Modern Conveniences, Selectively Declined
Keeping Up With the Clampetts: A frugal nonconformist’s guide
As a selectively frugal non-conformist, I recently posted this Note:
“I’ve never ordered DoorDash. I’ve never ordered an Uber. I don’t have Netflix.
I’m starting to think I might be a bit of an outlier.”
I didn’t expect that so many other people would chime in with similar stories!
There are a lot of conspicuous under-consumers out there!
In a world of unboxing videos and instant deliveries, who knew so many of us would enjoy flaunting our lack of gadgets?
People were eager to note they’d never watched any of the Kardashian stuff or bachelor/bachelorette shows or other reality shows. (Same).
They don’t have Alexa or other smart devices. (Same).
Or streaming services. (We got rid of Netflix ages ago but did just add a different service temporarily so I could see the final season of something.)
Twitter, TikTok, Threads, Instagram — I canceled Twitter when it became Shitter. I technically have Instagram but could never understand the appeal of it and haven’t checked it for years. I’ve never had the other two.
Cable? I had it for a couple of years in the early 1990s.
But then I felt all wasteful
Someone said they don’t have a dryer or microwave. Oops, I may get kicked out of this club because I have always had a microwave.
I find it the easiest way to reheat leftovers. But as for dryers, I had been without one since 2008 but have to admit I have recently re-joined the dryer brigade — sort of.
I bought my current dryer when my now-32-year-old son was still in cloth diapers. I didn’t hook it up when we moved into this house in 2008 because the knob and tube wiring looked scary. We eventually, over about 12 years, got the whole house rewired. (That process is crazy expensive, even though we did a lot of it ourselves.)
So now we do have a dryer, but I cannot use it routinely without guilt. In summer, I hang laundry on my deck and in winter we use clothes racks. The thing my dryer is really good at, though, is getting all the dog hair off the dog bedding. It all ends up in the lint trap. Before, it was doubtful whether my dogs actually had blankets or just sheets of dog hair.
So yes. I have a giant dog-hair-removal system in my basement that I could, theoretically, use to dry clothes if I didn’t have such a guilt complex about wasting energy. Air drying is free and uses zero resources.
We don’t have a dishwasher. I grew up without one, and the few times I lived in an apartment with one, I was underwhelmed by their performance. I am not convinced they save any time. They don’t last, either. They seem to require replacement every decade. So no.
Besides this, I want a medal for still driving a 20-year-old car — a stick shift, no less. It doesn’t have a screen and cannot connect to my phone. I have always driven small, inexpensive cars. Even when I had young kids, no minivan for me.
On the other hand
I cannot join the Amish just yet because I have an intense love of water heaters. A hot bubble bath is my favorite way to de-stress in winter.
And now for the confession portion of this competition that nobody else cares about. I have a couple of modern conveniences that you would not expect.
An espresso maker. I bought this the first time I wrote a story that made more than a thousand bucks, because it was a story about coffee, How You Drink Your Coffee Shows Who You Are. My husband is Dutch and he has more coffee in his veins than he does blood. We have always made all our own coffee at home, but he missed espresso. The luxury of a home espresso machine makes us both happy every day. I don’t know how much it would cost to purchase two shots of espresso at a coffee shop each day, but no doubt much more than we spent on our machine. My husband asked if I’d like to take the thousand bucks that felt like manna from Medium and get a dishwasher, but I chose the espresso maker instead and have never regretted that choice.
A bidet. This is not optional. It is a necessity. I cannot for the life of me understand how anybody can live without one! Dry paper does not do the job. I mean, if you somehow got a smear of poop on your hand, you would not merely wipe it off with a paper towel and consider yourself clean, right?
An electric grain mill. I started baking bread in 1990, when my daughter was a baby and I figured I could afford to stay home with her only if I took the most extreme money-saving measures. I bought a 100-pound bag of whole wheat flour and some yeast from a milling company, after doing some math and discovering this was the absolute cheapest method of obtaining bread. I now bake sourdough (saves money on yeast!) and purchase the wheat berries in bulk. If I could figure out a way to grow my own wheat in my yard, you bet your baguette I would.
It’s not about being a Luddite or miser
At least not totally. It’s about having spent a lot of years without enough money and having learned how to live nicely without it. It makes me feel clever to live relatively well on far less money than most people would believe possible.
It’s also about the satisfaction of doing things yourself. There is intense pleasure in enjoying a slice of sourdough bread you made yourself from your own freshly ground wheat accompanied by a shot of espresso you just pulled. You cannot buy that satisfaction from a bakery or coffee shop.
You cannot frugal yourself out of poverty
I will scream that message forever. And it’s always worth realizing that everything you do yourself just means you’re spending your time instead of your money.
But also, no matter how much time or money you do or do not have, it’s a very good idea to make sure you’re spending both in a way that aligns with your values and preferences. Don’t just automatically do what everyone else is doing.
You might roll your eyes at my choices and that’s fine. You do you!
How about you?
What have you happily chosen not to have? Tell me in the comments! I’m always looking for good ideas to not buy.
Don’t miss my current special series, Poverty and Privilege, which comes out every Saturday.
Part 1, Unlikely Allies in an Unequal America
Part 2, The Country Club Lunch
Part 3, One Family’s Fall From the Middle Class
About Michelle Teheux
I’m a writer in central Illinois. If you like my work, subscribe to me here and on Medium. I also have a new Substack aimed at authors who want to self-publish books, called The Indie Author. My most recent book is Strapped: Fighting for the soul of the American working class. My most recent novel is The Trailer Park Rules. If you prefer to give a one-time tip, I accept Ko-fi.
All wealthy families are alike; each poor family is poor in its own way.
— Leo Tolstoy, if he had written about a trailer park
For residents of the Loire Mobile Home Park, surviving means understanding which rules to follow and which to break. Each has landed in the trailer park for wildly different reasons.
Jonesy is a failed journalist with one dream left. Angel is the kind of irresponsible single mother society just shakes its head about, and her daughter Maya is the kid everybody overlooks. Jimmy and Janiece Jackson wanted to be the first in their families to achieve the American dream, but all the positive attitude in the world can’t solve their predicament. Darren is a disabled man trying to enjoy his life despite a dark past. Kaitlin is a former stripper with a sugar daddy, while Shirley is an older lady who has come down in the world and lives in denial. Nancy runs the park like a tyrant but finds out when a larger corporation takes over that she’s not different from the residents.
When the new owners jack up the lot rent, the lives of everyone in the park shift dramatically and in some cases tragically.
Welcome to the Loire Mobile Home Park! Please observe all rules.
I live without using many things. I had them from when I was married, but now I find that my happiness relies on my living my values. I live rurally. It's a simple but harder life. I try to grow as much of my food as possible, and yes I have a dryer and it's only used when my kids visit and use it. I'm nearing 70 and I use a stand mixer. I find kneading dough to be quite hard on my hand joints, but I still make my own bread and all other baked goods. No eating out, no buying coffee, no travelling, no money for wine, no 'shopping' as therapy. But I'm still happy. And it probably doesn't sync with what's 'normal' but I don't care. The more I'm not like the rest of society, the more I think I'm on the right track. I guess if I had the money, I'd like a glass of wine every now and then.
We drink out of repurposed glass spaghetti and jelly jars. Furniture is from the side of the road or thrift stores. But we have all the streaming services and a used dishwasher! Life is all about balance and finding joy - thanks for the great article!