Spend Well — Permission to Spend on Yourself
I was recently looking at a dog-earred ledger my mother kept, a meticulous record of every penny spent on milk and postage. It was a testament to a generation that saved for a rainy day and then, quite frankly, sat inside while it poured. We were raised by the people who kept the “good” crystal in a cabinet for a guest who never arrived, and I think it is time we collectively agreed to stop doing that.
There is a specific kind of math one does when approaching this chapter of life. It is not the math of accumulation, which we have mastered, but the math of utility. When I look at a potential trip to the Douro Valley or a month in a light-filled apartment in Lisbon, I no longer weigh the cost against my savings account. I weigh it against the version of myself that can still walk those cobblestones without a second thought.
The cost of waiting is the only expense that never yields a return. We spend decades deferring pleasure as if it were a tax liability, convinced that “later” is a more appropriate time for the indulgence. As it turns out, later is a fickle friend. The vintage of the wine matters less than the company you keep while drinking it, and the interest on a high-yield account is a poor substitute for the memory of a sunset over the Mediterranean.
This isn't an invitation to be reckless; I know you have already checked the markets this morning. It is a suggestion to consider that your capital is not just currency, but time. If the choice is between a slightly larger inheritance for children who would rather see you happy and a first-class seat to a place you have only seen in books, buy the ticket.
Spend the good stuff now. The crystal was meant to be used, the shoes were meant to be worn, and the money was meant to move you toward the people who make you laugh. If you are waiting for a sign that it is okay to stop saving for a future that is already here, consider this it.
Touch up your lipstick, Dorothy
P.S. If you leave it all to the kids, they will just spend it on a minimalist sofa that you would have hated anyway.