrospect, far too generous — $40 translates to around R260 at the current exchange rate and this was the cheapest restaurant on the quay.
That’s a lot of money for one person, but then Sydney is a stupendously expensive city and I won’t do it again in a hurry.
It struck me how, in Johannesburg, I probably would not have thought twice about that meal. It would have cost around R60 in most places, if that. In Joburg, I never balked at buying a cup of coffee. Now, I seldom watch a movie, and if I do, it’s on the half price day. Living alone –- for the moment — tends to accentuate this behaviour. After all, what’s the point of sitting in a coffee shop, reading a newspaper, when I could just as easily do this at home? In Joburg, I often splashed out on flowers, in Sydney, I’ve bought them once — tulips were on special at $5. I photographed them and they’re the wallpaper on my phone, just to get maximum value out of them.
Of course, I’ve cut back on clothing and shoes. I did buy some items from the Edgars sale, which worked out as substantially cheaper than anything in Australia, there were the R35 Kaizer Chiefs and R45 Orlando Pirates takkies. Comfortable and nobody else around here has a pair.
There are things on which I am prepared to spend plenty — $2100 on a replacement for my stolen laptop, for example. It’s a fat chunk of cash, but I simply can’t work without a computer. Ditto for the prepaid internet access ($129 for the USB modem and $149 for 12GB, which can be used over 365 days. I did my research before I shelled out).
I wonder how many others have cut back on their spending. Of course most people haven’t lost their jobs and with low interest rates some retailers are betting that some consumers will still shop till they drop. Australian department store Myer has just revealed that it will be doubling its marketing budget for the next three months, a risky move, but one that might well pick up any of those consumers who are willing to spend.
In the last three months I have bought two MacBooks from them (the first one, which was stolen in Joburg, and its replacement), so they’ve done pretty well out of me, thank you. This is perhaps just as well, because at this rate, I won’t be darkening their doors any time soon.