“The World’s Largest Chapstick…and Then Some”
Not even two full days had passed before I spent $100. I can usually make it Sunday through Wednesday without spending more than $10. Thanks to my scholarly self, I can afford (figuratively and literally) the brunt of spending that rages out of my weekend self. You see, the weekend and my bank account have an inverse relationship; my dollar amount goes down just as suddenly as an ever dreadful Sunday morning comes up. This particular weekend followed two nights of babysitting, which to me ultimately translated to “treat yoself.”
$34.12, Bed, Bath, and Beyond: I had finally done it. I had finally finished a tube of Chapstick before losing it. But, this was not just any Chapstick. This large, glue-stick resembling coco butter had become a known identity of mine this year, and it was necessary to replace. Also being replaced was one of my pillows that somehow got left on a bus in Atlantic City. Long story short, do not let someone borrow your pillow for a quick trip to “America’s Playground,” or really ever. I spent twenty minutes comparing price and feel, and debating whether the brand that was $10 more seemed any different than the cheaper one in my hand. I opted for the cheaper one knowing I had the whole weekend ahead of me, and added a bottle nail polish on clearance to my cart in checkout line.
$10.00, Fresh Heir Julep at Heirloom: Thursday night my friends met up at the Graduate Hotel’s rooftop bar for a drink. Running late of course, I arrived as the waitress was taking orders and frantically chose the first drink on the list. Unbeknownst to me, a Julep is bourbon and mint, neither of which are flavors I normally like. Regardless, it was better than the cheap alcohol I usually consume, and the ambiance and company were worth the heftier price.
$2.00, Tip on said, “bourbon drink”: This conscious, and “calculated” exchange is when I began to think about the messages that money is able to relay. The amount I chose to tip communicated my level of satisfaction and experience to my server. My friends and I agreed we should tip generously as our server had so graciously printed eight separate checks. As Helleiner talks about in “National Currencies and National Identities,” money becomes an economic language specific to a country. An economic language creates a common form of transaction that’s acts as an understood and meaningful social communication. A tip is a form of money communication that relays a satisfaction.
$8.20, Integral Yoga Natural Foods: Friday morning, more like afternoon, I woke up feeling nutrient deficient and dehydrated. My roommate and I decided the “Green Dream” smoothie from Integral was the very thing that would bring us back to life. When I got to checkout I reminded the cashier that I was a student, anticipating the local student discount. However, I left my student ID at home and he would not accept my word. Although I would have only saved some cents, paying the full price took away a specific feeling of pride and validation I get when I use a discount. However, I also realized that while paying over two dollars an ounce for a short lived drink may seem foolish to some, it is occasionally worth it to me. In Wherry’s “The Social Characterizations of Price: The Fool, the Faithful, the Frivolous, and the Frugal,” he talks about price in relation to the social characterizations and mainstream behavior. In his terms, buying an expensive smoothie I did not need could be considered foolish if I did not have a calculated reason or the funds. But, because I considered the cost and the worth of the smoothie, and I had enough money to spare on it (at the time), my act could have been frivolous or even faithful.
$30, Serenity Nails and Spa: The weekend before this I had gone to Lynchburg for my grandmother’s 79th birthday party. In retrospect, I probably should have gotten this gel manicure before my mom and grandmother had the chance to nag me for my painted, bright blue, chipping, jagged, and ultimately “tacky” nails. But, there I was RIGHT next to the salon, an overpriced smoothie in one hand, and $50 cash from babysitting in other. I looked at my roommate and then my nails and we both decided to continue our pampering. In this situation, I consciously chose to get the more expensive gel manicure because it lasts longer, looks sleeker, and I had enough cash to cover the cost. In Wherry’s terms, I think I made a calculated, frivolous spending choice. I did not have to splurge on the gel manicure, or a manicure at all, but I tend to treat cash like it is bonus money. Unfortunately, in my mind, if I spend cash, I feel like I never had it. Without any trace of a bank statement, or a diminishing electronic balance, it is just as if I had never accepted that extra babysitting job. Sure, I could have deposited or saved the money I had made, but I also could use it to treat myself to a much needed manicure without feeling “foolish.”
$5, Tip on Manicure: Similar to the tip on my drink, the tip to the manicurist is a culturally expected monetary language to communicate my satisfaction with the service. A five dollar, well-deserved tip due to previous state of my nails and because she was a total perfectionist.
$10, Zoom Charlottesville: I was at the nail salon when I remembered I had signed up for a spin class that would have started in 15 minutes. I certainly would not be making the class and had to late cancel, which resulted in an automatic $10 charge to my card. I find cancellation charges very frustrating because the cancellation window is eight hours. In this case, 15 minutes before, I know I deserved a late cancel fee. However, it can be hard to know if something will come up within eight hours of a class. I also think it is interesting that zoom no longer accepts any cancellations on the phone. It used to be that if you called with a valid excuse, they would late cancel your class without a charge. I think it easier to hold someone accountable electronically, when the physical and social interaction is lost. As Ferreira and Perry talk about in their article, digital money has begun to eliminate and change the social interaction and implications of charges and transactions.
Looking back, it is much more obvious to see the social implications, connotations, and connections behind every transaction and penny spent. I realized I felt a sense of an imagined community and economic language, especially with every face to face transaction I made. Because it was the weekend, and I had just earned money, my maybe foolish spending became more frivolous and even faithful in my eyes. Now that spring break is coming up, and I am running low in funds, I look at some of this spending as foolish. I am hoping my definition of “faithful” changes with age. For now, I will have to resort to cereal and Bodos for the next week so I can splurge over break, what a life.