Scrimping and saving and missing Crunch Wrap Supremes
Lifestyle creep comes for all of us
I spent $172 at the dry cleaners last week.
(Did you just hear a thump? That was Ken falling out of his chair when he read how much I spent on dry cleaning. But I digress.)
The bill covered the cleaning of 12 sweaters, a dress, a pair of slacks, and a shawl. I justified the expense because it would cost me a whole lot more to replace my sweaters if they were to get moth holes, and it’s not like I can throw my wool slacks in the washer/dryer. Two months ago I wouldn’t have thought twice about the expense. Now it makes my stomach hurt.
I mentioned last week that since leaving my job I’m stressed about money, and it’s a feeling I haven’t had in a while. Over the past seven years, my salary has increased fairly significantly as I jumped from my job at Refinery29 to CNBC and then to Fortune, and I was pretty well paid, at least in media terms. I enjoyed the money and the feeling of freedom and comfort it offered. While we still kept our expenses pretty low, the truth is: Lifestyle creep comes for everyone.
Lifestyle creep, for the uninitiated, is the idea that as you make more money, you spend more money. You buy a bigger home or a fancier car or take more elaborate vacations. My friend Alicia has covered this topic in her great newsletter Money Moves, where she talked about how we need to stop making people feel bad about spending more as they make more, because oftentimes it’s just small things, like a better mattress or plush toilet paper or a nicer pair of shoes. Most people aren’t going out to buy flashy SUVs to keep up with their neighbors.
Lifestyle creep looks different for everyone. For Ken, it’s meant buying more band t-shirts when he goes to concerts (he may have the best ska t-shirt collection on the Eastern Seaboard), and I was shocked when he came home from a show one night and told me he paid to check his coat.
But while Ken might have simple tastes, I’ll admit that I’ve leaned into spending some of my hard-earned money (while also putting a lot into savings and investment accounts and maxing out my 401(k)). As I’ve earned more, it’s been really nice to not worry about paying for things I want, whether it’s $500 for Bruce Springsteen tickets or $30 for a Blue Ribbon sushi lunch.
But when you go from a two-income household to one person bringing home the bacon, you inevitably have to reconsider how much you spend on bacon.
“You’re poor now,” my friend teased me one afternoon, when I declined an invite to spend an afternoon with her at the QC NY Spa on Governors Island. And while I’m far from poor, the truth is, I’m having a moment where I have to be incredibly mindful of my spending. And honestly, it’s uncomfortable!