A winter resolution, update 4

Earlier: 1, 2, 3, 4.

Winter is almost over — I hope. On today’s bike ride into work I climbed up from Hataitai and then sailed down the northern slopes of Mt Vic and tried not to be distracted by the beautiful sunlight glistening on the harbour.

For those of you who just joined us, a couple of months ago I decided that I was spending too much on buses and taxis. I realised that fear of getting wet and the amount of gear I hump around were barriers to using my bike every day. So I costed out panniers and a carrier and a rain jacket, and worked out they would pay for themselves in a few weeks — as long as I rode every day.

I toughed it out through June and July, and now in mid-August I’m definitely in the black. It is pleasant to think as you trundle home: I saved six dollars today.

Here are some things I’ve learned:

• Even in a rainy Wellington winter, your chances of riding in a good storm are pretty low. In three months, I’ve only got really wet maybe twice. So I feel vindicated in not spending a whole heap on full-on wet weather kit. Of course this assumes you have a little flexibility about picking when you leave…
• Once you are used to cycling every day, you lose the the “oh cripes I have to saddle up” feeling. It’s just a normal way of getting around now, and it isn’t onerous.
• The bicycle beats the bus most of the time.
• Even if you get other exercise, adding 45 minutes of cycling to your day makes a really noticeable difference to your fitness.

Because I am scrupulously honest (except when I’m not) I confess I haven’t quite lived up to my initial resolution. One thing I haven’t managed to do yet is use the bike to get to the Sunday markets. The reason is that I have regular early afternoon commitments on Sunday, so it’s just proved to be a little logistically tight. But I’ll give it a crack soon, promise.

A final observation: as we noted earlier, Bruce Sterling suggests that we should only own:

1. Beautiful things.
2. Emotionally important things.
3. Tools, devices, and appliances that efficiently perform a useful function.

For me my Ortlieb panniers are in all three categories. Of all the purchases I have made in the last year, I think I’ve got most jollies out of them by a considerable margin.

Contrasting views on cheapness

We’ve maintained from the start that there is more to frugality than merely being cheap. Frugality is about deploying your resources wisely, to maximise your long-term happiness.

One thing that makes me happy is being satisfied about the ethical or moral consequences of my spending, so it’s worrying to read accounts of what happens behind the scenes to bring us truly cheap goods:

… in her lively and terrifying book “Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture,” Ellen Ruppel Shell pulls back the shimmery, seductive curtain of low-priced goods to reveal their insidious hidden costs. Those all-you-can-eat Red Lobster shrimps may very well have come from massive shrimp-farming spreads in Thailand, where they’ve been plumped up with antibiotics and possibly tended by maltreated migrant workers from Burma, Cambodia and Vietnam. The made-in-China toy train you bought your kid a few Christmases ago may have been sprayed with lead paint — and the spraying itself may have been done by a child laborer, without the benefit of a protective mask.

from a review at Salon.

The book is also reviewed at Boingboing, with some really interesting debate in the comments.

Then there’s this view of so-called ethical consumption, in a review in spiked online of Neal Lawson’s All Consuming:

Ironically, even the most fashion-conscious teenager is less obsessed with consumption than today’s anti-consumerists. The learned professors, journalists and political lobbyists who study in detail the choices available to the public are a sorry sight.

Of course such self-appointed experts are not opposed to all forms of consumption. Although they despise the purchase of luxury items by the masses they are happy to indulge what they see as their own refined tastes. Indeed, the notion of ethical consumption is essentially a way of validating the shopping of the elite while deriding the masses at the same time.

From the elite’s perspective, consumption becomes what author James Heartfield calls ‘status affirmation’. The purchase of what are deemed to be ethically acceptable products is seen as marking individuals out from the rabble. So anyone who likes, say, ordinary chocolate biscuits is sneered at as a gullible consumer while those who eat overpriced organic Duchy Originals are viewed as cultured individuals.

from here. And there is something in that. It isn’t much of an advance to replace one sort of snobbery with another. But still, if one kind of snobbery is helpful to others while another isn’t, I’ll opt for the first over the second.

But what if we don’t buy new things at all? What if we only buy old things and reuse them, or recycle goods?

… salvage itself is a mechanism, both in practice and in thought, procedure and ideology, deeply ingrained in the circuits of late capitalism. And much further back than that.

From the total inanity of green “upcycled” goods (“ie. recycled/reclaimed into something special”, because “Ethical is Beautiful” and they insist on “only using laptops“) to wrenching fillings from your teeth to sell to Cash For Gold U.S.A. (for the oral hoarding days must come to an end in these lean times). From the total staggering obscenity of price mark-ups at trendy vintage clothing shops to desperate children rummaging through the stinking mountains of trash. These are apocalyptic times generally, but in particular, the figure and action of salvage looms perhaps largest.

from Putting the Punk back in Salvage, pointed out by Giovanni Tiso. Particular venom is reserved for vintage clothing, which hurts me.

Dear reader, you must decide what to do for yourself. If you have a coherent plan, please share.

Sneaky, sneaky b-tards

Here’s a word of warning if you’re shopping at New World.

Something that’s happened to use a few times in the past week (at both downtown New Worlds) is that items have big signs on them stating 2-for-$XX!! This is usually a good deal, so we buy them, only to get to the cashier and discover that it is some other brand entirely that is on sale.

When I wandered back to check it the label did indeed say “Molenburg”, but the bread under the sign was Freyas. So technically the supermarket isn’t actually doing anything wrong. The sign and the bread are different, therefore I am not paying enough attention, and it is my fault that I end up with more bread than I need, at a higher cost.

But another way to look at it is: these sneaky, sneaky b-tards are fooling me into buying more, in the expectation that I will not kick up a fuss, and socially embarass myself, at the cashier.

However, no amount of grumpy people in line, or sending cashiers off to sort this out, will deter this curmudgeon from getting his $3.50 saving…

Quick link — taxi fare comparison

NZ Taxi Blog shows fare comparisons between Wellington taxi firms. The top three rankings agree with my perceptions as reported last year: Capital, Green and Combined are the cheapest cabs still.

I haven’t been following NZ Taxi Blog, but there’s a lot of interesting if recherche stuff on there for the dedicated urbanist.

(hat tip to Stephen Clover of the Wellingtonista for this one)

Footwear feats

Feat the first: it appears that near-new shoes trade at a steep discount on Trademe. And so I acquired a pair of barely-worn Loake loafers for $70 instead of three or four hundred. I was careful to measure up some well-fitting shoes I already own and check them with the seller, since shoes sizes are a confusing mess in New Zealand. My intuition is that these were some old dude’s shoes from the back of the wardrobe: the style is vintage, even though the soles were barely scratched. Some people might be a bit squeamish about dead men’s shoes, but I would hate for my best shoes to go out to the tip and I’d like someone who appreciates them to have them.

Feat the second: my favourite black shoes are being resoled. I had thought they were past saving, because they’re rubber-soled and the soles have worn through at the ball, but the cobbler said he can do it for $85. Since the uppers are in beautiful nick, I regard this as a saving, because replacing the shoes with their new equivalent would cost more than twice that.

I’m also stoked to have found a good shoe repairer. (At least I hope he’s good. I’ll report back in a week when I pick them up.) This means that if I spot a good shoe at the op shop, and it needs some love, I’ll have someone I can take it to.

I think I’ve mentioned Vimes’ Theory of Economic Injustice before, but it seems apposite to repeat here:

Vimes reflects that he can only afford ten-dollar boots with thin soles which don’t keep out the damp and wear out in a season or two. A pair of good boots, which cost fifty dollars, would last for years and years – which means that over the long run, the man with cheap boots has spent much more money and still has wet feet.

The cost of breakfast

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. So having agonised about expensive shoes, let me tell you just how minutely I have costed breakfast.

I pretty much always have porridge for breakfast. I like it, it’s quick and easy, healthy by all accounts, and I never feel full with the alleged serving size of more processed breakfast cereals.

One kilogram of whole-grain rolled oats costs $3.58, as of this morning at the Kilbirnie Pak’N'Save. One bowl of porridge requires half a cup. Half a cup weighs 55 grams. Two litres of Budget Slim milk costs $3.05, and I put about 100 ml on my porridge, so it follows that:

• one bag of oats provides 18 breakfasts;
• each breakfast requires 20 cents’ worth of oats;
• each breakfast requires 15 cents’ worth milk, therefore…
• … porridge for breakfast costs 35 cents

This doesn’t account for the pinch of salt or the electricity used to cook the porridge, but trust me, they’re about a cent.

Occasionally, I like Weetbix, just for a change.

One kilogram of Weetbix is on special at the moment, for $3.78. I need three Weetbix to feel as though I’ve eaten enough, and that weighs 45 grams. I have more milk with Weetbix, about 200ml, so it follows that:

• one box of Weetbix provides 22 breakfasts;
• each breakfast requires 17 cents’ worth of Weetbix;
• each breakfast requires 30 cents worth of milk, therefore…
• … Weetbix for breakfast costs 47 cents

It’s worth 12 cents for a little variety.

In conclusion, a rigorous cereal regime should cost less than $165 per person annually. In fact, if you ate some fruit for vitamins, you could probably live quite well on an extremely frugal porridge-based diet. Look out for my new book The Diet Secrets of the Scots — How I Lost 20 Pounds And Saved Thousands Of Dollars With Porridge.

I guess this is my long-winded way of telling you that Pak’N'Save has really cheap Weetbix right now, best before July next year so you have plenty of time to eat your massive stockpile, but that nothing beats porridge.

PS: I am experimenting with bold text. Some say this is a crucial part of effective writing for the web. I cannot help but feel it makes a post read like a really schlocky direct mail sales pitch.

Greening the Nation’s bottoms

One thing most parents seem to share is dread at the cost of nappies. These things are seriously expensive, and if you chose the wrong option, then you’re talking several thousand dollars over the duration. One friend commented specifically that their grocery bill plummetted after their 2nd child graduated.

To address this dreadful expense my partner and I talked over our options before the wee tacker was born, and settled on re-useable nappies. And he being 8 months old tomorrow I thought I’d give a progress report.

In short: Not so bad.

We thought that things might become… different… when he moved to solid food, but we’ve been lucky and the reusables options has worked out well. The principle of the nappy is that it has a waterproof cover, an absorbent cloth, and a disposable liner. The liner is supposed to act as a “catch-all” that allows you to easily dispose of any offending solids. And that’s pretty much exactly what it does. You just gather up the liner and flush it. Since there are no solids heading in the wash cycle the need for a rigorous soaking/washing sterilisation process is less, and a decent warm wash followed by sunlight by kill any bacteria.

And that’s the next issue. Hot washes. We’re still tracking the power bill compared to last year, but it’s being complicated by bad billing in 2008 (a topic for another day), and this winter being so much more cold. But initial figures suggest it’s not too bad, and it includes the additional washing needed to keep on top of grubby baby clothes (feeding is messy!). Total power bill for 2008 was $1021, and this year to date is $633 (6 months). Mind you, we are only using warm washes, but it seems to do the trick, and every few months we spend a week doing spanking hot washes, just in case.

Meanwhile, costs for cleaning are not substantial. Our entire detergent bill last year was $58 (seriously…), and cost to date (January to July), is $50. That includes concentrate, baking soda (bleach), and white vinegar (disinfectant), the latter two bought from Moore Wilsons, the former from the Warehouse in 5kg bags.

Pretty good right?

But! I hear you say. But the initial cost of he nappies!! It’s a killer!!

Well, total cost of nappies including disposables (used at night or when/if we travel), is [drum roll maestro]… $602.

Compared to the cost of buying disposable nappies that is a fairly big saving. We figure the boy will run through a minimum of 6 nappies a day (not skimping and making him wear them for longer), but at least 8. A 20-nappy pack costs a minimum of $10 on special, but more usually $12. Wolfram Alpha tells me that we have 243 days between 4 December and 4 August. This gives us a potential consumption of 1944 nappies, costing us a minimum of $972. Of course this is in reality likely to be higher.

And, we can change the boy as many times in a day as we want. The most water we ever need use is the minimum setting on the washing machine, so 8 nappies or 15 nappies makes no difference. Plus, the disposable liners are actually good for a couple of washes if they have only been peed on! Another saving!

We’re thinking that we won’t have to make the outlay for the next size up nappy for several months (his growth has evened out at around 11.5kg), so the next $180-odd so a little way of, meaning that from here till then the only cost is cleaning and purchasing additional liners ($10 for 100, cost to date included in the $602).

The final word? Well worth it.

A field trip to The Reduced to Clear Store in Rongotai

Yesterday I visited the Reduced to Clear Store in Rongotai.

This shop sells short-dated grocery items at a discount to normal retail. It’s been the subject of some controversy as health professionals see it as a source of even cheaper high-calorie/low-nutrient food. (I don’t really want to get into that debate, but on their website the picture they have chosen for “kids lunches” is hilarious — a lovely healthy sandwich and a piece of fruit, misleadingly illustrating a  list of starch and sugar-rich processed foods.) Anyway, I was hoping that they might have pantry staples that don’t spoil and so on.

I have to say I was a bit disappointed. I really like the concept, and I was hoping I’d see a somewhat supermarket-like range of dry goods. But the shop is quite small, and the range seemed limited, mostly to confectionary and packaged snack food of a low-grade sort. I did see some cheap sugar (can sugar spoil? I don’t think so) but it was not markedly cheaper than the cheapest sugar at Pak’N'Save up the road. The only useful basic thing I saw there was liquid laundry detergent.

It’s possible of course that they are ramping up and that in months to come there will be a bigger range with the kinds of things I’m interested it. Reduced to Clear have a good website which describes a bigger range than what I saw. I presume it’s what’s available in their Auckland branch. The website would be even better if it had prices on it. Woolworths have all their prices on their website, New World have their special prices listed — I’d hope that a feisty upstart whose proposition is that they are cheaper would have their prices available for me to check before I leave home too.

Right now, I wouldn’t go there unless I needed to cater a 5 year old’s birthday party in a hurry. But I’ll pop in again in a month or two and see what the shelves look like then.

Families Commissioner on how to beat debt

Frugal reader Jack reminded me about this story, which was front page news on today’s DomPost:

Families Commissioner Gregory Fortuin said the research, to be issued in full in September, indicated that household debt could be reduced by a fifth if three characteristics in the New Zealand psyche could be dealt with.

The main behaviours driving debt were the belief that life and financial management was out of your control; having aspirations based on comparisons with other people; and a tendency for impulsive buying.

The commission is now looking at what can be achieved by attending to those factors, which it identified last year.

The study also identified that a quarter of households were not keeping up with mortgage repayments and bills. More than one in five were selling possessions and turning to family for financial help, and a third were getting some form of community financial support.

…

DEBT BUSTERS

- Regain control of your spending

- Don’t spend to keep up with others

- Don’t make impulse buys

On the one hand, the advice seems like common sense to me, but on the other, clearly it can’t be that common. And as we all know, these things are easy to say, but full of challenges if you want to practise them consistently.

Regaining control of your spending means that you have to start recording what you spend diligently, and using the results to construct a budget.

Not spending to keep up with others means developing a thick hide, learning to make the cheap look good, and resisting the pressures of your peers and a lot of clever marketing.

Avoiding impulse buys seems the simplest to me, but even then, there are days when it’s going to be difficult to get along without your wallet.

I think we might rustle up a post or several on these points in coming days.

Value for money in shoes

One of the reasons I have this blog, apart from enjoying hectoring you about my economic moral superiority, is that in making a pretence of being a sensible person online, I feel some pressure to live up to my own hype. So I’m wandering around town peering in windows*, feeling like spending some money, and then I think: Stephen, is that frugal? And then I don’t. See? The blog works, not for you, but for me.

For the last few weeks I’ve been thinking I need new shoes. My main pairs of black and brown shoes are both near wearing out. I am enough of a traditionalist that I believe I need a black pair and a brown pair in order to be a properly-dressed chap.

Unfortunately, both the pairs of shoes in question date from a time before I really cared much about frugality in the footwear department, and so neither pair can easily be resoled. Instead I’ve been pottering around shoe shops at lunchtime, marvelling at how much ugly and flimsy shoes cost.

Anyway, I finally bought some expensive shoes the other day. Really quite expensive indeed. Very sturdy, resolable, stylish rather than fashionable shoes, but expensive. Allowing for inflation, not as expensive as the Docs I bought in the 80s, but expensive. And the pleasure I felt in admiring my well-shod feet was somewhat mitigated by a sense that I had failed to be frugal.

Part of this sense stemmed from some ignorance about a fundamental issue: how long should a pair of shoes last?

Luckily my friend Mary told me a simple rule of thumb which I think seems pretty sound: one dollar per wear. So $100 shoes that get worn twice a week should last out a year.

By that criterion, the old Hush Puppies I’m replacing were successful. They cost about $200 some years ago, and have easily been worn once a week since. The Campers, which I loved and found very comfortable, were not. Their soles are so soft that they’ve barely lasted two years, even though they cost more than $300. I’m afraid I won’t be buying another pair again.

Interestingly, the cheap as chips sneakers I got from the Warehouse also pass easily, especially since I abuse them for martial arts training. They cost $15 a pair, so they’re well on the credit side of the ledger. It’s like pure profit every time I wear them… I’m hoping to get 10 years out of these new shoes and feel the same way about them.

So yeah, anyway, what counts as good value in shoes to you?

*A more common-sensical person, and honestly I am that person most of the time, would not peer in shop windows in the first place. Most of the time. Except when I need shoes.