so they reckon that the reason i'll never afford a house of my own is because i am frivolous with my avos on toast. that the monthly brunch with the girls is the major roadblock to me getting on the real estate ladder. that drinking imported coffee will ultimately be my financial downfall later in life when i don't have a pension to support or sustain my lifestyle. and to them i say: are you fucking kidding me?!
i live in the most expensive city in the world, fending for myself, and making my hard-earned pennies stretch as far as they can. and i do mean streeeetch. in any one month i will have to make so many decisions about what's more important to pay for with my wages, and force myself to really stick to the budget i have worked out so that i can afford to save some money for later in life, while still living my best life now. spoiler alert: that budget includes coffee. and brunch. and lots, and lots of travelling.
i remember watching modern classics like 'sex and the city' and drew barrymore rom-coms back in the day, thinking just how utterly fabulous it would be to "go for brunch" with the girls. to sit in a cool, inner-city restaurant in the afternoon sun, drinking bubbles and eating breakfast food (long after breakfast was over), and gossiping about our lives. back then it seemed so.. aspirational. this was when the closest we got to this was a "sunday session at the bay", which in australian roughly translated to "happy hour beers and hot chips at the beach". hardly the stuff those new york dreams are made of.
but, then came london. ohh, london. in its constantly struggle to keep up with the big apple (and its fabulous counterparts), it brought the concept of brunch into my small-town life, and i instantly found my groove. whether it be bottomless, or retro themed, or completely and utterly calorie-ridden, brunch has slowly become my jam. for me, brunch is the new going out. which is awesome, because i literally hate going out; getting dolled up and drinking expensive drinks, and having to listen to awful music while trying to avoid people touching me, or talking to me in general, is the stuff my nightmares are made of. so give me unlimited bellinis and maple bacon pancakes with a side of gossipy chat, and i am in heaven. brunch is my bae.
tee c/o joanie clothing | skirt c/o george | shoes : new look
and, to these idiot-in-chiefs who seem to think i'm spending too much on smashed avos and the right coffee grind, and not putting enough away for my future i say: you don't know me, or my situation. you don't know about the three separate savings accounts i have, where i squirrel away a fifth of my wages every month before splitting my budget into "spending, bills, groceries" funnels for more efficient spending. you don't know that the bag of ground coffee i buy once a week from tesco and keep at work for daily fuel only costs £3.14. you also probably don't even know about lidl, or how i can get a weekly shop there for less than 20 quid.
so, if you're suggesting that the one social outing i look forward to every month, that's within my "spending" budget, that doesn't affect my saving account at all, is the reason i'm not going to be able to buy a house in my lifetime, i think you should probably go and get in the sea. #brunchclub
