By Sophia Yakumithis
February 2020: I am broke and jobless. Let this lede memorialize my credit card balance so I can look back on it and laugh when I’m the editor in chief of GQ Magazine.
Right now, I’m in an awkward position. I’m a full-time student with two unpaid gigs that take up essentially all my time, and I live in a really expensive city with a lot of cool stuff to do.
There are a few measures I could take to raise some moolah, including walking rich peoples’ dogs, acquiring a sugar daddy or sending foot pics to guys on the internet. However, leisure is my passion, so I’m unwilling to compromise the extra three hours a day I have to devote to me, myself and I to take on a paying job.
As my bank account dwindles down by the second, I’ve been reflecting on impulse purchases that seemed like no big deal at the time, but are now killing me.
Skin care/hair products
The only word I can use to describe myself is “dry.” It’s February in Boston, and if your skin or hair are hydrated, I don’t trust you.
I fell into the trap of buying random beauty products to test out last summer, hoping I would experience some life-changing lotion or lip gloss that would change my look, giving me a radiant, So-Cal glow in bumf— Ohio.
Not the case. Instead, by the end of summer, I had all these random, three-ounce bottles of various gels and oils accumulating in my bathroom, only to end up being rinsed out and recycled.
When I’m in a depressed mood — sunglasses on, dry shampoo used — I always find myself on Newbury Street, no matter how many responsibilities I have to fulfill. No idea how my body gets there, but it does. Crazy coincidence, right?
To let you in on a secret, I’m a shopaholic. It’s my fatal flaw. I love clothes so much I could cry.
When I wander into Madewell, Reformation or Urban Outfitters, money I was previously unwilling to spend on something as essential as, say, food, becomes completely disposable. My rationale has evolved into, “Buying a new headband or earrings is such a minor expense and will make my day better. I just won’t buy coffee for four days.”
Long story short, these “minor” and temporarily shiny purchases add up.
Venti iced Americanos
I’m never not buying one. Hard core deflecting right now. Let’s move on before I have a stroke.
NOT Target home decor
To end on a positive note for myself, I think I’m one of the few 20-somethings who doesn’t get sucked into the capitalist regime that is Target’s home decor section.
I’ve noticed a pandemic of young adults flocking to Target every time a season changes or a holiday approaches because the franchise always has seemingly good deals on cheap home decorations and what not. But don’t be deceived.
You do NOT need a festive “S” to hang on your Allston apartment door, nor do you need 300 decorative pillows to put on the couch you salvaged at a rummage sale. We are college students, not nesting home owners.
Imagine taking all the money Target has wrongfully extracted from your credit card balance and putting it towards a really expensive piece of jewelry. You could probably propose marriage to yourself with a beautiful diamond. Or buy a lot of coffee. Your choice.