Last week, the collective Internet lost its mind when New York Times columnist David Brooks tweeted a picture of his dinner—a sad-looking hamburger, fries, and whiskey—with the caption: “This meal just cost me $78 at Newark Airport. This is why Americans think the economy is terrible.” Brooks was dragged when it came out that his bill was so high because of the cost of the bourbon he ordered—the burger and fries, it was later reported, was only around $17.
No doubt Brooks is making well beyond the national real median household income of $74,580. Hell, there’s a good chance he was traveling for work and able to expense that dinner. But it’s easy to imagine a family of four sitting down to a meal at the same restaurant and dropping $100 on four crummy burgers and soft drinks. While most days I’m loath to defend Brooks, I do think a lot of us feel a range of emotions as we watch prices continue to rise on nearly everything we consume, while our incomes simply do not keep pace. Plus, it’s such a bummer to spend so much on dinner out when the food is mediocre at best. And at an airport, where you’re a captive audience, there’s not usually any good, affordable choices.
In late August, my friend Laura texted me with a thought starter: At what point do you price out?
She gave me the example of her hairdresser. For years, Laura spent $120 to get her hair cut. Then the salon increased the price to $125. In 2021, the prices went up again to $145, and in the spring of 2023, it reached $165. This summer, when Laura went in for a cut, the price was $170. Throw in tax and tip, and it’s more than $225. “I love my hairdresser, but I think I’m out,” she texted.
“It’s sad, I feel like my income didn’t keep growing at a fast enough pace,” she wrote. “When I first started getting a $120 haircut in my late 20s, it felt like an indulgence!”
A decade later, it still feels like an indulgence. But now with a kid and other financial priorities, it’s harder for Laura to justify the expense.