I enjoyed this article which explores how the rapidly expanding cult of frugality, born out of the recession, seems likely to persist through the recovery. Consumer spending is still stunted in comparison to economy-wide growth, and savings rates are still considerably higher than before the recession.
The most interesting tidbit from the article, I thought, was the data concerning luxury spending. High-end retailers are making bank as the economy begins to normalize, "Nordstrom's revenue in stores open at least one year jumped 16.8 percent last month. Saks' surged 12.7 percent."
The author attributes this to wealthy consumers feeling more comfortable spending again, but I wonder if the cult of frugality could itself be a contributor. The frugality and simple-living blogs extol the virtues of buying quality, not quantity, especially in regards to clothing. (It's a message I've taken to heart. I buy mostly second hand, but I'm buying the cast-offs of Nordstrom's and Saks' shopping sprees.)
Is my hypothesis totally off the wall? Has the recession (or whatever inspired your frugal journey) altered your relationship with luxury goods? Are you more or less likely to buy "quality"?
Monday, May 3, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The Greatest Compliment
(I hope that this post will let you know a little more about me, my background, and my personal aspirations)
A few weeks ago I received the most amazing compliment. It came from my dad.
My dad is a born-and-raised farmer and almost every stereotype that goes along with that. His wardrobe consists of three flannel shirts, two pairs of overalls, and a well-worn set of workboots. He could easily live off of naught but the fruit of the earth, and in reality is not far from it. But he's also intellectually curious, studious, well-traveled, and culturally adventurous. You'll believe me when I say, he's my hero.
Unfortunately, he went deaf when I was 9 years old. For most of my life, he's used email to communicate with our very large immediate family (I'm the youngest of nine kids) that's spread out across the globe. Every few days he sends out funny little emails about life on the farm (now a distant and exotic memory for most of us) or links to news article with glib asides.
A recent email he sent out to the whole gang was an article entitled Study: Happiness Is Experiences, Not Stuff. His comment was "Hey, we have known that for a long time haven't we, AMD?” (*Gasp!*, that’s me!)
Now, this man must well recall my teenage bedroom, overflowing with clothes. He could never forget my constant petitions for money during college. But I'm so flattered that he's also noticed the careful transition I've been making for the past several years. He's seen me as an adult living well below my means in order to be able to pursue my professional and intellectual passions. He's knows that my greatest expenses by far are my annual or biannual trips to Latin America, a region he taught me love, whose primary language he taught me to speak.
I'm still beginning my journey of learning to live simply but with passion, but it's so gratifying to know that my efforts are noticed.
Have you made (or are you making) a transition to simple living? How do your friends and family respond? I know many of us are bombarded with nay-saying, but have you received any validation that really hit home?
A few weeks ago I received the most amazing compliment. It came from my dad.
My dad is a born-and-raised farmer and almost every stereotype that goes along with that. His wardrobe consists of three flannel shirts, two pairs of overalls, and a well-worn set of workboots. He could easily live off of naught but the fruit of the earth, and in reality is not far from it. But he's also intellectually curious, studious, well-traveled, and culturally adventurous. You'll believe me when I say, he's my hero.
Unfortunately, he went deaf when I was 9 years old. For most of my life, he's used email to communicate with our very large immediate family (I'm the youngest of nine kids) that's spread out across the globe. Every few days he sends out funny little emails about life on the farm (now a distant and exotic memory for most of us) or links to news article with glib asides.
A recent email he sent out to the whole gang was an article entitled Study: Happiness Is Experiences, Not Stuff. His comment was "Hey, we have known that for a long time haven't we, AMD?” (*Gasp!*, that’s me!)
Now, this man must well recall my teenage bedroom, overflowing with clothes. He could never forget my constant petitions for money during college. But I'm so flattered that he's also noticed the careful transition I've been making for the past several years. He's seen me as an adult living well below my means in order to be able to pursue my professional and intellectual passions. He's knows that my greatest expenses by far are my annual or biannual trips to Latin America, a region he taught me love, whose primary language he taught me to speak.
I'm still beginning my journey of learning to live simply but with passion, but it's so gratifying to know that my efforts are noticed.
Have you made (or are you making) a transition to simple living? How do your friends and family respond? I know many of us are bombarded with nay-saying, but have you received any validation that really hit home?
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
How much living space do you need?
Sorry it's been a while since my last post. April is almost always an incredibly busy month for me. Life--and the blog--should be returning to normal as the month concludes.
Unclutterer had a very interesting article today called "How much living space do you need?" Erin looks at the amount of space given to prisoners to determine some bare minimums, but I think the most fascinating element of the article are the responses in the comments. The answers are quite varied, between people who proudly declare 2000 sq ft "just right", those who have scientifically determined that 1100 sq ft is the bare minimum possible, and the RVers who find 300 sq ft way too big.
I found it difficult to answer how much space I need.
Several years ago, my partner and I lived in a 200 sq ft studio after we scientifically determined it to be the cheapest apartment in downtown Portland, Oregon! Functionally, it totally worked. But we were living with a very naughty cat and after three months of very bad sleep in very close quarters, we swore "Never again!" to a studio.
We subsequently lived in a 2000 sq ft house with 6 other adults. I think such an arrangement only works if you're young or recovering from an addiction (don't worry, we were the former). After this we swore, "Never again!" to roommates.
We then lived alone in a 500 sq ft, one bedroom apartment which was... fine... no problems. We had a balcony big enough for a couple of chairs and an upside down tomato plant (DIY!), and the living room would fit a couple of guests on a couch bed. No forswearing occurred upon move-out, but we really wanted a second bedroom to use as an office.
We now have a two bedroom, 700 sq ft apartment which I find incredibly spacious. We both work from home about 70% of the time, and use our shared office very effectively. My only yearning is for some outdoor space. We still have the naughty cat (and have added a well-behaved stray into the fold), but the much bigger apartment makes them only minimally less disruptive in the middle of the night.
I seriously have no idea how much room children take up. I like to imagine myself as a super-minimalist future mother, but recognize that I am probably delusional.
How little space have you lived in? How much do you live in now? Do you find yourself with too much or too little? What aspects of your life factor in to how much room you require (for me--it's cats and my work schedule)?
Unclutterer had a very interesting article today called "How much living space do you need?" Erin looks at the amount of space given to prisoners to determine some bare minimums, but I think the most fascinating element of the article are the responses in the comments. The answers are quite varied, between people who proudly declare 2000 sq ft "just right", those who have scientifically determined that 1100 sq ft is the bare minimum possible, and the RVers who find 300 sq ft way too big.
I found it difficult to answer how much space I need.
Several years ago, my partner and I lived in a 200 sq ft studio after we scientifically determined it to be the cheapest apartment in downtown Portland, Oregon! Functionally, it totally worked. But we were living with a very naughty cat and after three months of very bad sleep in very close quarters, we swore "Never again!" to a studio.
We subsequently lived in a 2000 sq ft house with 6 other adults. I think such an arrangement only works if you're young or recovering from an addiction (don't worry, we were the former). After this we swore, "Never again!" to roommates.
We then lived alone in a 500 sq ft, one bedroom apartment which was... fine... no problems. We had a balcony big enough for a couple of chairs and an upside down tomato plant (DIY!), and the living room would fit a couple of guests on a couch bed. No forswearing occurred upon move-out, but we really wanted a second bedroom to use as an office.
We now have a two bedroom, 700 sq ft apartment which I find incredibly spacious. We both work from home about 70% of the time, and use our shared office very effectively. My only yearning is for some outdoor space. We still have the naughty cat (and have added a well-behaved stray into the fold), but the much bigger apartment makes them only minimally less disruptive in the middle of the night.
I seriously have no idea how much room children take up. I like to imagine myself as a super-minimalist future mother, but recognize that I am probably delusional.
How little space have you lived in? How much do you live in now? Do you find yourself with too much or too little? What aspects of your life factor in to how much room you require (for me--it's cats and my work schedule)?
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Bankruptcy Feud
I highly recommend a read of the debate taking place between Emily (newly) of Almost Frugal and Abigail at I Pick up Pennies.
Emily's bankruptcy story really hit a nerve with Abigail (imo, with some due cause). Emily responded, defending some of her terminology and sentiments, while conceding a few points.
Whew, this feud has all the drama you've come to expect from the frugality blogs and more. I think it will have a happy ending, though, as Emily alludes to some upcoming collaborations between the two.
Where do you stand in this debate? I think the feud ultimately asks one question: How much penitence should we require from bankrupt debtors? For a historical perspective and insights on how bankruptcy was conceived in the early American republic, see last year's The New Yorker article, "I.O.U."
Emily's bankruptcy story really hit a nerve with Abigail (imo, with some due cause). Emily responded, defending some of her terminology and sentiments, while conceding a few points.
Whew, this feud has all the drama you've come to expect from the frugality blogs and more. I think it will have a happy ending, though, as Emily alludes to some upcoming collaborations between the two.
Where do you stand in this debate? I think the feud ultimately asks one question: How much penitence should we require from bankrupt debtors? For a historical perspective and insights on how bankruptcy was conceived in the early American republic, see last year's The New Yorker article, "I.O.U."
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Touches of Spring
We don't celebrate Easter, but today was the most glorious spring day and I felt very Eastery. It was like a stereotype of Easter outside. Lawns everywhere were covered with dandelions, violets, and pansies. Fruit trees were in violent bloom. Seventy degrees, windows flung open, a perfectly azure sky smiling at the world.
We took a nice long walk and picked wildflowers and swiped low-hanging flowering branches to adorn the apartment. I like having fresh flowers in the house and usually buy a bouquet for the dining table once a month or so. But flowers that are native (or have become an intrinsic part of the landscape) in this area and reflect the environment that thrives right outside our windows bring an entirely different feel into the house. It's a beautiful synergy that I'm enjoying immensely.
Happy Easter! Merry Spring!
We took a nice long walk and picked wildflowers and swiped low-hanging flowering branches to adorn the apartment. I like having fresh flowers in the house and usually buy a bouquet for the dining table once a month or so. But flowers that are native (or have become an intrinsic part of the landscape) in this area and reflect the environment that thrives right outside our windows bring an entirely different feel into the house. It's a beautiful synergy that I'm enjoying immensely.
Happy Easter! Merry Spring!
Desk Lamp
Since our housefire last fall, we've desperately been needing a new desk lamp. Our office has a distinctly modern flair, and that's the direction we've been pursuing in search for a new lamp. I'd considered CB2's Crane Desk Lamp, but was turned off by its fixed ten-year lifespan, especially considering the $100 price tag. Yesterday, I stumbled upon a consignment shop I'd never visited before. Its stock was mostly pretty traditional, colonialesque housewares, but I was tickled this little oddity. This lamp is not my usual style, but man!, I sympathized with this little cast-iron, badly-bronzed, bone-headed guy. He now has a place in my book-filled office. I topped him off with a simple, barely-off-white, modern shade from Lowe's and a bright 20 watt compact fluorescent.Lamp, shade, and bulb checked out for $57.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Networking
I hate "networking." I hate smarming up to people I don't know and don't yet have reason to care a lick about.
I hate professional conferences. They're usually way too big to be directly relevant to issues and questions that are pertinent to my work. They're full of people posturing as important, competing with one another for influence. They're opportunities to strut and to sell your product (whatever that may be) and are usually only very minimally educational.
A lot of my work is based in and around Brazil. A couple of weeks ago, I was speaking to a Brazilian colleague about an upcoming project and I bemoaned, "I wish I'd put more work into pursuing institutional connections when I was in Brazil last summer." He was bemused, "In Brazil, institutional connections don't matter. Personal connections do." The entirety of my historical, social, and political knowledge of Brazil converged on that statement, and I immediately realized how right he was. I also realized that perhaps Brazil is not unique in this regard.
The past two days I've been at a professional conference for the first time since this brief, revelatory conversation with my Brazilian colleague. Instead of focusing on how I portray myself, my institution, and my work to supposedly "important" and "influential" people, I've focused on creating relationships. I've tried to move beyond "So what do you do?", a question I hate asking and hate to be asked, even though I love my work. Over the past two days, I've engaged in amusing conversations about horrendous housing situations, cultural misunderstandings, and the relative values of cured meats with people from around the world. Some of these people I'll see again, in the U.S. or in Brazil, and some of them were people who will probably have an impact on the future of my career. Others were simply wonderful individuals that it was a delight to meet. I don't know if this new tactic is more effective than being all business, but it sure made for a more pleasurable couple of days.
Does your work reward "networking"? Do you enjoy or detest it? What are the goals that you hope to achieve through networking?
I hate professional conferences. They're usually way too big to be directly relevant to issues and questions that are pertinent to my work. They're full of people posturing as important, competing with one another for influence. They're opportunities to strut and to sell your product (whatever that may be) and are usually only very minimally educational.
A lot of my work is based in and around Brazil. A couple of weeks ago, I was speaking to a Brazilian colleague about an upcoming project and I bemoaned, "I wish I'd put more work into pursuing institutional connections when I was in Brazil last summer." He was bemused, "In Brazil, institutional connections don't matter. Personal connections do." The entirety of my historical, social, and political knowledge of Brazil converged on that statement, and I immediately realized how right he was. I also realized that perhaps Brazil is not unique in this regard.
The past two days I've been at a professional conference for the first time since this brief, revelatory conversation with my Brazilian colleague. Instead of focusing on how I portray myself, my institution, and my work to supposedly "important" and "influential" people, I've focused on creating relationships. I've tried to move beyond "So what do you do?", a question I hate asking and hate to be asked, even though I love my work. Over the past two days, I've engaged in amusing conversations about horrendous housing situations, cultural misunderstandings, and the relative values of cured meats with people from around the world. Some of these people I'll see again, in the U.S. or in Brazil, and some of them were people who will probably have an impact on the future of my career. Others were simply wonderful individuals that it was a delight to meet. I don't know if this new tactic is more effective than being all business, but it sure made for a more pleasurable couple of days.
Does your work reward "networking"? Do you enjoy or detest it? What are the goals that you hope to achieve through networking?
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