Purchases Made in Hope of Self-Improvement
I don’t usually make New Year’s Resolutions because I believe “self-improvement” is a collective delusion we buy into to try to mitigate the soul-crushing depression of the long, harsh winter. Okay, the truth is, I don’t make them because they don’t work for me, but this January I did resolve to buy several things in the hopes that they would make my life slightly better.
I have been frugal since I got my first part-time job in high school and realized that any impulse purchase I made directly equated to several hours of labor pouring coffee for old men at 7 a.m. I often rigorously research purchases and then end up not making them anyway. I’m willing to spend money on going out for meals or activities with friends, but I compensate by rarely shopping. I’m gradually getting better at not having such an emotional attachment to money, but I’m still overly cautious with my spending.
So, in a sort of pseudo-resolution to be less stingy with my money, I decided to buy a couple of things that I had been contemplating buying for a long time.
Resolution: Have better eyebrows.
Cost: $40.85 — powder kit and make-up brush
As someone who only recently started wearing make-up, I still have almost no conception of how much money make-up costs, or how much it should cost. On the way to the mall, I thought to myself, “Thirty dollars is probably a reasonable amount to spend on eyebrow make-up. Thirty-five, max. That’s all I’m willing to spend.”
I’ve only been in Sephora once before and was quickly scared out by the number of beautifully groomed women who offered to help me within the span of five minutes. I felt confident going in this time, knowing that I had a specific purchase in mind and a specific price point. When a friendly customer rep with nice eyebrows approached me, I told her what I wanted and she helped me pick out a product. She applied a tester for me and I was very happy with how it looked; she told me that this was the cheaper, more basic line of eyebrow powders. Of course, I also needed a brush to apply it. Satisfied, I took my purchases up to the cash register to discover that they were 10 more dollars than I’d decided to spend. I handed over my credit card.
Outcome: My eyebrows look way better (even though my lovely boyfriend made the grievous mistake of saying he preferred them “more natural”). No regrets. Resolution achieved.
Resolution: Have a smartphone.
Cost: $614.90 — tab payment, phone, screen protectors
I “upgraded” my phone from a flip phone to a slide phone the summer before I started university. (I’m young enough that smartphones very much existed at this time, but see: excessive frugality.) By my fourth year I was still hanging on to my obsolete phone, supplemented by an iPod touch which was also so dated as to not have a camera or be able to download iOS7. I decided to remedy both of these with one purchase. I waffled between getting the 5s and the cheaper 5c. I eventually went with the 5s because fingerprint scanning, you guys, but also because knowing me I won’t upgrade my phone for another five or six years, so it seemed best to go with the one with more features so it won’t be as painfully obsolete by 2019.
I went to the Koodo kioski in the mall. Koodo is a Canadian mobile brand and uses a tab system rather than contracts, where you put the tab towards the phone you want and they put 15% of your bill toward reducing that amount until it is paid off. If you want to upgrade before then, you have to pay off the remainder of your tab. Despite the fact that my relatively inexpensive phone was roughly four years old, I still had $12.06 left on my tab. This is because my Koodo plan was hella cheap. (Koodo now does a thing with new tabs where they forgive your tab if it is not paid off fully within two years. I love you, Koodo, even though your ads suck now.) So I had to pay that $12 first.
I started a new tab for this phone, which reduced the price by $150. There are also varying tab levels, but I think I’ve provided enough free advertising for Koodo here, so I won’t get into it. I did some math and this seemed to be the best option; I had to pay more upfront but should save money in the long run. The kioski girl asked me what phone I currently had, clearly about to ask about trade-in value, and I was like “hahaha.” I also bought some screen protectors ($15 + tax).
I put some Christmas money towards the purchase (about $200—thanks, relatives!), and some of my Ontario tuition grant money, which is basically a 30% rebate I get on my university tuition. (Yes, you read that right. O Canada!) I paid with my brand new credit card, on which I get 1% cashback, and for which I was initially declined (I later found out that this was because the bank lady completely messed up my application and not because of my credit history, though it was not before freaking out over the possibility of identity theft).
Outcome: When the charge showed up on Mint I had a mini-regret attack, but now I can use Google maps if I get lost, FaceTime people, and do that Snapchat thing I’ve been hearing about. Worth it.
Resolution: Be less dehydrated all of the time.
I’ve been having minor health issues that all seem to boil down to, “Drink more water, dummy.” So I decided to start doing that. This one is more of a traditional resolution, since I actually have to put effort into it, instead of just throwing money at it. Ugh. I bought a water bottle with a built-in filter and I downloaded a free app on my new iPhone to help track my water intake. The filter is an attractive bright red and the bottle hasn’t leaked in my bag yet, so that’s pretty good. I’ve drank 2.2 litres a day for over a week now, and I feel slightly better. I still don’t “crave” water like some “hydrated” people have told me they do.
Outcome: So far, so good. It’s not quite as satisfying since I’ll have to do this for, like, the rest of my life to see the results.
Did spending that $676.17 make me into an improved human? I’m not sure. I’m definitely a more hydrated human with nicer eyebrows, the ability to check my email almost anywhere, and with maybe a marginally healthier relationship with my money, and that’s good enough for me right now.
Sarah Robert is allergic to nuts.