Feeling frugal

Frugality runs in my family. We all have a tendency to spend money sensibly and sparingly. We're not the sort to go on wild gambling sprees or buy luxury cars or go on round-the-world cruises.

Whatever I'm buying, I'll always look for a bargain. I steer away from designer clothes with absurdly high price tags. I don't buy fashionable clothes that will probably be out of fashion in six months' time. I don't buy fancy expensive furniture that was recommended in some magazine.

Of course there are some exceptions. I'll pay over the odds for a high-quality pair of shoes. I'll shell out a hefty sum for a foreign holiday. I'll dig deep for a really wonderful original painting.

But on the whole I don't splash my money around. I'm not an impulse buyer and I shop strictly for what I want. I don't go in for retail therapy and I don't go in for flashy purchases like jewellery or mountain bikes or upmarket sound systems. My needs are modest.

My mum always prided herself on her frugality, which got more extreme as she got older. She couldn't resist a special offer at the supermarket, or a cut-price holiday deal, or a dirt-cheap winter jacket. Her frugality was a bit of an illusion though, as she was also a hoarder and had bought so many "bargains" that her flat was completely stuffed with them.

But whenever I saw her, she would always tell me gleefully of her latest bit of penny-pinching, and how on-the-ball she had been. All of which was totally unnecessary because she was very well-off, but liked to prove she was a canny shopper who was never conned into wasting money.

I think any sign of luxury actually horrified her.

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For those of you who've read about the Northern Ireland rioting and might be wondering if Jenny and I are safe, yes we're perfectly safe. The mayhem in west Belfast doesn't affect us because we live seven miles away in east Belfast. So worry not!

Cut and run

If you think you're doing your bit to fight global warming, hang your head in shame at the thought of 67 year old Joan Pick, who is so abstemious her carbon footprint must be virtually zero.

She never heats her flat, she eats all her food raw, she never uses cars or buses, she doesn't have a TV, she uses no gas and minimal electricity, and she makes many of her clothes.

In 1972 she decided mass consumption was a mistake and began cutting back. She's been increasingly frugal ever since, aiming to use the fewest possible resources at her home in Croydon, London.

She lives on nuts, fruit and vegetables, she jogs twelve miles a day, and her car has been sitting in the garage unused for 36 years.

She also gave up on men, realising early on that no man would be prepared to share her spartan, luxury-free existence. "You can't have someone else to contradict you" she says.

All I can say is that I'm astounded at her ability to do without all those things the rest of us regard as essential to a normal lifestyle. There's no way I could give up all those domestic props that make my life more comfortable and convenient. I'm not ready to be a hermit in a mountain cave just yet.

I wonder if from time to time she hankers after a forbidden treat, imagining herself tucking into an M&S ready meal as she watches Coronation Street. No of course not, I'm sure she's overcome those wicked cravings many years ago. She's probably reached the point where she's as incapable of backsliding as a drunkard on a desert island.

But she's certainly a splendid example of how much we could do to stop squandering the earth's resources, if we were just willing to take a deep breath and stop pampering ourselves quite so freely.

PS: I've found two more articles (here and here) on this remarkable woman.