Last night me and my friend attended the Backstreet Boys DNA tour. Our seats – though at a distance, had a direct view to the stage. Would we spend hundreds to enter the VIP section? “I’d rather go on holiday” I declared. What’s actually worth the splurge?
In my early twenties, I had a penchant for luxury. Though I seldom shopped, I enjoyed treating myself to good quality. A nice coat for the winter, a fancy dress to wear on a girl’s night out. Fast fashion soon erupted and blitz my wardrobe with discounted items and cheap material. Clothes mimicked unloved vintage after a couple of wears.
As The Guardian reports, the UK government helps enable the fast fashion industry; worldwide, people believe a £5 wear-once top and cheap 2019 bikini are worth the splurge. Society promotes the idea of low investment clothing. Young people today, balance Instagram indulging aspirations with inexpensive living. According to Forbes, mental health, fitness and career development make up some of the things to spend more money on.
I’ve never paid for a therapist despite wanting to see one. I’ve become savings obsessed – constantly evaluating where my income goes and how best to keep it. I have happily bought Dior lipsticks, Guerlain bronzer and YSL blush, yearly stocking on rich textures in lavish packaging. Yet a therapist, a potential life-changing cost, hasn’t seriously crossed my mind. I’ve purchased every acne and skincare regime on the market – never booking a laser consultation.
Millennials supposedly waste earnings on takeaways, holidays and restaurants. The Spectator however, published statistics suggesting young people take saving seriously. In your twenties, you’re suppose to live life freely and create novel pages of experiences. Equally, showing a sense of astute awareness towards the housing market and early pension planning. I’m developing savvy drowsiness – when do I spend and when do I say no?
Are weddings worth the splurge? Meet and greets at iconic concerts; flower bouquets to display at home? The answer I assumed easy – invest on objects and moments that make you happy; don’t live beyond your means. Looking back on the first half of my twenties, I’m not sure I’ve successfully become money smart. The outfits I wore once and can’t remember, the holiday memorabilia and upscale restaurants. And on the flipside, instead of wasting, my mind now transcends to uncertainly over any spending.
An ex best friend of mine had a ruthless need to calculate every exchange. Meals evaluated to ensure she picked the most filling dining option; back-and-forth to clothing shops to bag the best bargains. I swore I never wanted to inherit a malt of her scrooge. What a depressing and timely way to waste life. So, I hate that an ounce of me calculates in a manner she devoured.
Worth the splurge?
A Business Insider article reported billionaires prefer making money rather than spending, which distinguishes them from millionaires. I believe marketing – perhaps unconsciously – convinces us to always assume the more we splash, the better. True in terms of quality and first-class flying and suntanning on a deck chair or comfy bed. Not always in regard to experience. Nightclub V.I.P areas usually involve sitting awkwardly and crowding round a table drinking champagne for the sake of drinking champagne. My ex-partner loved taking me to extravagant bars and London scenes, yet I usually had the most fun sipping vodka at a casual location.
Working in Harrods, I witnessed the wealthy who hated parting with their cash and the earners who woke up early for the store’s sale to afford Chanel. I’ve seen rich friends take out their partner’s credit cards without a care in the world and others who only want to model themselves in extravagance. There’s no wrong or right answer. Only the line each individual has to make – choosing the importance of what’s worth the splurge.
It’s woven to our esteem; how we want to project ourselves and overall happiness. I refuse to buy low-cost jeans and jackets, but I don’t want to invest too highly in my new hat desire. How much of our money-making decisions are impacted on our beliefs and expectations, vs what we see online? Money use to feel dirty – wrong to discuss. Last month a near stranger openly asked me what I earn.
What’s worth the splurge to me is dreams, contentment and rest. No more fast fashion and saying yes to brands simply because they offer. People no longer feel uncomfortable to share they can’t afford something or don’t want to spend income treating themselves. As a whole, we have a better attitude to money conversations.
Nonetheless, we’re also conflicted on habits. Stocking on quality over quality – fast fashion surly stems from a pure Instagram / online link? Suggesting people feel pressured by social media. If It doesn’t build my dreams, keep me going and add to my contentment, I’m going to learn to say no. Additionally learning to understand the moments to say yes.
What’s worth the splurge to you? Does outside and online pressure affect your spending habits?