Category — luxury on less tips

This is a guest post from my wonderful husband, Tony. You can read more from him at his movie review blog, Screen Savour. But first read about his experiences with an old-fashioned safety razor.

When we began to live the frugal lifestyle, I started looking for a way to become a frugal shaver. Shaving is something that’s required of me (growing a beard isn’t currently an option in my world), and if I’m going to do it, I think my face should feel good afterward. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to drop a fortune to do it.

When I began shaving as a teenager, my first razor of choice was the electric razor for its quickness. But the skin on my face has always been too sensitive, and the electric razor not only irritated my skin but it never gave me the smoothness I wanted. Furthermore, for an electric razor to function well, the mechanical blades inside need to be replaced at least annually. Depending on the make and model of your razor, those can set you back. It wasn’t worth it to me.

Bags of disposable razors are cheap. I’ve used them before, and believe me, the little torn-off pieces of toilet paper covering up my shredded face are proof enough that there’s a reason they’re so cheap. So they’re out, too.

Replacement cartridge razors were my choice for most of my life. I initially used the three-blade model, then upgraded once to the four-blade and again to the five-blade. As the number of blades increased, so did the price of replacing those cartridges.

Replacement cartridge packs for the last razor I used were running me more than $25 for eight cartridge heads. If one cartridge head lasts for two weeks, that means I’m still spending about $100 (depending on the deal) to buy enough cartridges to shave for one year. And that’s not even counting the cost of shaving cream and aftershave!

Earlier this year, I found the solution to my shaving problem in the unlikeliest of places: a pro-environmental lifestyle magazine. The magazine urged readers to abandon the replacement cartridges (which waste tons of plastic each year) and convert to using a safety razor.

The safety razor is the cast-iron skillet of the shaving world. If you buy one and properly care for it, you’ll never have to buy another.

It’s an old-school device that screws together and sandwiches a single sharp, steel blade between two layers of polished and brushed metal. All that is exposed is the thin edge of the steel blade. When the blade becomes dull, the safety razor unscrews and all you throw away is a thin piece of steel (which is completely recyclable).

The device is very retro in appearance, and although it takes a little while to get used to, the shaves have been unparalleled.

You pay up front for the safety razor. The actual handheld device cost me about $25, which is on the lower end of the spectrum. (Editor’s note: Price of one safety razor = price of 8 disposable cartridges. Just saying. )

The real savings come in the replacement blades. They’re very sharp and functional, but also thin and cheap. Amazon is selling a pack of 30 razor blades right now at less than $15. That’s 50 cents per blade, compared to over $3 each for replacement cartridges. Even if I changed the blade every week, I would only spend $26 a year on razors. If I changed the blade as often as I did replacement cartridges for my old razor (every other week), I would spend just $13 a year.

I can’t speak to how well a safety razor works on shaving legs, but my face and wallet have been thankful for the change.

So there you have it. If you’re tired of filling up landfills and spending a fortune on plastic replacement cartridges and you’re willing to try something new, the safety razor might be right for you. It would make a great gift for the frugal, environmentally conscious man in your life.

Over the weekend, Tony and I were picking up a gift card as a Christmas gift for his grandparents. A month ago when we worked out our Christmas budget, we agreed upon an amount that we could afford. But as we stood in line I found myself second guessing our decision. “Do you think this is enough?” I asked him.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. I ask myself that question almost every time I buy a gift. “Is this enough?”

That’s a pretty silly question, though, isn’t it? Enough for what? After all, anybody who would receive a gift only to think it isn’t good enough really doesn’t deserve the gift at all.

Of course I wasn’t worried that Tony’s grandparents would feel that way. They’re probably not expecting anything from us at all, and they’ll be thrilled that we thought of them. So where does this doubt come from?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this doubt is more about me than it is about them. I enjoy giving gifts to the people I love because it makes them happy, but the desire to give more than I can afford comes from the same place as the desire to buy fancier things than I can afford.

It’s a tough thing to admit, but in the past I’ve used gift-giving as a status symbol. I’ve charged up credit cards and spent money I didn’t have on gifts. I’m sure the people who love me would be horrified if they knew that buying them gifts was putting me at financial risk. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to risk their financial security to buy something for me.

I told myself that I was being generous. I wasn’t being generous, though. It was quite the opposite. Buying those fancy gifts made me feel good about giving them. Sure, it made the person who received the gift happy, but that’s not the real reason I was doing it. The people I love would be just as happy with a thoughtful gift that I could afford to give, whether it be something small, homemade, or even baked. The truth is, I liked the way it made me feel to give fancy gifts.

The past couple years have taught me valuable lessons about spending that I’ve learned to apply to gift-giving. Spend only what you can afford, and give only what you can give.

I’m still tempted to break my gift budget, but I have to remind myself that the people who love me would much rather I didn’t risk getting myself into trouble. After all, the safety and financial security of the people I love is much more important to me than receiving Christmas gifts. When I’m tempted to overspend, I remind myself that the people who love me want the same security and safety for me much more than they want presents.

The holiday season is a great time to make the people I love feel special. Spending more than I can afford just isn’t the way to do it.

If you’re like me, then you found yourself staring longingly at the fresh turkeys this year, convinced that they must taste better. After all, they’re fresh.

OK, so I’m not convinced that they do taste better. My husband swears by it, though. I’ll admit, the idea of skipping the thawing process with a huge turkey taking up half my fridge for a week before Thanksgiving is appealing to me. But there’s no way I’m ever going to spend $1+ a pound for fresh turkey when the frozen ones are on sale for 49 cents a pound.

I was kicking myself yesterday, though. You see, this year Tony and I went to a potluck for Thanksgiving Day and cooked our own Thanksgiving meal yesterday. We ran out to the store for a few last minute items yesterday and discovered that fresh turkeys were deeply discounted. They were actually about 40 cents a pound.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” my husband asked.

He’s right. We’ve known since before we bought our turkey that we would be cooking on Friday. It makes perfect sense that fresh turkeys would be dirt cheap the day after the holiday. What else are they going to do with a bunch of fresh turkeys with a sell-by date a week away?

Next year we’ll try a fresh turkey, and we’ll only pay 40 cents a pound. I don’t mind cooking a day late if it’s just us again.

Photo by kevinmarsh

Tonight is the first genuinely cold night of the season. I’ve spent the evening bundled up in multiple layers under a big comforter on the couch. And you know what goes best with a cold night? Hot cocoa.

When I told Tony I was craving it, he offered to run up to Starbucks with the gift card we’ve had since the wedding. I didn’t want to go out in the cold, though, and I knew he didn’t either. No, I said. We’ll make it at home.

A quick look in the refrigerator, and I realized we were running low on milk. If we made hot cocoa tonight, we might not have enough for cereal in the morning, which would mean a trip to the grocery store tonight.

I started rummaging around in the cupboards to see if I could find something else to satisfy my sweet tooth. Nothing. But I did find some powdered milk that I bought a little while back for homemade bread.

Tony found this recipe for homemade hot cocoa mix. Amazingly, we had everything on hand — just barely. The recipe pretty much tapped out our supply of cocoa, powdered sugar, and powdered milk. (Note: We didn’t have any cayenne pepper, so we left it out. Instead, we used cinnamon. Ours turned out delicious, but if we had cayenne we definitely would have used it!)

We filled a huge Mason jar with the homemade mix, so we’ll have hot cocoa to last us all through winter. Just add water! Every bit as delicious as any hot cocoa I’ve ever had, but so much cheaper than regular milk (and definitely cheaper than Starbucks)!

Tony and I don’t eat a lot of red meat. Occasionally we’ll grill a nice lean steak, but we eat more chicken than beef. It’s mostly because when we do buy ground beef, we like to buy very lean beef, usually about 90-94% lean. Have you seen the prices for lean beef? It rarely falls below $4 a pound. We’d just as soon cook with chicken, which is healthier and only $2 a pound.

This week, Tony had a craving for Shepherd’s pie. We were picking up our Thanksgiving turkey and some steaks on sale. We needed beef for the pie, but I wanted to save some money. I decided for this week that the extra 10% fat in the $2 a pound ground beef wouldn’t kill me.

I was shocked at how much extra fat cooked out in the pan. We’ve been cooking with lean beef for so long that I’ve gotten used to seeing very little fat in the pan.

We cooked all of the fat out, drained it completely, and patted it down with paper towels to remove the excess fat. And you know what? It was basically the same. Obviously, I can’t say for sure that it was just as lean as the 90%, but it sure seemed like it once it was drained well.

I know, this one seems like a no-brainer, but it’s a revelation for me. I’ll never pay $4 a pound for ground beef again. That works for me!