In Defense of Avocado Toast
Can cutting back on brunch really help you buy a house?
By Lindsey Myers
You’ve probably seen all of your friends posting snarky tweets about “spending all of their avocado money on rent.”
This stems from a recent interview with an Australian real estate mogul, Tim Gurner, who claimed that if millennials stopped spending so much money on brunch, we would be further along on our path to home ownership.
“When I was trying to buy my first home, I wasn’t buying smashed avocado for $19 and four coffees at $4 each. We’re at a point now where the expectations of younger people are very, very high. They want to eat out every day, they want travel to Europe every year. The people that own homes today worked very, very hard for it (and) saved every dollar, did everything they could to get up the property investment ladder.” — 9 News
My reaction when I first read this was an exaggerated, Anderson Cooper style eye roll.
First we were blamed for killing the paper napkin market, then the downfall of department stores, and now they come for our avocados? If buying a house was as simple as enjoying the taste of supple avocado on a crispy piece of bread, preferably with cherry tomatoes and balsamic glaze, I would not be sleeping in a room so small I can touch all four walls at once.
After my initial annoyance, I thought more about Gurner’s argument. Eating out is one of the main things I spend my discretionary income on, and something that I’m aiming to cut back on. When I first moved to NYC, I was a master of stretching every penny of my entry level salary (after taxes, just about $2000 a month) to pay rent, utilities, transport fees, groceries, a soul crushing student loan payment, and still have some money left over (note: I’m aware that I’m privileged to even have a job with a salary, a roof over my head, and food to eat- this was just my experience).
I still somehow managed to occasionally eat out. Monday through Friday I pretty much ate every meal at home, but would still be able to grab the occasional lunch out with coworkers or weekend brunch. Could I have saved the maybe $150 I had left each month instead of eating Instagram-worthy food or spending $15 on the occasional Megabus ticket to visit college friends? Absolutely, but then I probably would have spent all my free time staring at a wall. I don’t regret my choice to have a little fun as a 23-year-old in the city, and it grinds my gears to hear this criticism from a man who started his real estate career by borrowing money (equal to my entry-level salary) from his grandfather to help buy his first property.
After a small raise and move to a cheaper (Hallelujah!) and smaller (remember: I can touch all four walls at once) apartment, I have a bit more discretionary income each month. As a result, I am sometimes a bit more frivolous. I still often wake up in a cold sweat thinking about my student loans, but I’m more financially equipped to grab drinks or food with friends. If I don’t have time to make lunch, I can go to the cafeteria and grab a salad without feeling sick to my stomach about spending $6.
However, I get VERY frustrated when I think about how I make a bit more money than I did a year ago, but am still living paycheck to paycheck. A lot of this money, to Gurner’s point, is spent on eating out. There are a variety of external factors, besides just “wanting to eat out every day” that make this true. I’m much more settled and have a lot more going on in my life than I did when I first moved to NYC a year and a half ago. My schedule often leaves me running from work to my next commitment, and getting home late enough that I immediately swan dive into my bed and pass out. Thus, I’ll grab dinner somewhere and eat it on the subway, run out of time to pack a lunch in the morning, and end up buying an overpriced sandwich. I’m making a conscious effort to spend more money at Trader Joe’s, and less at whatever semi-healthy food establishment is closest to the subway stop I’m climbing out of, but I don’t always succeed.
It can be argued that I’m prioritizing my social life over my savings account. And maybe I am. I surely fall into the millennial stereotype of valuing experiences over material things. But as cheesy as it sounds, we do only have one life, and I don’t want to regret not living it to its full potential. One of the things that drives me most crazy about the constant criticism of millennials, is that we’re being compared to how people were living their lives decades ago. Things have changed SO much. We’re more aware of the world around us, we have more careers to choose from, we’re more health conscious (hence excessive vegetable spending), and success is measured in ways besides getting married and signing a mortgage.
I’m honestly not sure if buying a house is something I see in my future. There’s a part of me that dreams of a picket fence/kids/golden retriever life, but the other part loves living in the city. Unless I start making more money than what stashing the $30 I spend on the occasional weekend brunch will save me, I don’t think buying NYC property is in my future. Maybe I’ll be a lifelong renter. If so, that’s fine! I will enjoy my avocado toast in my apartment that I call home and be happy as a clam.
What do you think?
