stand it no longer, I’ll check one last time, and if it’s still there in my size, it was meant to be: I reach straight for the G-spot in my wallet, and leave with a big smile on my face. This kind of delay tactic can save you a fortune, as the joy of buying often lasts no longer than a day, after which we’d rather we hadn’t spent the money. Giving it a day or two to be sure avoids all those ‘Damn, why did I buy
that?’ irritations.
Buy in bulk. There are precious few positive things to be said about the big, out-of-town supermarkets, but if you are trying to economise then they can help. Buying larger sizes, economy packs, buy-one-get-one-free and other ‘the more you get, the more you save’ promotions do make a big difference to your monthly bills. Buy local for fresh items such as meats, fish and vegetables if you can and for occasional top-ups, but for the big monthly shop a big super-duper-market is cheaper.
Going cheap! As you cannot fail to have noticed, vintage is the biggest style must-have so far this millennium. What this means in non-fashion circles—i.e. for you and me—is that anything old, cheap and utterly bargainous is hot, hot, hot! This is the only trend I have ever been way ahead of: I’ve been buying clothes, toys and furniture at car-boot sales, jumble sales, second-hand stalls and flea markets for years, but not because I am stylish—merely because it’s cheap. Why spend £80 on a child’s bicycle when you can pick up a perfectly good one for under a tenner? Start thinking like this and you’ll be rolling in it.
Grande skinny overdraft. The explosion of the coffee culture in the UK over the last ten years has, on one level, had a positive effect on many people, who now take ten minutes out of their hectic day to sit, read the paper, meet friends, or just think and watch the world go by. Ahhh. On most other levels—the terrifying amount of caffeine we consume, the enormous wastage as gallons of milk and piles of cups and packets of sweetener are thrown away etc.—it isn’t quite so wonderful. And on our wallets it can be catastrophic: even if you buy only four coffees a week, which is far less than many people do, that’s almost £350 per year on coffee! Throw in a few muffins and pastries and you are well on the way to drinking away a weekend break and a new school PE kit.
Look after the pennies. It shouldn’t be surprising that many filthy rich people use second-class stamps, get their shoes mended rather than buying new ones, and know where to buy the cheapest pint of milk. Being penny-wise is a habit that can be hard to adopt, but once you’re there, and can see that the pounds really
do look after themselves, you will be grateful for the new outlook. They didn’t get rich by frittering it away on clothes and take-aways, did they?
Sell your unwanted items. Good old eBay. Once upon a time selling things you no longer wanted—or never really wanted in the first place—was a nightmare and required enormous amounts of time, dedication and disappointment. Nowadays you can sell almost anything you could ever imagine, in whatever used, worn, tattered or stretched form it comes in, with less effort than it takes to put it all in bags and drive to the local charity shop or rubbish dump. Somebody out there wants it, and all you have to do is put it online, sit back and wait for the ‘Congratulations!’ notice to appear. That’s one empty cupboard and £20 for the lady in the corner.
Eat in. Eating out is a luxury. It is not something you are entitled to, or need to do in order to get through a week, but a real indulgence. It is also very addictive—what’s not to like about having somebody else cook and wash up for you?—but sadly, in this country at least, it is also prohibitively expensive. Eating for two is bad enough, but bring your kids along for a couple of plates of food they won’t eat, and drink they will spill everywhere, and you are talking about at least £50 for a fairly stressful evening, and that’s without the service charge. Unless you are really raking it in then eat at home as often as possible.
Forget take-aways. When I say ‘eat at home’ I don’t mean ‘but still get somebody else to cook for you’. Take-aways are only marginally less expensive than eating in a restaurant, and they are often less healthy than anything you could cook at home for a fraction of the price. Of course it’s fun to do every now and then, but if you are watching the pennies—and the waistline—then more than once a month is asking for trouble.
Economy brain. People who manage not to fritter away all their money do so because their brains are hardwired to economising. It’s very annoying for the rest of us, who can’t walk past Zara without a strong, invisible force pulling us towards the door, but if you can start to think just a little bit sensibly about money you will soon find yourself buying three-for-twos without even realising it, and the family kitty will get heavier again.
Be a voucher vulture. Some of my friends are so good at this that they haven’t paid for a family holiday, trip to the cinema or meal out for years. Store reward points can be exchanged for everything from a meal to a trip to Legoland, and if you can be bothered to read all the options and save up then you can really win. Loyalty cards are also great for getting things for free, whether it’s a cup of coffee, a haircut or a DVD rental. Keep a lookout for such cards and start collecting!
Your back must be aching by now, so come on out of this tiny little cupboard and let us head somewhere much more exciting, noisy and spacious…
PART FIVE The Utility Room
I always suspected that I was a little peculiar, but now I am quite sure, at night, I sometimes dream of utility rooms. A place I can put all the noisy kitchen appliances and shut the door on their whirring, humming, spinning and clanking. Alas, I can only dream of such luxury, but hopefully you are more fortunate and don’t have to share your evening meal with a washing machine and seven loads of ironing still waiting to be done.
Here we shall look at family chores, who does them, and how to cut down on the elbow grease.
My Not-So-Beautiful Launderette
Living in a family is a dirty affair. It’s grimy, sweaty, muddy, stained and smelly. Of course, living alone is often not the cleanest existence either—how many bachelor pads have clean tea towels or a scrubbed toilet floor?—but a family dwelling produces more filth than seems possible or manageable at times.
If somebody had told me, before I embarked on this ‘getting married and having kids’ journey, that I would require a degree in cleaning techniques and that a considerable portion of my waking life would be taken up with my head in a laundry basket, I might have reconsidered. It’s not that I have an especially mucky or careless family: talking to many friends, I know that they live with the same level of spillages, stains and general gunk as I do, and none of us would consider ourselves unusually wild or unruly.
Children are, of course, the primary culprits. It is very, very usual for me to have to change my three-year-old within an hour of getting him dressed, because half of his porridge is down his front, he found some chalk and smeared it into his shirt, or he sat on a wet cloth in the bathroom. If they do make it beyond 9 a.m. without a change of clothes, it is almost inconceivable that any of my kids will come home from school in any garments fit for a second day’s wearing: paint, sand, felt-tip, somebody else’s lunch
