• All About Fern
  • I Didn’t Get The Job

    The truth is my eating is out of control. Chocolate biscuits for breakfast, potato chips for lunch, litre after litre of Coca-Cola. All the weight I lost last year is back. My middle is rounder than ever before. Still, I eat. And I eat. And I eat.

    I really hate 2017.

    This year was going to be my year for making the best of things. My plan was not to plan. To forget about new houses, new opportunities, new anything. I was going to be content with my life, and I was going to get through each day without telling myself I needed something new. I was going to be happy.

    Then I saw a job opening that I couldn’t not apply for. I applied. I interviewed. I sat on a bus for seven hours just to go in and meet with them, so I could prove that I was enough. Good enough. Cool enough. Worthy of a position within a design company. I got scared before my meeting and went and spent $640 on designer clothing. It was a lot, but it was okay, because I was going to get the job.

    I didn’t get the job.

    I sat at a ping pong table and answered all their questions. They asked me things, you see, but it wasn’t an interview. Oh no. It was just an informal get together where I had to take a seat and tell a group of strangers all sorts of things about myself. Fern as an animal, Fern as a wife, Fern as a daughter, Fern as a child… And I even told them about how Fern hasn’t always been my name. I told them my “real” name. And then I went back home on the bus, over eight hours on the bus that time.

    And I didn’t get the job.

    It was the ultimate rejection. It wasn’t just professional, it wasn’t just skill. It was about fit. Personality. Flair. And after all the personal questions, the friendly conversations, there was a minute-long phone call – it’s a No – and that was that. The end. Goodbye. And it’s almost like none of it even happened. But guess what…

    It happened.

    The truth is that I’m relieved I didn’t get the job. My gut tells me that something wasn’t quite right, that’s why the bus ride home was so awful. That’s why I knew it wasn’t actually going to happen. But the experience has affected me all the same. My brain is back to its old ways. What’s the point what’s the point what’s the point.

    What is the point?

    The truth is that everything seems pointless right now. The effort to write for you, upload for you, share my life with you – it’s pointless. It really is. What’s the point in adding one more voice to the millions of others already out there screaming Pay Attention To Me? Who’s really listening anyway?

    All these bloggers, all these YouTubers, what are they hoping to achieve? A few will go places, the majority will go nowhere. We share mediocre content about our mediocre lives, and we tell ourselves that if we just put it on the internet it’ll be important somehow. God, it feels so pointless.

    I keep searching for change, looking for the new. So now I have a shaved head, and some extra possessions, and a husband who’s not happy with the way I’ve rearranged the furniture. The shaved head’s okay, but the other two make me feel bad. So I eat. And I eat. And I eat.

    All the eating makes me feel bad too.

    – Fern xxx

     


    Oh, past Fern. You were so full of hope…

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  • All About Fern
  • The Makings of a Real Woman

    I’m one week out from shaving my head. One. You are probably wondering how I am feeling. Am I regretting my decision yet? You might imagine I am, but nope. I’m not. In fact I can’t freaking wait to shave my head.

    I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube videos. Being a YouTuber myself that doesn’t sound particularly newsworthy, but rather than sticking to what shows up on my subscription feed, I’ve been searching out women with shaved heads. I’ve seen pros and cons videos, Shave for a Cure promos, and women who decided to give themselves a buzz cut just because.

    I don’t even have the words to explain how these videos have made me feel, but I tell you what. Women with shaved heads are bloody beautiful. They are not brave. They are not reckless. They are normal people who understand that hair is overrated. I mean, really. What even is hair?

    My four favourite videos from the past week:

    Yesterday I hit my fundraising goal. I’ve now collected over $1,000 for Leukaemia & Blood Cancer NZ. It was a great feeling, of course, but I’m going to increase my goal now. I’m not ready to stop just yet. I still have a week to go. I still want more. I’ve listed my ponytail on Trademe, I’ve got interviews lined up with journalists, and everywhere I go I’m telling people, Yeah so I’m shaving my head soon! Most people are cool with it. Some people are weird.

    There’s so much pressure on us (women, I mean) to be pretty. For whatever reason society seems to think that we need to try harder to look good than men do. We should get up and do our hair and put on make up and wear nice clothes. We should rid ourselves of any hair that doesn’t grow from our scalp (though we are allowed big eyebrows now, aren’t we lucky?!). We should get manicures and facials and we really should eat less cake, and I don’t know about you, but I’m effing sick of it. I am done. If I want to fart and burp and walk around with dirt under my nails then I’m going to. None of that is what makes me a woman. Why should I have to prove that I’m a real woman anyway?

    It’s always been strange to me that in the animal world it’s the males who have to make the effort, while we humans work the opposite way. Male animals are almost always brightly coloured and beautiful, going to great lengths to impress the ladies. I mean, have you seen those boy birds performing their little dance routines? Or the ones that spend months building the perfect little love shack, just for a shot at getting a Yes from a girl? It seems ridiculous to me that men, boys, go around telling women they are gross because they have pubic hair. Come on. Do they really think that denying us access to their genitals is a punishment? Trust me, dudes. It’s not.

    One thing I’m always telling my kids is that boys and girls can look, act, and dress anyway they like. My son wears dresses often, and tends to pick out pink or purple over blue or green. That is cool. My daughter rides around on a black and orange “boy’s” bike, and spends hours playing with toy trains. That is also cool. Next week I’m going to shave off my hair, and I may not ever grow it all back again. And yeah, I think that’s cool as well.

    To me, being cool is being true. True to yourself. True to your spirit. And my spirit is telling me to just let go of all this hair. So I’m gonna. With or without it, I know what it takes to be a woman. A real woman. And no matter what I look like, that is exactly what I am.

    – Fern xxx

    Please sponsor me to Shave for a Cure, if you haven’t already!
    Or hey, go and place a bid on my ponytail?
    All money raised goes to Leukaemia & Blood Cancer NZ.

     

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  • All About Fern
  • Eff off, February (March is going to be HUGE)

    February sucked big time. I’m not even being dramatic. It was the worst. I failed at not spending money, I failed at getting a job, and I failed to stay on top of my mental health (without going into details, I missed a couple of days of medication because I “got too busy” and didn’t get my prescription filled when I should have). So. I ended up spending a good chunk of my February crying, fretting, and consuming more sugar than the average 33-year-old woman eats in a year, let alone a month. And now I’m feeling a little bit fat. Again.

    It’s time to leave all that crap behind me.

    Today is the first of March. The first of March makes me happy. It feels like the perfect opportunity to start over; to quit talking about not spending money, and to start talking about other things. More interesting things. For example…

    I’m going to shave my head.

    I’ve always talked about shaving my head. Sometimes seriously, sometimes jokingly, and sometimes just to attract a bit of attention (women wanting to shave their heads tends to be a bit of a show stopper). And though I’ve always promised myself that I’d do it some day, I don’t think I ever once considered doing it that day. For me, head shaving has been a bucket list item that I wasn’t fully prepared to tick off.

    Well, eff it. I’m tired of thinking about it. I’m tired of saying One day. I’m tired of brushing irritating little baby hairs out of my face. I am done with living this hairy headed life.

    When I googled Shave for a Cure this afternoon, I discovered that March is the month. Aucklanders can sign up to get their heads shaved by a “celebrity” (I use quotation marks because this is New Zealand, so it’s bound to be someone lame), while plebs like me can just go along to Farmers where a random person will turn beauties into baldies. It all sounds kind of terrifying; I signed up then and there.

    Yep. I’m actually going through with this.

    There’s a catch, of course (there always is). And it involves money. Your money. If you’ve got some going spare, that is… I hate to ask, because it’s awkward, but the whole point of signing up to Shave for a Cure is to raise money for people with leukaemia and other blood cancers. Maybe you could sponsor me? I set my personal goal at 1k, which is ambitious, I know. But more than 500 people reckon they like me on Facebook. And more than 1,000 people sometimes watch my videos on YouTube. And though I’m sure there’s quite a large overlap there, I feel like I could do it. I think I might be able to raise that much. You gotta set yourself goals, right? How else do you determine whether you’re a winner or a loser?

    So the date’s locked in: I have 22 more days of life with hair, and then that’ll be it. I might look ugly. I might look man-ish. I might wish I hadn’t done it. But whatever happens, it’ll be okay. It’s only hair. It’s not forever. And anyway, none of that matters because there’s no going back now…

    – Fern xxx

    Click here to go through to my Shave for a Cure page. This is where you can show your support by sponsoring me!


    In other (less important) news, this vlog will answer any questions you may have about the aforementioned job that wasn’t…

    Keep Calm and Carry On Linking Sunday
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  • All About Fern
  • I have a Hangover

    It’s not what you think. I wasn’t out partying last night. I wasn’t cuddled up on the couch watching Netflix and accidentally drinking one too many glasses of wine. Nope. This is all emotional. It’s the morning after the day before, and everything that happened – the things I did, I said, I thought – are making me feel sick.

    You have to treat emotional hangovers like real hangovers. You have to drink lots of water and eat all the food and make yourself cup after cup of coffee, even though you really don’t feel like coffee. You take paracetamol and ibuprofen, but you wish you could take something more, something that actually works. And all you can do is think back to the way you behaved and wish you’d done things differently. Why didn’t I ask this instead of that? Why did I think that was a good idea? Why, why, why?

    I’m the sort of person who’s confident in the moment, but full of doubt the second that moment has passed. I’m the kind of woman who laughs easily, but cries about it later. I like who I am, I’m happy being Fern, but when I’m hungover like this I can’t help but wonder if the real Fern is really who I want to be. Not that I can change that. Not that I want to change that. I don’t think.

    Today the baby is needy. I was gone for two days and two nights and now he’s clinging to me. Crying. Clawing at my chest for the milk he needs but doesn’t need. And I am tired. I missed him. I’m glad to be with him. But I want him to just be content, to go and play, to come to me for laughs and cuddles and a teeny bit of milk in the morning, and a little bit more milk at night. Is he hungover too? Did I put him through this for nothing?

    One of the things I love about life is the way I can look back and go, Yes. That is the thing that led me to where I am today. 

    One of the things I hate about life is the way I have to go through things and think, Yes. This is what is going to determine my future.

    Maybe it’s the creative person’s curse, but my mind lives in the future. It takes me to all the ifs and maybes and somedays, when my body is stuck firmly in the definites and actuals and right-freaking-nows. Right-freaking-now I feel sick. Right-freaking-now I am torn. I have to wait and I don’t want to wait. I have to get through today but I don’t want to live through today. I don’t want to be hungover.

    I wish I could just vomit and be done with it.

    – Fern xxx

     

    Run Jump Scrap!
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  • Online Shopping; The Way it Should Be

    Well, it’s over. Frugal February, that is. I failed. Like I actually, really, truly failed. I’m not even going to tell you how much money I spent yesterday (because I feel sick when I think about it, to be honest), but I will tell you that tonight we had Pizza Hut for dinner. Again. It hasn’t even been a week since we ate it last.

    I’m not going to attempt to explain myself. For one thing, I just can’t be bothered. And for another thing I don’t wanna. And anyway, this is my blog so I get to play by my rules. So there.

    Instead, I’m going to change the subject. Ready?

    I’ve been thinking a lot about clothes. I’ve been thinking about how it’d be nice to be one of those people who has a small wardrobe of quality clothing. No Kmart cheapies, no reduced to clear impulse pieces, just a few (okay, several) items that work well together, that make me look good. But what makes me look good?

    I am a fan of online shopping. I like being able to look and look and look at things without feeling awkward. I like making up my own mind instead of being talked into purchases by pushy sales assistants. What I don’t like are the photos. I mean, photos of things are fine, obviously, but the photos of clothing? Not good.

    I am 33 years old and my body has housed four separate human beings. And while those days are behind me, these days my body houses pizza and Coke and potato chips on a regular basis. Thanks to this, er, lifestyle, I now resemble an inverted hourglass: Skinny up the top, skinny down the bottom, and boom boom fatty boom boom in the middle. Am I pregnant? No I am not. My tummy just makes a really good cushion, okay?

    The main problem with a body like mine is that it’s incredibly difficult to clothe. So when I go online to look at what’s available, and I see image after image of skinny minny models, I end up scratching my head. Will her outfit work on me? Will it cling to my matronly middle, or will it hold all my jiggly bits in? Am I just supposed to guess?

    The thing with the internet is that it’s infinite. We’re not going to run out of space. Websites can get bigger and bigger and bigger… The internet is basically an online universe. And yet fashion sites are so limited. Would it be too much to ask that people of all body shapes and sizes are photographed wearing the clothes that businesses want us to buy? I mean, we all know that people with tight, flat, toned bodies look good in clothes. What we really need to know is whether or not people who look like us will look good in the clothes we find appealing.

    What I propose is that online clothing stores start taking photos of a whole range of people wearing their outfits. Then we, the consumers, can search by body type. Like I could select “No boobs, fat tum, square bottom” and some poor woman who looks a lot like me would pop up, looking completely awful in a whole bunch of photos, but really, really amazing in the rest. And then on every good photo I would click the little add to cart button (because obviously I’d just have to buy all the clothes she wears well) and I’d type in my husband’s credit card details (which I know be heart) and then we’d all be winners. Seriously, how is this not a thing?

    – Fern xxx


    The only part of Frugal February I’ve managed to stick to has been my plan to cut back on groceries each week. This haul’s a little different because I included a look inside my pantry, fridge and freezer…

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  • All About Fern
  • I am The Best (and also The Worst)

    I was planning to write this blog post yesterday, but everyone who blogs was writing about Valentine’s Day and I gotta tell ya, that’s enough to put me off blogging for life. No offence or anything, I just reckon V. Day is v. lame. But that’s just me. Also me? Kind of good at making excuses for things like not blogging when I feel like I should be blogging. I might put that on my CV.

    So yesterday, the 14th, was the official Halfway Through Frugal February point. I feel like I should have some sort of exciting anecdote to share, like maybe some people would’ve found some sort of penny pinching way to celebrate that milestone? But no, not me. Much like my feelings toward the day of V’s, I felt pretty meh about it all.

    But that’s probably because I’ve already failed.

    The saddest part about failing is the fact that I didn’t even spend money on something good. I could’ve bought clothes, or shoes, or just taken the baby to get the haircut he so desperately needs, but instead I bought fish ‘n’ chips. And coke. So not only have I failed at not spending, but I’ve failed at not eating sugar too. I am the worst.

    On the other hand, I am also the best. Because after the fish ‘n’ chips and coke, and – okay I admit it – after the Pizza Hut and coke I bought the day after I bought the fish ‘n’ chips (this is why I look pregnant, just FYI), I got myself back on track. I didn’t rush off to Kmart to buy all the things I’ve been thinking about for the past 14 days. I didn’t overspend on groceries when I placed my online order. And I didn’t take the remaining cash the husband found in his drawer last week to carry around in my purse just in case.

    There was a bump in the road, but I got myself back on track. And considering only a month ago money was running through my fingers like I sand, I reckon I’m winning. Maybe I should go and buy a Lotto ticket…

    – Fern xxx


    The easiest way to find out what I’ve really been up to is to watch it unfold for yourself. Just don’t watch it if you’re not interested in hearing me talk about chickens, because holy crap I talked a lot about chickens. Bok, bok, bok.

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  • All About Fern
  • The Road is Long

    This morning I was feeling all pleased with myself because I’m doing so amazingly well at not spending money. Then I looked at the calendar and realised it’s only the sixth of February. Oh. There’s still a long road ahead of me. A really long road, if the first (not quite) week of the month is anything to go by… Does anyone else feel like it’s been February forever? No? Just me?

    Yesterday I spent money. I know. I know. But my mother had invited the troops and I over for a BBQ lunch, and she was shouting (lunch, I mean, not yelling at me), and then she messaged me to ask could I possibly break my Frugal February plans and pick up some “nice fresh bread for lunch”. What was I going to do? Say no?

    We stopped at the bakery and I exchanged seven dollars and forty cents for two loaves of Nice Fresh Bread.

    I miss that seven dollars. Hell, I even miss the forty cents. That is money I will never get back.

    I kind of did get the money back though, because all my ranting about minimalism and consumerism obviously affected my husband in some way. Today he cleaned out his top drawer. Do you know how long it’s been since he cleaned out his top drawer? Well, to be honest I can’t actually say. But what I can say is that he found a Christmas card we received when I was pregnant with the kid who turns four next month. And that Christmas card contained Three Hundred Dollars.

    He found another fifty dollars floating around in the drawer too. So that means that we are now up $342.60, which is great. But, you know, it could’ve been $350…

    In other news, my tight ‘n’ light grocery shop doesn’t look like it’ll be enough to sustain us for the week. We’re out of Weetbix (okay fine, Homebrand Wheat Biscuits). And bananas. And I estimate we only have one cup of oats left to go. Looks like breakfast will be toast for six for the next few days. Hmm, I guess that Nice Fresh Bread will come in handy after all.

    – Fern xxx


    Thankfully we won’t be running out of lunch foods any time soon. I have been a very good girl this weekend, planning and baking for the week ahead. Somebody give me a medal!
    (Oh, and then strip me of that medal because there is a freaking TYPO in this video. I can’t even handle it. I didn’t see it until it was uploaded. Wah!)

     

     

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  • Health & Wellbeing
  • A Fire in my Belly

    Something is happening to me. My month of no spending, my efforts to reconsider my relationship with money, spending, shopping, are stirring things up inside me. There is a fire in my belly. I am ready to change.

    After watching that documentary on minimalist living the other night, I searched through all the other docos Netflix has to offer, and added a bunch of them to my watchlist. “Fast fashion” had been mentioned in Minimalism, and I wanted to learn more about it.

    I stumbled upon The True Cost, and decided that’d be my entertainment for the evening. And oh, it made me feel sick.

    I was wearing a Kmart nightie. My favourite nightie. It’s black and falls to my knees. It’s comfy yet cute, with lace detailing and a faux cross-over at the bust. It makes my boobs look nice, and it makes my boobs easily accessible (for the baby, I mean). It cost me $18, or maybe it was $15? Either way, that nightie ticked all the boxes for me. It was cheap. I love cheap. Cheap is good, right?

    I don’t want to sit here and write out all the things I learned last night, because it’ll be better, more confronting, if you just watch the documentary for yourself. But because I know a lot of you won’t, let me just say this: A real human being, with real thoughts, real feelings, a real life, made the clothes you are wearing right now. They pieced it together, sewed it into life, and – if it was cheap – it’s likely they were barely compensated.

    Clothes are polluting our planet. Your discarded items are releasing toxins into the earth as they waste away (or not) in landfills. The factories in which our “bargains” are created are spewing filth into rivers, oceans, skies. You may have paid just $4 for your T-shirt, but what is the true cost? What the f*ck are we doing?

    I am full of a sort of jittery, gotta-do-something energy today. I feel powerless yet powerful. I have the means to change. The love I felt for Kmart just five days ago is fading. My flame of passion is dying out. I do not need things to be happy. I do not want a wardrobe full of clothing that could have cost a mother her life. Something’s got to give.

    Something has got to give.

    – Fern xxx

     


    It feels trivial now, but I uploaded this video to share the foods I bought to fuel my family for a week, spending $50 less than I usually would. If you’re after a more light-hearted watch, then maybe this’ll appeal…

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  • The Frugal Life

    Okay, so I can hardly claim to be living a frugal life when I’ve been at this thing for two days, but I’m pretty sure there’s a saying out there that suggests it’s good to start out the way you intend to be. Or do. Or something. I’m too lazy to google it, and anyway, I don’t really like quotes.

    To contradict myself, I would now like to share a quote that comes from Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things (it’s on Netflix, you should watch it).

    Love people and use things, because the opposite never works.

    I know. Deep. But it’s true, don’t you think? We should spend more time loving each other, truly being with each other, than looking out for things, stuff, that we think will make us “happy”. I mean, how exactly will a new candle, or an expensive bottle of perfume, or a 10th over-sized coffee mug impact our lives in the long run? After the thrill of the new has worn off, is that purchase going to become a treasured memory? Or is that item going to become just one more thing you need to dust…

    I’ve been looking at my house differently today. Even after 100 days of Sh*t Sorting towards the end of 2016, I can still see junk everywhere. Thanks to Christmas (and my overwhelming urge to Buy All The Things in the lead up to the holidays) we’ve added new junk to the old junk. To my left is a window through which I can see our back yard, and it’s a mess. A jumble of faded plastic contraptions my kids have been programmed to believe they need. To my right is a drawer in which there are two phone covers, neither of which have been removed from their original packaging. I bought them because I had a new phone. I bought them because they were cheap. But all I’ve ended up with is unnecessary clutter and $11 less in my bank account. Wasted money is not a bargain.

    It’s not easy to change overnight. In fact, I can honestly say I haven’t really changed at all, because this morning I ran into a friend who mentioned that perhaps she’ll go out on the town to celebrate her birthday this weekend. Immediately I said I would come. Music! Drinks! Fun! But that all equals money, and I’m not supposed to be spending money. And then I came home and tinted my own eyebrows so I wouldn’t have to pay someone to do it for me. But as soon as I looked in the mirror I thought, Oh I’ll have to go and get them threaded now.

    For whatever reason, Go and spend money (even when I’m actively working towards not spending money), seems to be my first reaction to everything.

    Being the first week back at school, my daughters are all fired up about their new stationary, and how cool everyone else’s books look. They want me to cover their books. They want me to take them to the shops so we can pick out rolls of sticky plastic to spread over the cardboard jackets of their exercise books, because everyone reckons this will help protect their work. But will it? What difference will it make? I could spend the money, buy the junk, waste hours attempting to apply it smoothly… How much enjoyment would my children actually take from it? How long would the thrill truly last?

    I’ve told the kids about Frugal February, about our attempts to spend less, save more, be content with our lot. And they’re okay with it. If you want decorated books, I told them, just find some pictures you like and I’ll help you paste them onto the covers. They seemed happy with that. They are happy with that. Children, it would seem, really understand that money doesn’t necessarily buy happiness.

    – Fern xxx

     


    Another great way to save money is to prepare your own foods rather than buying pre-packaged stuff as much as possible. Check out this video for a few tasty, cost-effective lunch ideas.

    Mummuddlingthrough
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  • All About Fern
  • Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

    The weird thing about life is the way we spend so much time looking forward to things. We wait and wait for a particular day, and then the day comes, and then, often, it’s just like, Oh.

    Take today, for example. I sent my kids to school for the first time this year. All holidays long I was all, I can’t wait for these children to be out of my house. And now, as I type, those children are out of my house. Am I making the most of it? Nope. I’m just kind of drifting around, wondering what to do with myself. I even made a pot of soup, for god’s sake, and it’s the hottest month of the year. Why was I so excited about this?

    Because I’m tired of getting excited for no reason, I’ve decided to take a step in another direction. Yes, from now on I’m going to actively work towards things that I’m not excited about. Okay, not things. Just thing. A thing. One. But it’s a big thing. In fact, it’s a Very Big Thing. It’s such an incredibly Big Thing that I think you might want to sit down for this…

    I’m breaking up with Kmart.

    For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past year, I’m basically the Kmart Queen. My YouTube channel is full of Kmart hauls. My drawers are full of Kmart clothes. And you know all those Kmart memes your friends tag you in on Facebook? Yeah, I get tagged in those almost daily. For months and months and months now, shopping at Kmart has been what I do. And I’m not saying I don’t want to do it anymore, but I am starting to think that maybe, just maybe, all those bargains haven’t been serving me quite the way I’d imagined.

    Let’s talk about the clothes I mentioned, for a start. The assorted items I picked up and chucked in my trolley because they looked cute on the hanger; because the price tag had a yellow reduced to clear sticker on it. I packed those items myself, stuffed them into a plastic bag along with the 15 other things that I just had to have, and brought them home. Then, after showing them off to my camera, they went back into the plastic bag. Eventually I’d find time to stuff them into a drawer. And then, weeks later, I’d finally get around to trying the items on.

    I don’t even want to admit how many pieces of my Kmart chic collection ended up being rejected after the first wear. They didn’t fit right or they didn’t look right or they didn’t feel right, and I’d say to myself, Oh well, it was so cheap, it doesn’t really matter. But when you’re buying a lot of cheap things they end up being expensive things. And when I add on all the Kmart clothes that shrunk in the wash (seriously, 50% of all my Kmart purchases have shrunk in the wash) I actually start to feel a bit sick at how much money I have wasted on clothes I do not wear.

    Of course, it’s not just the clothes. It’s the homeware I didn’t need, the toys the kids don’t play with, the craft supplies I still haven’t taken out of the packet… It’s the fact that I’ve been fooling myself into thinking I can shop my way to happiness. I am just another consumer. Even with a boot load of shopping bags I’m not going to be satisfied.

    This morning, soon after I got home and realised that an empty house is not quite as enjoyable as I’d anticipated, I logged into my online bank account and worked out how much money I spent unnecessarily in February of 2016. After I got over the shock (my god it was a lot of dollars), I looked at the total figure scribbled on my notepad and thought to myself, No. You will not do that again. 

    So here I am, on the eve of the first of February, vowing to not spend any money that doesn’t need to be spent for an entire month. I mean, I’ll still be purchasing chickens, because we decided months ago we were definitely going through with the backyard chooks thing, but aside from that? Nothing. No coffees out in town. No impulse buys for the kids. No takeaways on a Friday night. And, depending on how it goes, I might just keep going with the No Spending in March.

    My husband and I are lucky. We don’t have debt (aside from a mortgage, and a student loan I racked up while I floundered around trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life), and we don’t have credit cards. We can afford the things we need (and we can afford a lot of things we don’t need too), but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do what we can to save more money. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t think about where our money is going. What it does mean is that we are in a position to build the life we want for our family. It’s just going to take a bit of work.

    Tomorrow morning my family will wake up to find that Frugal February has begun. It means I won’t be able to take the kids out to the tramp park, but I can always take them to the playground. Or the beach. Or the library. And I reckon that’s enough. I mean, okay, I’m not particularly looking forward to the month ahead, but I am excited about what this change in lifestyle (even if it is only for a few weeks) may bring. Oh wait. No. I’m not going to get excited. Dammit! Why am I such an excitable person? It only leads to disappointment.

    – Fern xxx


    My Kmart hauls have always been popular, but they have got to stop! If only it was as much fun to talk about the things I haven’t bought…

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