Brand New Second Hand
It’s no Portobello Road, but it’s still pretty good. “Brand New Second Hand,” a photo of a Helsinki flea market, was taken by Janne Hellisten, and is used with permission via the WikiMedia Commons.

Today I found five bucks and change inside a purse for sale at Value Village.

The purse had a Prada tag on it, and I had just decided, with great disappointment, that it was probably fake and I probably shouldn’t buy it… when I realized the jangling noise coming from it wasn’t the hardware. I plunged a hand inside the hole in the inside lining and voila! Free money!

The free money bought me a cashmere scarf (which had no tag, so the cashier gave it to me for $1.99), and an Adrian Tomine graphic novel, Shortcomings, which I bought to resell on Amazon, where secondhand copies are going for 3 times the price I paid at Value Village.

Frequently, thrift-store shopping disappoints me, but today was awesome.

Here are some tips for maximizing your thrift-store shopping experience:

1. Figure out which largish thrift stores are adjacent to the richest neighborhoods, and shop there

Even better, figure out which are near neighbourhoods filled with stylish old people living in large homes. Eventually, the stylish old folk downsize, and their unwitting family members help them, and an extraordinary amount of quality stuff ends up in secondhand shops instead of the consignment or auction houses where it belongs. Be heartless and take advantage.

2. Shop at off-peak times

Weekdays and weekday evenings seem to be the least crowded, at least at the places I frequent.

3. Shop alone

Shopping is like hunting – it’s easier to be silent and deadly if you don’t have company.

4. Take advantage of all store programs

If there’s a mailing list, be on it. If there’s a loyalty program, join it. If the store offers 50% off sales every other month, go to them. If they print a calendar with coupons for the store, and sell them every November (Value Village does this), buy three.

5. Don’t buy to resell unless you’re an expert on the thing you’re buying

I’m not an expert on Prada, so I didn’t take a gamble that the bag I found on the floor was authentic. (Which was good, because it seems pretty clear that it wasn’t.) However, I’ve worked as a first-hand bookseller for ten years, and I’ve also spent the last three years selling secondhand books and textbooks online, so I know what to pick up and what to avoid. The graphic novel I found today was an excellent bet.

6. Know what’s in your wardrobe

If you want to totally kill at this step, use PBWiki to build a private catalogue of your wardrobe, with pictures. Make sure colours are accurate. If you have a smartphone, you can use it to access your clothing wiki while you shop.

Otherwise, just know what you’ve got. It’s helpful to keep your wardrobe smallish so you can easily go through it, mentally, when you’re trying to decide if you have enough mustard colour sweaters. (Answer: always yes. Even if you have none.)

7. Know your measurements.

Apart from bust, waist, hip and shoe size, it’s helpful to know your inseam, hat size, glove size and ring size (although if you’re able to try stuff on, the last three aren’t so important.) If you’re a dude, know your neck size, too. (Here’s a YouTube Video from Debutante Clothing on how to take your measurements.)

It’s also good to measure a sweater and/or coat that fits well (particularly if it’s bulky, and you are looking to buy more bulky stuff) to figure out the measurements of a finished garment that fits you.

Put all these in your wiki, if you make one, or just write a list and keep it somewhere in your purse or wallet. Advanced thrift-store clothing shoppers keep a cloth measuring tape handy. (I frequently forget, and then wish I had one.)

Lastly, it’s also helpful to know what size you are in the brands you like most. For example, I wear a Calvin Klein size 8 or 10 for dresses and tops (which is totally ridiculous), but am a twelve in most Jacob Annex clothing.

8. Know what’s good wear and what’s bad wear

Ripped seams can be mended, and missing buttons, broken zippers and worn soles can be replaced. However, if the wool pants you’re looking at have shiny knees, forget it.

Likewise, don’t bother buying light-coloured shirts with underarm stains; anything that smells like smoke or cats; knit sweaters with moth holes (unless you’re buying them for a felting project, in which case just make sure the garment is made from 100% natural fibres); shoes where the leather has worn extremely thin at the toe or heel; or any fibre that’s sun-yellowed. Knit or wool material with a lot of pilling is also a bad buy.

Check seams, cuffs and hems, zippers and buttons, and the care instructions, if they’re still in the garment. Superficial damages (broken buttons or zippers, ripped seams where just the thread is broken, not the fabric) are reason enough to ask for a discount; a “dry clean only” label is reason enough to leave something on the shelf.

I also prefer not to buy second-hand items made from non-natural fibres, but that’s just me, not a hard-and-fast rule. [For the record, though, silk, wool (merino, cashmere, alpaca, angora, etc.), linen, cotton and rayon are all natural cloth and will last a long time; mixes that have a high proportion of any of these are also excellent buys.]

9. Don’t donate to the same stores where you shop

This tip is here so you can learn from my mistake: it’s annoying to realize you’ve bought the same skirt twice, and yes, it still does that weird bunchy thing that made you get rid of it the first time.

10. Visit frequently.

I’d say once a week is the sweet spot. Merch at thrift shops turns over quickly, particularly if the store is large and downtown.

Bonus tip 11. Don’t spend like a crazy person

Thrifting is worth it when you’re buying high-quality stuff that will make your life better, at a lower-than-new cost. It can be frugality at its finest (not to mention environmentally responsible), but it can also induce temporary money blindness. Don’t buy things you won’t use. Don’t buy things you don’t need. Don’t buy things because they’re a dollar. Remember, when you walk into the thrift store, that you are not your stuff.

These are all things I tell myself firmly whenever I step inside Value Village, because otherwise I would be coming home with sequined slinky things every time.

If you’ve got further thrift-store tips or stories, leave them in comments!

Police_Box
Photo of fan-made Tardis taken by Paul Hayes, used courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons

As I figured out the first time I finished an application 12 hours before it was due, time and money have an inverse relationship. If you have lots of time, you can get by on a little bit of money. On the other hand, if your university application is due the next day in a different city and they won’t accept faxed copies, you’re going to be paying through the nose for FedEx service.

Which is why, I expect, personal finance blogs have lots of lists of money savers, and few lists of time savers. Time is currency, but time-savers nearly universally require funds.

What to do, then, if you’re short on both? I’m a full-time student, and I’m getting by on a part-time job, which requires an extremely strict budget. I don’t have the money for convenience items, but I don’t have the time to do a lot of stuff, like make dinner every night.

The answer, oh readers, is time-shifting.

Here are some ways I’ve figured out to shift time – that is, to spend time when I’ve got it, instead of when I have to.

1. Shop for bulk household items in the summer

September to May, I resent shopping trips. Some people see them as a nice break in the day; I see them as timesucks. Plus, I can’t strategize my spending during the school year as well as I’d like, since I also don’t have the time to do market research or seek out coupons and deals.

So, I stock up on all non-food stuff during the summer. I buy a year’s worth of toiletries and cleaners (over four months, so I can take advantage of sales & coupons), and then I’m set ‘till June.

On a similar note, I try to:

2. Grocery-shop twice a month and
3. Shop during off-peak hours

I’d love it if I could manage monthly grocery trips, instead, but I share an apartment with two other women, we don’t share food prep on a scheduled basis, and there’s no room in the fridge or pantry for a month’s worth of food.

Also, regarding food, I

4. write two week meal plans and
5. batch-cook on the weekends

This means most of every Saturday is lost to cooking, but it also means I have an extra hour every day during the week, when I need it most, for studying. And I don’t have to scrounge around to figure out what I’m eating every day – it’s on a schedule and in a Tupperware container in the fridge or freezer.

It’s true, though, that I frequently fail at executing items 2 through 5 perfectly. To compensate I also

6. Keep portable foodstuffs (muffins, bananas, yogurt, nutribars) on hand, for when I sleep in or go off-schedule accidentally, and have to eat on the go. And I keep a travel mug clipped to my knapsack.

To time-shift transportation problems I:

7. Buy a transit pass

My university offers a discounted student pass for public transportation. Buying one means standing in line for an hour monthly on a Monday morning, but doing so saves me the time it takes for six trips to the ATM, six transactions with the transit clerk, and 100 trips through the tokens-only turnstiles (having a pass gets you through the checks much faster).

Transit isn’t the fastest way to get around the city, mind you – biking is – but when I use transit I can study en route, using flashcards.

If I’m really strapped for time, though, I

8. Bike to class

Because that means I can sleep in for an extra 15 minutes.

I time-shift non-food, non-transportation stuff, too. The two most common ways I do this are by:

9. Having designated places for all my stuff, and forcing myself to immediately return things to their places after I’m finished with them

This means my keys, purse, school books, knapsack, glasses, cell-phone, iPod, chargers, etc. are always where they’re supposed to be, and I don’t have to waste time searching for them when I need them. It’s funny – this is a habit of my Dad’s, too, and as a kid, his insistence on it drove me insane. But now I see its usefulness.

I also

10. Keep a separate set of toiletries for traveling, and keep them packed and ready to go.

This might seem like overkill, but I figure always having everything in a bag in my overnight case saves me half an hour of packing time. Plus, doing this means I never forget my toothbrush or contact lens solution, so I never have to waste time tracking down a place to buy those things while I’m away from home.

There are other ways I time-shift, too, but those are my top ten.

And you, readers? How do you spend time consciously?


Photo by Ed Brey, from the Wikimedia Commons.

Today I sat down to do one of the rituals I’ve made for myself – a small attempt to practice caring and community. Every Sunday, I comb through a week’s worth of posts on the Toronto Freecycle message board to see if there are any needs I can fill.

I started doing this regularly a couple of months ago, and I’ve been surprised by how easily it changes the way I think about my life. Being a full-time student, I’ve got a strict budget, and sometimes, even when I’ve got a full belly, the bills are paid and the larder’s stocked, thinking about my limited funds makes me feel deprived. I recognize that the feeling is an illusion, and I do my best to snap myself out of it.

Turns out that blessing other people with your abundance is a great way to shake yourself out of a false sense of impoverishment.

For example, the first time I sat down to do this, there was a post asking for a space heater. The family who needed one lived in a drafty flat, and the mom was worried about keeping her baby warm at night. I, too, have lived in apartments where, during the winter months, I had to sleep in my parka, but when I read the post looking for a space heater, I had just moved into my current digs, which are well-insulated and generously heated. My space heater had been sitting in storage since I moved in, and I’d forgotten about it. I passed it on to the family trying not to freeze in their sleep. Now, it’s doing its job, and I had a moment to be thankful for my beautiful, comfortable apartment.

Similarly, a couple weeks ago, someone asked for the Harry Potter books, for a young friend who’d recently fallen in love with them. The poster didn’t say this, but I know it to be true – frequently, the teenagers reading Harry Potter for the first time haven’t really spent much time reading before, and JK Rowling’s novels open up a whole world of books for them. So I was delighted to send my copy of the first one over. After all, it was just sitting on the shelf, and I’m already hooked on books. Reading’s one of the chief joys of my life, and so when I mailed out Harry Potter & The Philosopher’s Stone, I had a moment to think, with glee, about the abundance that the recipient was going to discover, abundance already in my life.

Someone else asked for yarn suitable for knitting a baby blanket. She was pregnant, and low on funds. My yarn stash is ridiculous, and it just so happened that there was a baby blanket kit in it, which I’d never used because I realized I don’t much like chenille. The recipient loved it, though, and somewhere there’s a wee one snuggled up in a grass-green and sky-blue blanket. I love thinking about that. I treasure the stuff my mom & grandmothers have made me, and I bet this baby will grow up treasuring their blanket, too. After I sent out the yarn, I went upstairs and wrapped myself in the blanket my Grandma Gina made me when I was 16. It’s made from scraps of other knitting projects – almost all made for her grandchildren. I thought about how much I loved her and missed her, and how lucky I was to have had a grandparent like that.

There’s been times I’ve also needed things and Freecycle’s come through for me. I hope that the people who passed on their bookshelves, library lamps and coatstand got a burst of happiness out of giving, too.

As you see, then, there’s a huge difference between dropping stuff off at Goodwill and meeting specific needs. This is particularly true for me: I give my stuff to the charity store that I don’t shop at, so that I don’t end up accidentally buying something I donated – which means I’m always the giver and never the taker. On Freecycle, almost everyone does both. And on Freecycle, we know the names, and sometimes the stories, of the people we’re giving to or receiving from.

Of course, I think we should all do both – it’s impractical to just give stuff away on Freecycle, and second-hand shops serve important community functions, particularly in the way they offer employment and benefits to people who might otherwise have a hard time finding work.

But it’s satisfying to fill specific needs, particularly when you think you don’t have many resources. Truth is, most of the time, we all have more than enough. We just forget it.


Title: Thank You Tree Photographer: Shrewdcat Photo courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons

I finished my last knitting project – the gorgeous Phyllo Yoked Pullover from Norah Gaughan’s brilliant book, Knitting Nature – on Monday. I love the moment after finishing and blocking is done, both because I have the satisfaction of wearing (or gifting) what I’ve made, and because it means I can pick the next thing to make.

Knitting isn’t a cheap hobby. If you’re using natural fibres, which I prefer, an adult’s sweater will probably set you back about $80 in materials, unless you’ve happened upon a particularly good sale. That’s okay with me. Handmade knits are lovely, intricate, lasting gifts, and I’m happy to pay the price of quality materials for something that will be treasured.

The thing is, if I’m spending that kind of money, I’d like the company that gets my business to appreciate the sale.

Relatedly, there are two knitting shops in Toronto I use most frequently.

One is a behemoth, about 3300 square feet. It carries probably a hundred different brands of yarn, and maybe fifteen brands of needles and notions.

The other probably doesn’t break 400 square feet. It has fifteen brands of yarn, 7 brands of needles & notions, and is open far fewer hours than the behemoth store. Also, it’s not downtown, and getting there requires that I bike up a hill.

But here’s the thing: today, when I went to Behemoth Store to pick up the materials for my next project, I asked the clerk if they had a mailing list.

“I’d really like to hear about your sales,” I said. “I don’t live in the immediate vicinity.”

“We can’t mail this out every month!” scoffed a staff member at the front desk, holding up his supplies binder.

“… right,” I said, thinking, and why would anyone want to read that? “But you could email a short notice of events and sales.”

“We’ll never do that,” said another staffer. “You’re lucky if we reply to your email.”

“I see,” I said.

Conversations like this infuriate me. How often, I’d like to know, does a customer tell a company exactly what the customer needs? How often does a business person get told exactly the thing that would increase sales? And to brush it off like the person in front of you is crazy for thinking of it, well.

You understand why I’m a little peeved by the exchange. I am certain that running a knitting store doesn’t generate big bucks. I’d be surprised if it does much more than pay the bills and cover salaries. I’m familiar with this kind of business – after all, I’ve worked as a bookseller for ten years, and if anything’s a labour of love, that is.

But I have money to spend and I’d like to spend it at a place that keeps my needs in mind and appreciates my dollars. In addition, I’m not averse to having the stores I shop at suggest stuff I might want.

Which brings me back to Small Store – and since it doesn’t have anything to hide, I’ll name it: I’m talking about Knit-O-Matic at Bathurst & St. Clair.

Here are things that Knit-O-Matic does: they keep a website. They also keep a blog. They run a monthly mailing list, where they tell readers about sales and classes. They offer all the people on their mailing list the use of their password and login for the excellent crafters social network, Ravelry (still in beta, last time I checked, with accounts being offered by invitation only). They host thrice-weekly stitch-n-bitch sessions and monthly yarn swaps. They partner with charity groups to send handknits to folks who need them, and extra yarn to folks who make blankets for Sick Kids Hospital and local women shelters.

Some of those things are services that Behemoth Store offers, too, but Behemoth is only going to let me know about them if I make a point of going to their store and asking them. (Or if they update their website, but during the conversation, above, Behemoth also told me they don’t always remember to do that.)

In fact, Behemoth doesn’t want me as a customer. The Behemoth owners and staff want people like them as customers: women in their 50s and upwards – ladies who lunch, that is, either retired or homemakers, who don’t use computers and think the internet is beyond them.

Why, then, did I go to Behemoth today, and not to Knit-o-Matic? Because Behemoth had the yarn I wanted, and Knit-o-matic doesn’t carry it. However, it’s probably true that there are other yarn options at Knit-o-matic that would have worked equally well, and that the staff would’ve been happy to help me figure it out.

So, here’s the thing I’m going to do: I’m going to stop shopping at Behemoth. I’ll probably regret it a little, when I need more Berocco Softwist, and I have to go to Kensington to find it, but I’m convinced that spending should reward competence and care. Otherwise, the money we part with doesn’t do anything to make our communities a better place.


Add two coconuts, and the Professor might be able to make a radio!
Photo by Lucky Louie, from The WikiMedia Commons.

Even after moving ten times in the last 11 years, under circumstances where I have to carry umpteen boxes up and down stairs, I’m still prone to clutter.

It’s hard to admit this, since I think of myself as a person who’s not too attached to stuff.

Occasionally, this self-concept gets dealt a harsh blow, like when my blogger friends compare photos & lists of what’s in our bags, and I realize that not everyone carries a MagLite, a carabiner, an eyeglass repair kit and a handkerchief with them all the time.

But mostly? I think I’m fairly non-materialistic. I have a one-in, one-out rule for clothing. I purge my bookshelves frequently. I’ve stopped following the family tradition of picking up abandoned items from the street. (Okay, I’ve mostly stopped doing this.) I don’t collect anything. I use the library. I try to spend my discretionary funds on experiences and not stuff.

And yet, on a regular basis, I realize that the time’s come to declutter. Again. The most recent time was last week, since I was on an unexpected vacation and quickly ran out of things to do. So, I turned to Freecycle.

Toronto’s Freecycle network is large: as of today, the email list has 16542 members. In my experience, even the weirdest item offered gets snapped up within 24 hours. (The only exception is broken electronics. No one needs a printer that doesn’t work.)

Here are some of the things I’ve given away on Freecycle in the last two months:

  • Once-used padded mailing envelopes A good dozen of these arrive at work every week, and I keep them for the rare mail-outs we do. They pile up.
  • Mounted blow-ups of book covers, used as in-store displays at my job Publishers rarely want these back after the promo is over, and since I know how much it costs to make them (and also since they’re pretty), I hate throwing them out.
  • A half-dozen baseball hats, sent to me as promos from a production company. There is little I need less than 6 baseball hats emblazoned with the title of the newest cop buddy movie.

  • A drip coffeemaker I downgraded to a stovetop espresso maker, and my percolator’s been sitting unused for months.
  • A large bagful of unused post- and note-cards
  • A 2010 wall calendar, which a charity had sent me to nudge me into giving them more cash
  • My old iMac It was a first-gen desktop without an AirPort, so the resale value was low. It ended up going to a writer who needed a computer without internet access so she couldn’t get distracted.
  • A huge stack of CDs, including a bunch of promo CDs that came with music magazines.
  • That is a lot of crap. All of it was gathering dust. Most of it couldn’t be sold.

    JD at Get Rich Slowly remarked this week that the process of decluttering is a lot like peeling an onion. He’s right, except it’s a process where we are also, absurdly, putting some of the layers back on the onion after we take them off.

    I’m getting better at it. I can even envision a day when I don’t have an entire bookcase full of unread books.

    Today is not that day. But give me six months.

    Here’s a good way to stop using your credit card to spend money you don’t have: authorize your credit card providers to take out the full balance owing from every month when it’s due.

    I did this two weeks ago, and have since been operating in a state of near panic. Because here is a thing I do: one or two times a week, I forget my lunch. Sometimes I forget it because I didn’t pack it, sometimes I forget it when it’s packed and sitting on the counter, sometimes I “forget” it because what’s left in the fridge is leftovers from an uninspired meal and I didn’t really want to face it on a plate, again, because it made me unhappy the first time.

    So I walk to the supermarket five metres from the front door of the place where I work, and I buy lunch. It costs me about nine bucks, because the supermarket is good at marketing, and inevitably my four buck sandwich gets joined by a two buck designer soda and a chocolate bar and an apple. These are nine bucks that aren’t in my spending plan, because every time I make my budget, or withdraw the money that’s supposed to get me through the month, I wax optimistic about how this time I’m gonna be virtuous and not forget my lunch, not once.

    Except now I can’t keep pretending that. Because in two weeks, Mastercard & Visa will both walk into my chequing account and take out what I owe them, and they’ll be doing it because I said they could.

    It turns out that this is keeping me more honest than even the ten second rule did.

    I’m starting school again in ten days. This is my eighth year of post-secondary education, and as I get my ducks in a row, making lists of what still needs to be done and fretting about my student loan, I’ve been thinking about the stuff I didn’t know when I started. Stuff that would’ve saved me time & money. Stuff no one told me, and that I didn’t read anywhere before I was dropped off in front of a pink granite jelly-mold of a building, and suddenly had to be an adult.

    Rowell Jackman Hall
    This pink granite jelly-mold, to be exact.

    If I could go back in time and hand my 18-year-old self a booklet of tips on living a better financial life while at school, these would be in it:

    1. Move out of residence after first year

    Okay, people told me this. But their reasons were about my social life, not about cold hard cash. No one told me that a) colleges and universities frequently charge more for a dorm room than you’ll pay for a bedroom in a shared flat and b) at least in Ontario, Canada, where I live, you can’t declare your dorm room residence fee as rent on your taxes.

    (For comparison’s sake, about the last item: my total annual rent costs for off-campus housing in Toronto are 7K; on my last tax return, this got me $400 in tax credits. If I had lived in residence, no matter how much I’d paid in residence fees, I would’ve received $25 in tax credits per semester.)

    Like most pieces of advice, this isn’t one-size-fits-all. If you plan to move home to your parents’ house every summer, you should stay in residence, because the school plans on you moving out in May or June, and no one will yell at you about breaking leases.

    Also, if you’re taking a really intense program and it’ll reduce stress to be near the library, labs, offices, or whatever, then you should stay in residence.

    Last, if you get offered an RA job, stay in residence. Free rent is the best kind of rent.

    For most of us, though, living off-campus saves money on rent and food (it’s hard to cook in a dorm; plus many universities have rules about mandatory meal plans, which end up being more expensive than making your own meals), means you move far less than you do if you live in residence, and gives you a headstart on figuring out all kinds of housing stuff which you had no idea you didn’t know about.

    2. Forget used: you might not have to buy your books at all

    I discovered last year – only last year! After seven years of uni! — that all my textbooks had been placed in the short-term loan library. It turned out there were also copies in the department offices, which I could sign out for a three-hour window.

    Also, on top of the university holdings, Toronto, where I live, has one of the largest public library systems in the world, with 99 branches and an incredible transfer service. I can order the books I want online, specify what branch I’d like them transferred to, and they’re usually there within three business days. The system automatically sends me an email notification once the books are ready for pick-up.

    Granted, I still buy a lot of my books, and I’ve got a whole slew of tricks to find used copies. But I’m buying because I want to – I could not bother and still have access to the material I need.

    3. You don’t need to wash all your clothes every time you wear them

    I realized this the year that I was editing a campus newspaper. It was a 60 hour a week job (yes, I was being paid; no, I wasn’t trying to carry a full class load), the nearest laundromat was a 30 minute walk from my apartment, and I had no time to get anything done. I bought three weeks worth of underwear, started spot-cleaning my pants when necessary, and left my t-shirts to soak overnight in soapy water. And every three weeks, I’d call a taxi, cram the backseat full of duffel bags, and spend four hours doing laundry.

    From this experience I learned a) never again to live in an apartment without on-site washers & dryers and b) jeans don’t get dirty for a long time.

    4. Be ruthless about not collecting stuff

    For most people, being in school means moving a lot. If you’re living in residence, you’re moving twice a year. If you’re living off-campus, you’re probably sharing housing, and households break up. Take me, for example: I’m 29, I’ve lived in Toronto eleven years, and in that time I’ve lived in ten apartments and had 25 roommates.

    When you have to move, the only thing that makes it better — apart from enthusiastic help from family and friends — is having a limited number of boxes to carry.

    Learn to let stuff go. If you’re not using something, sell it, freecycle it, or donate it to Goodwill. And try not to pick up crap you won’t use.

    5. Always, always ask for a student discount

    I shopped at my favourite knitting store for years before I realized they offered a ten percent student discount. Both yoga studios I use give student discounts. My hairdresser charges students 50% less. I book flights through a student travel agency that often gets up to half off regular plane prices. All the second-run theatres in town offer deals if you’re in school, as the museums and galleries, do several of the sports supply stores. And “I’d like to get both of these, but I’m a student and can’t really afford them,” is a good haggling tactic.

    Put aside your shyness on this front. No one with twelve thousand dollars in student loans (or more) can afford to not take advantage of every deal their student card gets them.

    6. Network. And don’t be a snob about it.

    You know who knows stuff you don’t about potential moneymakers and moneysavers?

    Everyone.

    Your profs know about scholarships that you should apply for. There’s someone on the groundskeeping staff who has a friend in need of an occasional babysitter. The guy in your bio class hosts a study group that gets complimentary meals from someone’s mom. One of your TAs is recruiting subjects for a psychological study that will pay $50 for three hours of your time.

    And you might have information that they could use, too.

    In sum, knowing people and being of value to them will uncover surprising opportunities. Don’t be a hermit during school. Make friends and meet people of all stripes. It will pay both now and later – maybe not in a cashy money way, but who knows?

    Can you see the bike for the trees?
    Photo by Luka Krstulovic, via the Wikimedia Commons

    Today, as I was biking downtown, I passed two cars being towed and one rear-ended van in the middle of the street, slowing down traffic.

    I’ve lived in Toronto for 12 years, and have used public transit, my bike and my feet to get around for all that time. Although those will still be my primary ways of gettng around, in a couple weeks, I started taking driving lessons, and I plan to become an AutoShare member early in 2010. But I don’t regret my 12 years of being car-less. After all:

    1. My bike’s never been towed.
    2. Even though I’ve had two bikes stolen, the total cost of bike ownership over 12 years (including purchases and tune-ups), has been less than $600.
    3. I don’t pay for parking.
    4. My bike mechanic has a weird sense of honour. He frequently doesn’t charge me for stuff, if it’s piddling and I could’ve done it myself. The last time I went in, he handed me two brake-pads, showed me what to do, and charged me $1.50 for parts. I can’t imagine that any auto mechanic in my future will ever do the same.
    5. Biking is, in fact, the fastest way to get around the city. I can’t find the articles at the moment, but every year NOW magazine challenges one cyclist, one driver and one transit taker to race down Yonge Street, and every year, the cyclist wins.
    6. I feel more a part of the city when I’m traveling through as a pedestrian or cyclist. Plus, when I pass people I know, I have time to greet them.
    7. Taking transit to the airport is a fraction of the cost of taking a taxi, and doesn’t require any short- or long-term parking.
    8. It’s easy for me to stay in shape. Since I walk or bike round-trip to work or school every other day or so, I get at least three hours of cardiovascular exercise every week. Even during weeks when I’m lazy (that is to say, most weeks) and didn’t get to the gym or to yoga class, I’m still keeping fairly healthy.
    9. Walking and talking on my cell phone at the same time doesn’t put anyone in danger (as long as I’m not trying to jaywalk).
    10. I love the sense of camaraderie I get when biking home along the nearest bike path during rush hour. There are always twenty or thirty other cyclists doing the same thing, and it feels like we’re saving the world.

    Indeed, I think the cons to owning a car in the city far outweigh the pros. But I’m looking forward to having an AutoShare membership, because it turns out that going to Ikea by bike doesn’t work, and trying to carry bookshelves home on the subway also doesn’t work.

    Good Buys

    In: clothing

    4 Aug 2009

    My feet are tingling just looking at this picture.
    Heaven comes with insoles & extra wax packets. Photo by me.

    Royal Bank is having an Inner Saver contest, wherein entrants gave their best saving tip. Faced with the screen, the best advice I could come up with was “cheap doesn’t save anything.”

    I could’ve just written in “Blundstones.”

    I bought my first pair of Blundstones in 2002. I had just taken a full-time job editing a University of Toronto newspaper, and my boots got quite a workout as I ran around campus doing all the shit I had no idea an editor had to do.

    I wore them one December when I took an impromptu trip to the south of France; I used them to hike in Ireland. They held up admirably to Toronto’s winter streets (though I had to wear two pairs of socks with them for that, since they’re not lined) and spring mud. They came with me to Halifax, and I spent a February weekend well-anchored against Atlantic winds as I visited every bookstore in town, entertaining the notion of opening my own.

    They kept my feet comfortable as I scaled ladders and scaffolding when I worked as a stage tech, and they also kept me comfortable over seven years as I clerked at bookstores, working particularly well over Christmas when I was pulled three ways at once and couldn’t get off my feet for hours.

    And now, seven years after I bought them, they’ve got a hole. Sadly, it’s not in the sole – I could get that fixed; there are places that exist just to do that, just for Blundstones – but in the uppers. So I have to retire them.

    I bought them for $140, but the final cost was $20 a year, or 5.5 cents a day.

    In sum, well-made things save money, and time, and improve your life. It’s important to remember that and overcome the knee-jerk loathing some of us (by which I mean me) have about spending money.

    Tomorrow I’m buying a new pair of Blundstones. They’re going to make my life much, much easier. And they’ll cost me about $150, and I’ll have to take a deep breath before I hand over my credit card.

    On Friday I got a note from my student loan program: “Please check the status of your online application. It has been changed.”

    There have been, as you can imagine, no previous instances when a note like that meant anything good. The last time I got such a notice, I clicked over to the website to read “we regret to inform you that since you are failing your courses, your loan for next semester has been suspended,” which, of course, made my heart rate spike through the roof, since a) as far as I knew, I had passed all my midterms and b) I’d already arranged to go on flex-time for my job for the second semester of classes, and no loan would mean no way to afford school.

    (It turned out someone had meant to click the ticky-box for “you are not enrolled in enough classes, please contact your load advisor” and had instead clicked “you are failing, please contact your load advisor.” NO LOVE, student loan program!)

    So! I was a little worried, on Friday, to see that email. And then I was totally surprised to find out that the change? was that half of my loan has been converted into a grant.

    Halla! Thank you, government of Ontario! I am glad you approve of my change-of-life plan!

    About this blog

    Living With Money is an amateur, Canadian, urban, feminist personal finance blog.