For some, frugality is a way of life
By Nadia Lerner
Leonor Chute would make a great poster child for Ben Franklin’s
adage, ‘‘A penny saved is a penny earned.” ‘‘Why
leave the lights on, why let the water run, why use paper towels when
you can use a regular towel,” says the Norwalk, Conn., resident
whose prudent ways are ingrained in her daily routine. Peruvian-born Chute
says her money-saving strategies allow her to channel funds toward the
fun things in life, such as dining out with friends.
Leonor Chute enjoys getting the most out of products many people
throw away without a second thought. Here, she shows the way she
learned how to neatly fold plastic grocery bags in high school.
The Stamford Advocate photo by Andrew Sullivan |
‘‘In a Third World country, you don’t have luxuries
and disposable things,” she says, recalling a man she encountered
years ago in a small Peruvian village where water was scarce.
‘‘This skinny and undernourished man was carrying gallons
of water on a pole on his shoulder. I always think of that little man
when the water is running.” Thriftiness, once a key component of
the Puritan work ethic, has given way to superfluous spending, massive
credit-card debt and mounting personal bankruptcies.
While those caught in the net of overspending might consider people like
Chute frugal, these economy-minded individuals deem themselves wise spenders
and are proud of it.
Arline Morrissey, a senior from Rowayton, Conn., is a frequent New York
City opera and playgoer thanks to her keen eye for bargains.
‘‘I just hate to spend money I don’t need to,”
says Morrissey, who purchases unsold New York City Opera orchestra and
balcony seats discounted for seniors (62 and older) at $15. Easily done,
she explains, by stopping off at Lincoln Center’s New York State
Theatre box office just before curtain time.
“I have never gone when I wasn’t able to get a ticket,”
says Morrissey, who usually attends the Sunday matinee.
And while Metropolitan Opera tickets are more in demand and pricier, Morrissey
procures relatively inexpensive limited view box seats near the stage
for $40 to $60 each.
Far better, she says, than the approximate $250 cost for an orchestra
seat at the same performance.
This year, she and husband Bill enjoyed “Aida,” “Madame
Butterfly” and a Wagner opera in limited view seats where everything,
except a corner of the stage, was well within sight. ‘‘It’s
a way to go to the Met and not spend a fortune,” she says, adding
that these seats must be purchased in person. “You can’t always
get them, but it’s worth a try.”
Arline Morrissey’s brother, Richard Krois, also has his eye out
for buys. By researching cars and prices on the Internet and visiting
various dealers, the Riverside, Conn., resident recently purchased a 2004
Toyota Highlander at a good price from a local dealer.
His timing was excellent, since 2005 models were coming out soon.
‘‘I’m cautious whether I’m buying a car or making
a small purchase,” says Krois, who attributes his cost consciousness
to thrifty parents. ‘‘Growing up we didn’t have a lot
of money and my parents would use (grocery discount) coupons.” While
many things are beyond our control, he says, wise shopping is within everyone’s
reach.
‘‘People like to think they’re getting a deal when they’re
making a purchase,” says Julie G. Bandy, assistant managing editor
at the personal finance Web site, www.bankrate.com.
‘‘Frugal U,” one of the newsletters published by the
site, provides money-saving advice in matters such as pet care, gardening
and organic vegetable purchases.
The Web site runs a monthly cost-cutting tips’ contest, attracting
800 to 1,200 submissions. Among the suggestions, Bandy cites video loans
from libraries, book swaps with friends, buying in bulk and seeking advice
from a pet shop owner when Fido is sick rather than paying the vet.
In Peru, thriftiness came with the territory, says Chute. ‘‘You
didn’t think of it; it was just the way it was.”
Before plastic bags became commonplace, shopkeepers wrapped everything
in brown or white paper tied with string. Stacks of paper and string were
always plentiful in her home. ‘‘Funny part is when I came
to the States, I still saved string,” says the part-time secretary.
‘‘When people at the office needed some, they knew where to
go.”
When Christmas rolls around, Arline Morrissey has no problem picking out
gifts. ‘‘I have a closetful of stuff,” she says. ‘‘I
can’t resist a really good bargain. In one place, I bought 50 candles
for $4, still in their original cellophane. I figure someone can use them.”
But sometimes frugality borders on downright cheapness. Greenwich, Conn.,
floral designer Loretta Stagen says while most of her clients are easy
to work with, there’s the occasional bride’s mom who requests
free leftover flowers to decorate the wedding cake or platters of hors
d’oeuvres.
There’s a difference between being thrifty and being cheap, says
Stamford, Conn., psychologist Susan Casden. Being thrifty ‘‘may
apply to people who have worked hard and are afraid they are going to
lose it.
A cheapskate implies that someone has enough and they don’t want
to part with it. It’s not frugal or thrifty, it’s cheap—-a
very different connotation, I think.”
Cheapness is ‘‘a personality thing,” says New York City
etiquette doyenne Charlotte Ford, recalling a friend’s husband who,
despite his wealth, hates picking up the check. ‘‘Sometimes
it does get annoying,” she says of the man. ‘‘It’s
hard to be around somebody who is that way all the time.”
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