Add Water and Stir :: Simple Thoughts

RECE$$ION REFLECTION
Rethinking How Much Money Matters

By Thea Rashad

Oh, how I long for the days when dropping $40 on a sushi dinner wasn’t even a
budgetary afterthought! Ah, I remember fondly the designer handbags that lined my walk-
in closet, all perfectly arranged according to size and color. But, if four-seasons-old bags
and tailored suits could turn a profit today, I would gladly sell them all on eBay.

Simply put, I just don’t care about ‘stuff’ anymore. Sure, I like the finer things in life just as
well as the next person. I salivate when I’m within a five mile radius of shoe store. But,
maybe I’m afflicted with Deficit Desperation, the sudden anxiety-provoked shift in mindset
where luxuries no longer seem like necessities. I didn’t come to this conclusion on my
own. The recession came knocking at my door long before the nation got the memo. My
workplace tanked and along with it—my job. The day a deputy hung a civil summons on
my door for an overdue bill, the light came on—finally.

Suddenly, the zero balance in the neglected savings account read like a neon sign: YOU’RE
IN BIG TROUBLE. How could I have been so stupid? Perhaps the better term is oblivious.
While my lifestyle was hardly extravagant, it was an indication of where my priorities
rested. Along with my increase in income, I’d forgotten what it was like to stand in line at
the grocery store checkout with food stamps or what it meant to eat Ramen Noodles as a
struggling graduate student.

One might argue that coming from nothing only fueled my lack of discipline with money.
Just as a child plays dress up, such is the life of most adults of some financial means
whether they come from humble beginnings or not. That’s what we’re all taught—work
hard, play hard. And there’s no better indicator of success than things. But, booty worth
bragging about cost money. If most of us were willing to be slightly transparent, we’d own
the fact that we really can’t afford the Lacoste label or the BMW in the driveway. Still, the
illusion of money even when we don’t have it is priceless to some. Those extra credit card
purchases add up. And some of us are perfectly capable of medicating with our money to
escape our reality. Oh, if only we’d consider a one-word question: Who?

When I walk in my now downsized closet (that’s technically still a walk-in because I can fit
in it), I wonder who exactly am I dressing for? Is it for me or for them? Maybe both? This
doesn’t mean the appropriate workplace attire isn’t essential. It doesn’t mean fashionistas
have to give up class and taste. It does mean, however, how we present ourselves
should be nothing short of the truth. Otherwise, it’s a lie.

It’s not just clothes. It could be digital cable or an iPhone. A foreclosed home started off as
a little lie about what was affordable. The high interest rate on a car note because of a
poor credit score drives on a lie. The well-dressed couple may have all the trappings, but
what’s at the root of the relationship? Just as the popular prom queen could be riddled
with insecurities or the honor roll student overwhelmed with a drug addiction, the
presentation isn’t always the product. How does your money present in your life?
Hopefully, it’s your most authentic self without shame and refreshingly real.

The stress that followed my pink slip somehow sharpened the survival skills and sensibility
we all need when we walk through the wilderness. I’ve learned the hard way that there’s
a significant difference between play money and discretionary income. So don't envy the
Joneses in their $400K house. They have play money. Bill Gates has discretionary income.
This revelation leaves me easily annoyed at small talk that focuses on ‘stuff.’ I just don’t
care anymore. Whenever someone runs down their list of financial accolades, I’m instantly
bored. I don’t care about what you have, but rather who you are. What wealth of
knowledge can you impart? Tell me how you keep your head up and even muster up the
ability to give back.

You know, there’s something to be said about extremely wealthy people who are
unassuming. I’ve met a few and you’d never guess their disposable income could feed a
small village. They just don’t present themselves in that way. Sure, their shirts don’t come
from Wal-Mart, but it’s not the first thing you notice about them.

If the richest man in the world can live in the same house for decades and drive an
economy car then why can’t we, especially if that’s what our financial situation requires?
Yes, Warren Buffet has stuff. But, when he walks into his closet every morning, how do
you think he answers that simple question: Who am I dressing for?

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"That’s somewhere
between how it is
and how it should
be (or you wish it
could be). So many
times I’ve come to
this point in my life
where I’m standing
on the precipice of
faith and
pessimism."