A note from Brad: My FI equation has a constant: my wife, Jamie. She’s part of every financial decision I write about here, whether we talk it through together or she’s simply in my head while I think. Her input matters, and this series gives it a dedicated space within The FI Equation. You’ll recognize her voice by “Jamie’s Input” in the title of her standalone posts, or as a section heading within mine.
I’ve always liked nice things. I was definitely the ‘girlie girl’ growing up. I did not, however, grow up with money. We were comfortable for our small town, but while I loved pretty things and shopping trips, I wasn’t an “Abercrombie girl” like some of the others in my class. But I did have a generous grandmother who would take me back to school shopping every summer — a true highlight of my year not only for the shopping spree, but for the time and fun we had together on those trips. She also loves to shop, so I got it honestly.
My mother also loved shopping, and in the earlier years when money was tight, she would get into some financially precarious positions because of it. So while I enjoyed the occasional splurge trip with my grandmother, I was also cognizant of the fact that the bill comes due at the end of the month, interest piles up quickly, and I shouldn’t buy something if I couldn’t afford to pay for it within the month.
Growing up in a small rural area also meant that my concept of ‘nice’ or ‘expensive’ was different than what it is now, living in a high-net worth metropolitan area. I consider myself lucky that I grew up in a time without social media, where the exposure to people with seemingly limitless money and fancy things was nonexistent. My comparison was the other kids at school and what I saw in my Seventeen magazine. My dream wardrobe came from the Delias catalogue, rather than an influencer peddling a wardrobe worth more than a teacher’s annual salary.
While that was my early life experience, my world view expanded substantially when I moved to DC, where a whole new world of luxury was suddenly in my face, and my budget did not match what I was seeing and starting to desire. My $25,000 staff assistant salary didn’t even cover rent — I was fortunate to have my parents subsidize me for a bit until Brad moved to DC and moved in with me. That didn’t stop the growing desire for nicer things though. I was suddenly exposed to lobbyists, consultants, and business owners rolling through my office with designer bags, shoes, and clothes. I have always enjoyed fashion, and I view my wardrobe and how I present myself as a core part of who I am. Perhaps that’s vanity, but I have always been very attuned to how people are treated based on how they look and dress, and I believe in putting my best heel forward. I want to ensure my first impression is a good one, and my look is a big part of that.
That desire to look fashionable and my love of shopping did get me in a little bit of trouble here and there — a credit card balance I couldn’t pay off at the end of the month and had to carry over to the next, pulling a bit more from my savings to cover it, or, much to the detriment of my pride, having to tell Brad I overspent and needed him to cover more than his half of our living expenses for the month.
Those conversations were the worst, not for anything he said, but for my own sense of self. For as much as my look is a part of who I am, I was also good with money and despised feeling like I made a mistake and let down my partner.
These conversations, as much as I hated them, did help Brad and me build a healthy relationship and communication style, as well as set the foundation for how we would manage budgets and financial decisions together.
Our financial styles and goals are a bit of a push-pull, depending on the area. I lean toward spending and enjoying our hard-earned money now, while Brad has been the more conservative spender, preferring to put more away for later. It doesn’t work that way on everything, and over the years, we have rubbed off on the other.
I understand the value of saving for our future, setting ourselves up for a fulfilling retirement and giving ourselves the flexibility to quit working when we want to, versus having to wait until we can. Brad has learned from me there is sometimes value in higher quality items, presenting oneself well, and spending money on things we enjoy now (travel being the most obvious).
This has enabled us to find a good middle ground. But, as our salaries have increased, so has our spending. Our baseline of what is “quality” or what is even just “acceptable” has continued to rise. 15 years ago my requirement for a hotel was a safe location and clean room.
As I’ve experienced luxury hotels thanks to my career, my wants have gone up. What was once a decent hotel suddenly looks a bit underwhelming next to what work travel has shown me. So our conversations focus on balancing the needs with the wants and determining what is worth the cost.
When Brad and I were in college, I really wanted a quality ‘investment’ bag. Something that was neutral, leather, classic, and would last. At that point, I decided it was a $350 Coach bag. For someone whose nicest bag probably cost a third of that, it was a big jump. And for Brad, whose mom’s handbag was for schlepping around all the kids’ stuff, it was almost absurd.
Regardless of his opinion on the matter, he knew it was important to me, and after a summer living with his family and helping them build their patio, Brad and his mom surprised me with the bag. It meant the world to me, not just because I got the big-ticket item I was dreaming of, but for what I felt it said about how they felt about me. I loved that bag and I carried it for years.
Eventually though, the bag fell out of style, and other desires took its place. But it wasn’t a different Coach bag, or something around the same price point. The ‘hero’ items on my wish list rose in cost as my exposure to higher end goods expanded. The Coach bag became a Prada tote. The Tory Burch flats became red bottom heels. As income grew, so did the wish list.
To this day, Brad keeps a running list of these things (which makes him an excellent gift giver). While it would be easy to let this run out of control, we’ve both been cognizant of the fact that these are special purchases and gifts and not meant to be the baseline for everything we own. That perspective has been important to both of us. Neither of us wants to see a day where these things are no longer special.
Even keeping this perspective in mind, I do suffer from ‘lifestyle creep,’ and it can be a challenge to keep it in check. In all honesty, I can come up with a way to justify any of my higher end purchases, but should I? Or should I finally hit the point where good enough truly is good enough? When do the expectations stop ticking up?
There’s a sweet spot between what we used to be able to afford, what we can afford, and what we should spend. Managing that push-pull is a constant negotiation not just between the two of us, but within ourselves as well.
Trying to maintain the self-awareness of why we want things and how we decide to satisfy those desires goes a long way in making sure we aren’t blindly allowing a ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ mentality to totally overwhelm us. It’s easy, especially in this hyper-visual world, to let it creep up and overtake us.
Trying to keep things in perspective has allowed me to truly appreciate what I have, enjoy those ‘wish list’ surprises and purchases, and not get lost in the ‘next best thing’ cycle (though it does happen from time to time), which is a losing battle regardless of how much money you have.
- Jamie
New here? Start here.
Or read more at The FI Equation.
If this way of thinking about financial independence resonates, subscribe for free to get future posts emailed each week.
This is meant to help you think through financial decisions and tradeoffs—not tell you exactly what to do. It’s general in nature and not personalized advice (see full disclaimer).