Read your mail. (and why you should leave your bank before your husband)

Letters from the bank. What an annoyance. Now we're all online and paperless, all they're ever doing is updating terms. Leaflets destined for the recycling.

NO. Let me stop you there.

Changes in terms more than likely means that the change is bad news for the customer - for you.

Businesses rarely make changes that benefit the lowly consumer.

So this week, the change of terms from Natwest was telling me, in barely readable point size 7 font, that the interest rates on my savings account was going down. Now of course it didn't state that explicitly - it provided a table of figures for me to decipher under the heading, 'Our rates are changing.' Sneaky.

Magnifying glass may be required

Now, I'm sure you'll have noticed that savings rates aren't too hot at the minute, so my rate can't really cope with taking a hit. And the hit is a whole percentage. So now they'll pay me just over a percentage to loan out my money. Charmed I am not.

But Natwest, unluckily for you, I read your change of terms. And do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to move my savings account to a different bank who'll pay me more.

But of course most of us just can't be arsed.

The internet confirms how loyal we are to our banks. 26 years is the average length of time we'll stick with our bank. Now considering the average marriage is 11 years this is a very worrying statistic indeed.

So if your bank has changed your terms for the worse, for goodness sake, leave. Move your money. Every percentage makes a difference.

Don't stay with a bank longer than you'd stay with your spouse. That really is just silly.

Money Saving Madam: A Memoir

This year is flying by.

I suppose time flies when you’re having… well, fun, I suppose, or some peculiar version of it.

I have decided to celebrate the rename (did you notice the rename) by listing the positive developments that have taken place since I began my blog back in January – and it is all about the positive.

I have written on my blog at least once a week since January.

Lots of lovely people read it each month.

People have laughed, picked up tips and been encouraged. I have been encouraged too.

As per my plan (I knew planning had a place) I have indeed become a published and paid writer.

(I am not going to focus on the fact that this has not allowed me to quit my job and become a brunette version of Carrie Bradshaw.)

I re-embraced the fringe I last sported as a 5 year old, and it is working out well.

I have given up my Zara habit. This is in part due to the money saving, and in part due to developing an unnatural hatred of the manager of Zara. Both have contributed to the paying off of my credit card and steps in the direction of becoming a fully fledged grown up.

I now own a coffee table and have ‘coffee-table’ books on it that make me look intelligent and sophisticated. Some of them have been read.

I bought home-wear from John Lewis for the first time, and realised why people only order home-wear from John Lewis as part of their wedding list - when other people are paying.

I have shunned the fear of change and renamed the blog. Money Saving Madam was great, but she’s stopped writing solely about money saving, and as such, was dabbling in a spot of false advertising.

I hope you’ll stay with me/ embrace the change/ forgive me/ read on.

I really was rubbish at saving money anyway.

How to shop for free

Sometimes, when a girl needs new clothes, she has to get creative.

And so the idea for the Swish was born.

The Dictionary definition of swish is ‘to rustle, as silk.’ But for this purpose the definition is slightly more loosely applied, coming to mean ‘to rustle clothes from friends.’

If you love new clothes, but not the unfortunate side effects on the Visa, perhaps you might try a Swish too? Swishing, readers, is shopping without the guilty spend hangover.

And so, on a sunny Saturday in Edinburgh, I entered into the new-fangled world of swishing. The rails were erected, bucks fizz was poured, cakes were enjoyed, and a group of women came together in the hope of finding something new to wear.  

Running a Swishing party is simple, if you just follow the Rules of the Rail.

1) Everyone must bring at least one item of quality clothing.

2) You will have half an hour to browse before the swish opens.

3) No item may be claimed before the swish opens.

4) As soon as the swish is declared open, everyone may take what they want.

5) Remember no scratching, spitting or fighting.

I am glad to report there was only minimal scrathing and spitting. In fact, what a civilised affair it was.

People came armed with bags of clothes - once loved, something to ‘slim into’, clearly the wrong colour for them, pre-childbirth, a guilty buy with the tags still on, a sale bargain… the list goes on.

I am sure if you ask your friends they’ll have these wardrobe critters taking up their rail space, racking them with guilt, a reminder of money wasted, begging to be given a new and loving home.

Save the landfill. Save your credit card. Swish instead.

I’m already planning the autumn/winter collection.

A Right Royal Budget

Money Saving Madam has been pimping her writing wares.

So I thought I'd share with the bloggle readers the article I'd been asked to write about the financial perils of being a Princess, in light of that big event that is seemingly happening tomorrow.

Enjoy.

Kate Middleton is all set to marry into the British Royal Family, but what sort of financial worries does as a soon-to-be princess have? Do real-life princesses face budgets, money issues or financial stress? Rachel Brown ponders a few of the money challenges Kate Middleton might be facing as she prepares to be the future Queen.

Unless you have been hiding under a rock for the past few months, you cannot have failed to notice that in London, this Friday, a boy named Will is getting hitched to a girl named Kate, and the World will be glued to their television sets to witness it.

But Friday is just the beginning.  Although Kate has been dating Prince William for some time now, and will have some idea of what she is getting herself into; what can she expect her financial life to look like as Britain’s future Queen?

Will Kate be overwhelmed with the wealth of The Royals?

‘The Prince will marry the pauper’, or at least that’s what people are suggesting.  A Royal has fallen for a commoner – blue-blooded William and ‘just plain Kate.’

But the reality is quite far from this. Although a ‘commoner’, Kate Middleton's family are financially very well off. Kate’s parents have built up a comfortable nest egg from a successful online party business, Party Pieces - established in 1987.

The income has contributed to a lifestyle that includes a £1m house in a desirable part of England, and the funds to put their three children, Kate, Pippa and James, through some of the most expensive private schools in Britain, which for Kate alone would have cost an estimated £250,000. 

If and when William becomes King, then Kate’s income will take on a new dimension. The Queen's own assets are estimated at £290m, according to the Sunday Times Rich List. So in this respect, the wealth Kate has experienced in her formative years is a far cry of what is yet to come.

Who will pick up Kate’s wedding bill?

Formal etiquette dictates that the family of the bride should pay for the wedding, but matters are somewhat complicated when you are marrying the future King.

The Royal Family will pay for the wedding.  However, Kate’s family will make a private contribution to the day, and the Government and UK taxpayer will pay for all consequential costs.

Will Kate have her own money?

It is unlikely that Kate will have to sacrifice her own savings and bank account once married, and will most likely retain autonomy in this area. Indeed Kate’s future grandmother-in-law, the Queen herself, has her own funds and finances.

It has long been suggested that the Queen never carries cash or credit cards, as she has assistants who make all required purchases for her. However, if any member of the Royal Family finds themselves short of cash, there is always a handy ATM inside Buckingham Palace – for the exclusive Coutts Bank, of course! 

Will Kate have a job?

It is unlikely that Kate will undertake any paid employment once she and William marry. Until recently she was working for the family firm after a brief post-graduate foray into the outside world working for upmarket clothes store, Jigsaw. 

She is a clearly a bright lady, but at age of 29, the future Queen of England, has rather a thin CV for an A grade Marlborough educated pupil who gained a 2:1 in History of Art from St Andrew's University.

But now, she will be taking on the full-time job of being the wife of Prince William, which will probably occupy all of her time and energy. Catherine Oxenburgh, daughter of Princess Elizabeth of Yugoslavia, said of Kate working, “she most likely will not have a job. She will write a lot of thank-you notes, she will do a lot of ribbon cutting, she will receive dignitaries and appear on behalf of her selected charities. Basically, she will be a public servant with a lot of perks.”

Will Kate be free to spend money as she chooses?

The Royal Family must be very careful how they are seen to be spending money, as their public engagements are funded by UK taxpayer’s money. Their fund is called the Civil List and major royals get payments from it to cover their expenses.

Kate does of course enjoy shopping, and just last week was spotted on the fashionable Kings Road in London – no doubt stocking up her honeymoon wardrobe. The Queen-in-waiting wandered down the shopping street like any ordinary bride-to-be, with just one bodyguard for protection. She could not help but crack a smile as she saw dozens of shops adorned with her name and Union Jack flags in preparation for the big event.

Only time will tell if her public shopping trips continue post nuptials, but in the face of the recession Great Britain is suffering from, Kate would be wise to be seen being careful with money. The Queen herself has encouraged members of the Royal Family to show support to the people during this economic downturn. Through her reign she has been renowned for extolling the virtues of frugality, and stated she would avoid any public displays of extravagance amid growing unemployment and financial strife.  In fact, so frugal is the Queen, that she even collected coupons towards the cost of her own wedding dress.

In order to continue to hold the respect and affection of the British people, Kate would do well to learn lessons of thrift from her Grandmother-in-law.

Ringing in the charges

My mother called me recently to give me the exciting news that my parents now own a cordless telephone.

‘I’m ringing you from the kitchen,’ my mother delightedly squealed.

What a wonder.  Because a phone that is mobile is a brand new idea isn’t it Mum?

This newsflash was also proof that nagging works – albeit rather slowly on my parents. I say this because I spent the majority of my teenage years pleading with my parents to get a cordless phone.

Let me explain why.

The housephone in the Brown household sat in the hallway by the front door. This meant that telecommunication in the Brown household was 1.drafty 2. inconvenient (you had to sit on the staircase to make a phone-call, and thus every time anyone wanted up or down the stairs you had to huff-puff-and move) And 3. Your conversations were entirely public.

I do not miss those days. I did not enjoy offering a public broadcast service to my family, and also loathed the quarter-hourly updates of how much time I had been on the phone for.

My parents claimed the reasons for not moving to a cordless phone operation were twofold: i) the phones are expensive and ii) the phones have poor reception.

I would suggest that the drafty and public location of the phone was truthfully the motivating force. This kept teenage time on the phone to a minimum, and kept the bill right down.

In fact, in the course of writing this I have had a flashback. Something I have kept deeply buried for 14 years. Each of my friends was allocated their own accusatory colour as my father went through the itemised phone bill with his pack of highlighter pens. (She shivers)

Nowadays, so accustomed am I to chatting on my mobile, that when I hear an actual telephone ring I feel compelled to answer it with my best telephone voice, ‘Good Morning, Rachel Brown speaking.’ Yet further proof that I probably need to leave my job.

But it seems that we Britons are not following the frugal doctrines that my father enforced on the phone bill. In fact, how many of us even check our phone bill? Each month we wave goodbye to the direct debit, blissfully ignorant of what we are paying for.

We do not keep our mobile phones in a place where we are reluctant to use them. They are not kept in a dusty and drafty spot. They are with us, ever-present, and ever bloody beeping.

And most worryingly, turns out they are a huge drain on our finances.

British mobile phone users are wasting an average of £195 a year on their mobile phone bills because they are on the wrong contract, a new report has found.

Just over three quarters of people on monthly deals are paying over the odds, signing up to tariffs after wrongly estimating how many minutes and text messages they use.

And many of us do not even know which package we are on. Do you know how many minutes, texts and internet-ing time you are entitled to? Be honest, did you just agree to whatever the salesman suggested because you could get a free Iphone?

And what the hell is a bolt on? Who is roaming? Why do I need streaming? WHAT THE HELL AM I PAYING FOR?

And breathe.

Money Saving Madam’s top tips for not wasting money on phonebills.

1. Check your phone bill each month. Do not just wave a fond farewell to your direct debit payment. Phone companies make mistakes. (Probably quite frequently)
2. Check your allowances and see if you are using them. You can call your provider and ask them to check this information for you. If you are not using them up, then try and negotiate a lower package.
3. If you are about to sign up for a package because of the ‘free’ phone, then wise up and realise it is not free. You may well be better off buying the phone outright and then getting a cheaper monthly tariff. If you don’t take a new handset you can often get rewarded with many hundreds of pounds off your bill.
4. Money Saving Madam’s favourite: Always threaten to leave when your contract runs out. Call up and ask to be put through to cancellations. Explain that you have found a better deal elsewhere. Put in an Oscar worthy performance. The cancellation team (or ‘retention’ team as they are otherwise known) can offer you a far better package than anyone else. It costs them a lot less to keep you as a customer than to recruit a new one.

That’s all for now.

Sorry, but I've got to dash, I need a set of coloured highlighters.

Things my Saturday job taught me

I think I need a Saturday job. This would serve a dual purpose. 1. Keep me out of the shops. 2. Earn me extra cash.

Luckily I have some Saturday job work experience behind me.

I had a brief stint as a paper girl. Because (irritatingly) I attended the Grammar School 2 buses away from my home, rather than the comp around the corner, I was unable to pick up a lucrative morning paper round. Really, what were my parents thinking?

I tried a Sunday morning round. This paid £2 a week. I had to get up 6am. Even at 14 £2 was not worth getting out of bed for. I wrote a resignation letter to the paper-shop, apologising for letting them down and explaining that my school work really did need to take priority as I approached my GCSEs. They said it was the first resignation they had ever received. Silly Grammar School Girl was I.

So instead, I started delivering the free paper. In Wolverhampton, this was the Adnews. I am starting to develop back-pain and can almost certainly pin-point its beginning to this bloody paper round. 500 papers. One trolley and one bag. A determination to take the whole damned lot in one go, (unaware that 13 years later my back would start to pay the price) and a less than lucrative neighbourhood to deliver to. And although they paid me, it was basically free for the Adnews to have me deliver their free paper. I wouldn’t like to speculate, but I’m sure Primark pay their workers more.

Lessons from a Career as a Paper Girl

1. People notice if you deliver their free newspaper (totally devoid of news) late. People are sitting at home waiting for it and will report you for its late arrival.

2. If people have a sign on their gate that warns ‘my dog bites’ – it probably does. And the owner is probably not much friendlier.

3. Don’t be a teenage smoker. Your paper round will not even cover your fag habit. 

4. Fly-tipping your entire week’s worth of papers is wholly illegal but utterly liberating.

By a miracle I managed not to get sacked, bitten by a dog or jumped by an angry Adnews fan, during a long 12 months of hauling 500 papers around the mean streets of Wolvo.

Aged 16 I hung up my paper-bag. I now knew better than writing a resignation letter, so I just stopped showing up. Turns out I was pretty replaceable.

I thought it was probably time I moved to an hourly paid position, and started a career in the glamorous and only slightly more lucrative, McDonalds.

Lessons from a Career as a Burger Flipper

1. I have worked the hardest in my life for that £3 an hour.

2. People think they are automatically superior to you because you are serving them a burger.

3. If you are polite and able to work out change from a fiver, you will never have to flip a burger again and will be promoted to a lifetime on the ‘till.’

4.Whilst this means you no longer face dangerous grill burns or smell of gherkins for days at a time, you are now face to face with the dreaded customer all day long.

5. Giving your friends extra fries/double cheeseburgers/happy meals toys, apparently does constitute theft.

6. You actually have to complete several tests to earn each star.

7.  If you have been a model employee for 2 years, your bosses will believe, (even in the face of damning evidence) that you did not deliberately knock that man’s milkshake all down him.

So if anyone knows of any Saturday jobs going in Edinburgh, please do get in touch. My criteria are: the lugging of heavy objects minimal, limited interaction with angry dogs, higher rate of pay than sweatshops and no requirement to wear a baseball cap.

I’m definitely not wearing a baseball cap.

Look after the pennies and the pounds look after themselves

So, Wednesday evening has rolled around again, and although the excitement was slightly eclipsed by the return of Desperate Housewives to out tellies, we settled in and have been taking tips from the penny-pinchers at Channel 4’s Waste Not Want Not.

Watch the episode at Channel 4.com

So what did we learn?

Well, 40% of us are unable to make our salary last until the end of the month. Tell us something we don’t know.

What can we do about it?

The little penny pinching things

Are your laddering tights the financial leak in your life? Apparently by putting them in the freezer we can make them last twice as long.

If your pesky kids or annoying visitors are using your loo roll like it’s going out of fashion; before use, give the tube a good squash. This will ensure that the roll doesn’t spin on the dispenser when pulled, and will save both your purse and the environment.

When you freezer is not full of your tights (or candles from last weeks tips) it might be wasting power cooling down the empty space around your oven chips. Fill it up with newspaper to ensure that it is working as efficiently – and thus cheaply – as possible.

Some bigger and more dramatic measures

Turn off the lights, unplug the TV and never leave anything on standby, and you will see an immediate difference to your electricity bill. (And you can feel a bit smug that you are saving the planet.)

Turn your thermostat down 2 degrees and save over £1000 annually on your heating bill. (After you have bought a thick jumper this will leave you £985 in profit.)

Get Bank Aware. This is surely the biggest lesson that we can learn from this week’s Superscrimpers. Did you know that the majority of bank accounts are paying 0% interest on savings? Do you know what your interest rate is? Call your bank now and find out.

People are blindly loyal to their bank. The average relationship with a high-street bank is 16 years. This is 2 years longer than the average long-term relationship. Your bank is not loyal to you, and will not take into consideration your supportive and dedicated love when you go into your overdraft or miss a payment.

If you have savings and your bank is not paying you a penny of interest on them – LEAVE. Move to one of the accounts below which are offering the best interest rates at the moment. It is categorically worth the small amount of hassle.

Halifax Reward Current Account, £6.25 per month

Santander Preferred Current Account, 4.89% (on balances up to £2500 for 12 months)

Lloyds TSB Classic Plus Account 1.49% (on balances up to £2500)

If you cannot be bothered to move your savings to a bank that will have the common courtesy to pay you interest on them, then at least move them to a suitcase under your bed. You will be no worse off, and at least then the bank cannot loan your money out to: 1. finance the arms’ trade 2. fund corrupt governments 3. support similarly dodgy endeavours.

Right, I’m off to move banks. Natwest and I are about to go our separate ways. It left the toilet seat up one too many times and I've had enough.

The trouble with blogging

My blogging life started a little something like this:

I had an idea. That idea was to try and turn over a new leaf and become a saver. Read about this decision in my first ever post here.

I then had a second idea. Why not document my trials and tribulations in a blog? This would give me an outlet for my love of writing and provide a free hobby as per the saving strategy outlined. It would also make the mundane and painful task of saving into a project. I like a project.

The truth, readers, is that the blog project is going far better than the saving project, but if you’re a reader, you know that anyway.

They say that writing regularly is a path to self-discovery, a chance to work out what you want to do.

Now the irony of the blog going well is that I definitely haven’t worked out what I want to do, furthermore I’m pretty sure my life is rather boring. But I have been discovering. And what I have discovered is that blogging is not without its pitfalls. And currently mine are twofold.

1. The Loss of Secrets.

There is something nice about having a secret and keeping it just for you. It gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. Now, I’m not talking about the kind of secrets that ruin families, eat you up inside, or come out in the Queen Vic on Christmas day. No, just those pieces of information you like to occasionally hold onto for yourself.

Like, perhaps, finding your first grey hair. I blogged on this very matter (you can read it here) and ever since have felt people’s eyes searching through my thick dark hair for a rogue wiry grey ‘un. Well, you can all stop bloody looking, because I plucked it out.

The day after I had posted this, a friend sent me a link for hair dye. Oh, the hilarity.

When I find the hint of a moustache, you can bet your life that only me (and my beautician) will know about it.

2. The confusion of my identity

If one more person tells me that Money Saving Madam wouldn’t be very happy with i) my holiday planning ii) my popping out for a cappuccino iii) my weekend plan, I am going to pitch them clean through the window.

I AM her people. She is me. This isn’t an alter-ego; this is the story of my attempt to save. Read the strapline: One girl. Trying to be frugal. Mainly failing.

I do not leave work, go into the phone box at the end of the street, spin around, and become a caped-credit-score crusader. I wish I did, but the reality just isn’t that exciting.

I am trying people.

Clothing shopping habits have taken at least an 80% cut. I bring a neatly parcelled packed lunch into work daily and am limiting my amazon book habit to 2 books per month. I cleared my credit card details from all websites, giving myself an extra few moments to decide I don’t need/can’t afford said item. I even gave up meat for a month to see if the cost saving was worth it. (Conclusion: it wasn't.)

I am not a hypocrite, nor a super-hero.

But I have cleared my overdraft.

Consumerism: 0    Money Saving Madam: 1

I like my carrier bags organic.

I didn’t think I was a snob. Well, not really.


But despite supposedly being mid-saving, where did I find myself doing the weekly shop this Saturday? Bloody M&S, that’s where.


So what does my M&S habit reveal about me?

Apparently choice of supermarket has emerged as a clear indication of social standing. And if it doesn't quite capture exactly where you fit in, it does give a hint of what you aspire to be or would like others to think of you. Not that anyone would admit that they had chosen their supermarket for its class status, of course. Goodness no. We shop in more expensive supermarkets due to the superior quality of the food, the exotic vegetables, the prevalence of organic and the commitment to fair-trade. We don’t know why we need purple sprouting broccoli, but we’re sure we do.

I wonder if it’s even about the food? I mean, most items are branded and sell everywhere. Kellogg’s cornflakes are the same from Asda or Waitrose. Perhaps if we’re honest, it’s the ambience and the clean-looking shoppers.

Gosh - in certain middle-class circles mentioning you shop at the T-word is paramount to social suicide. I mean, you might as well confess that you’re holidaying all inclusive in the Costa Brava this summer.

But snobbery aside, of course we can all see what's wrong with supermarkets and colossal chain retailers in general.

There is, in the first place, the revolting wastefulness. Everything comes wrapped in layer after layer of needless plastic and card, served in landfill clogging disposable plastic bags.

Long before it reaches the supermarket, tons and tons of good, nourishing food is bulldozed into the ground because it doesn't meet the aesthetic standards of the supermarkets' buyers. ‘Those tomatoes aren't spherical - sorry, mate. Can't take them.’ And unless it sports a ‘fair-trade’ badge, you can bet your life that someone has been both underpaid and overworked on the other-side of the globe to bring it to our kitchens.

And yet, week in, week out, we go.


But when discussing the evils of supermarkets, we should surely admit what everyone in their secret heart knows: that shopping in big supermarkets is heaven on earth.


Go on, admit it. It’s amazing.


And rightly so, we’re all basically being brainwashed. The supermarkets (yes all of them – even the holy-grail, Waitrose) pay experts to make it a wonderful and wallet emptying experience; social psychologists, branding consultants, and other ‘mystery influencing’ jobs that I’ve never even heard of, all tricking me into parting with my hard earned cash.


They play "buy-me" music and pump the smell of freshly baked bread down the aisles. At every turn you are confronted by stacks of clean, pretty, gift-wrapped goods in hundreds of varieties.


I think I should probably start doing my big shop online. At least that way I will only buy what I need, and not inadvertently pick up a flat-screen monitor or a new work suit. You might laugh, but I have previously purchased both of these items (in the T-word) on a routine milk run. I blame the social psychologists.


I promise to stop shopping in M&S (once the fridge is emptied of course) and head instead to supermarkets that don’t stock pak choi or celeriac. I don’t even know how to cook either of them anyway.


I will buy no-brand white labeled foods, enjoy M&S as a special pay-day treat and end with a joke borrowed from Stephen Fry,


“What is Sainsbury's good for? Keeping the scum out of Waitrose" 

It rhymes with camping and it's overpriced

The year is rolling by, and whilst my friends plan to jet off around the globe this summer, it has dawned on me that I simply cannot afford a holiday.


Well, I could afford it, but I surely can’t justify it. Two weeks in the sun is going to have to fall by the wayside if money-saving-madam is going to stand any sort of chance.


Or is it?


Perhaps I could just about get away with a budget holiday.


A quick Google is enough to discover that The Telegraph and The Guardian’s idea of a ‘budget holiday’ is sadly no longer mine.


The Sun is offering ‘holidays for £9’ but my problem with this is twofold.


Firstly, partaking in this offer means purchasing the Sun 10 times. I don’t like the Sun. This is nothing to do with snobbery. It pretends to be the voice of working class people but instead has a tendency to focus on the worst aspects of humanity; and as such will not be receiving my hard-ish earned £3.


Secondly, and more embarrassingly, I have experience of these £9 holidays from the heady days of having no money. The resulting ‘Caravan of no comfort’ holiday was a challenge to say the least. No seating or bed area was quite large or soft enough to be comfortable, and the fibreglass roof provided a constant reminder that it was raining solidly for 5 days. In fact, so much did it rain, that when the day finally came to leave, we were flooded in.


Frankly, if it hadn’t been for the on-site ‘Cabaret’ club, featuring failed red-coats, bingo and adult humour for a family audience, I would have thought it was £9 poorly spent.


Even under the guise of research I’d rather not go through it again. Not even Louis Theroux would put up with that.


So if it seems a £9 holiday ain’t gonna cut it, how about a free one?


Remember Mr Smith, the British freelance writer, who came up with the idea to tweet his way around the globe for free?


He decided he wanted to try to get to Campbell Island, 200 miles off New Zealand's coast, within 30 days. He posted his aims on Twitter 28 days before he wanted to leave but, at first, there was little interest. That changed when Stephen Fry found out about him and mentioned Mr Smith to his many followers.


But that option is out of the question. It’s hardly novel anymore, and besides, I can’t tweet.


Back to the drawing board – 'what about camping?' I hear you cry.


Apparently growing numbers are rejecting traditional holidays to head out on their own for a spot of wild camping for a truly peaceful (and free) escape.


Personally I think they’re mad. I have an aversion to camping. It's a knee-jerk reaction at a genetic level. All I can imagine is a cataclysm of tent-based horrors, from falling into toilets to watching a caravan slowly slipping off the edge of a cliff. I think the whole thing is asking for trouble.


For me, camping is one the Seven Circles of hell, an experience so entrenched in misery that the thought of doing that as my holiday brings me out in a rash.


Turns out that I care about having a bed with a quality mattress, am rapidly turning into someone who gets irritable without eight uninterrupted hours of sleep, and am not terribly interested in shared bathrooms, crumbling bathrooms, leaking bathrooms, leaking bathrooms with low water pressure, tiny bathrooms, or cold-water-only-bathrooms.


Friends, now mostly professionals in their late 20s and 30s and used to a certain level of luxury, (or at least a minimum thread count) are concerned what my ‘Budget-Holiday’ might look like, and think that youth hostels, coach-travel, tents and cold water showers are a special form of torture.

But I think I’ve found the answer: luxury camping. This encompasses two words that are pleasing to me.  


Luxury; meaning  ‘something inessential but conducive to pleasure and comfort. Something expensive or hard to obtain. Sumptuous living.’


And camping; meaning ‘Rachel can afford this on her year of no spending.’


Apparently this high-end version of camping is called Glamping. This branding suggests it is both glamourous and frugal. Frugality, apparently, got fashionable. Ok, here we go. Cuckoo Down Farm Yurts, this looks nice. A three-acre wood, rabbits, deer and swallows. Peace, quiet, campfires. Oooh - own loo, double bed, and, there, the deal-maker, a powerpoint. Phone charging and ghd use a go-go. How do I book?


What? It costs how much? I could stay in a hotel cheaper.


Ah well, I should have known. After all, it was featured in The Telegraph.

Who on earth pays full price at Pizza Express?

Coupons are cool. Or at least that’s what I'm telling myself.

I had long embraced a ‘voucher’ even before the imposed ‘Saving Regime,’ but a pleasant side effect of the present economic climate is the increase of them. Thank you very much recession.

Do you remember going to Pizza Express without a voucher? No, me neither. But apparently it did happen in the dim and distant past. Probably just before the time people started incessantly saying that they ‘had an app for that.’

When Pizza Express approached a British marketing agency several years ago, they had just a few sacks of postbags with customer contact details on them.

By sending out some forward-able two-for-one vouchers that could be downloaded from the firm's website they attracted over 4.5 million diners (plus a database of 3m customers' details) keen to take them up on the offer.

With the economy slowing and unemployment soaring, it seems consumers are looking for ways to pinch pennies anywhere they can. Although this would suggest that they want to have their pizza and eat it.

Needless to say, other restaurant chains soon caught onto this idea. If any of this is news to you then sign up immediately at www.vouchercodes.co.uk for a weekly email of the best deals online and in stores. Click through, do it now. I don’t get any kick backs; although if vouchercodes would like to give me any, I accept cash or cheque.

When you book car hire, theatre tickets, flights, do your grocery shopping, or anything else online, you usually see a little box giving the option to input a loyalty, membership or special offer code. It's all too easy to ignore, but don't - typing the correct few letters can give a significant discount on the subsequent price. Thankfully, you don't need to actually be a loyal customer; you just need to google it. Open a new window right there and search for ‘discount code for ‘insert website here.’

There’s a widespread belief among the non-coupon set that ‘only poor people use coupons.’ Of course this is ridiculous, although some people are genuinely afraid of a stigma, as old fashioned paper coupons were once viewed as an embarrassing badge of stinginess.

Perhaps there is still a stigma surrounding these coupons saving you 20p off your milk or offering half price detergent; but new technologies like online voucher codes and club cards with automatic savings have pushed discounts into the mainstream.

Nowadays you just have to flash your phone screen to a staff member to get your money off. No ‘paper-coupon-possible-stigma’ in sight. Apparently, mobile coupons remove the stigma of discounting because your discount vouchers - delivered via sleek and expensive smartphones - are sexy and novel.

Frankly a discount is a discount, but if you would rather partake in ‘sexy and novel’ saving, then Vouchercloud is one such miracle saving app that will automatically find the best deals nearest to you and deliver a coupon straight to your ‘sleek’ (or otherwise) smartphone.

So be out and proud, become a coupon enthusiast. The real question is why you wouldn’t want to? Surely all it means is that you are a savvy shopper who knows the way to get the very best prices for the products you buy.

Sorry, backtrack - did I just say that there was an app for that?

Happy Hallmark Day

Call me a hopeless romantic, but I can’t help but love Valentine’s Day. Sitting in earshot of dozens of other couples in a crowded restaurant, trying hard to look the most loved up whilst enjoying a special Valentine’s menu. Who knew you could get a heart shaped steak? How about telling our loved ones how we feel by purchasing white teddies clutching flame-retardant hearts? Sending 12 of the 1 million roses that Interflora will be delivering on Monday? Or, if you believe a marketing email that I recently received, a sophisticated Valentine’s Day gift for your beloved would be, naturally, a roll of heart printed toilet paper.

Proof, once and for all, that romance is dead.

Ok, so you got me, I don’t love Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day is a huge commercial racket. And I don’t even like pink.

I do wonder what St. Valentine would say about heart-print pants and romantic toilet roll. Like many saints, actual details about Valentine's life are hard to come by. There are at least three saints with that name, but the famous one was a Christian priest who lived in Rome in the third century.

After Pope Gelasius set aside the day to honour St Valentine in 496, the saint gradually became adopted as the patron saint of lovers.

I should add that St Valentine was also subsequently held up as a patron for epilepsy and the plague. Neither of these has proved to be commercially viable.

If you are trying to offer love and passion on a zero-budget, then perhaps I can help. Poundland’s range of Valentine’s gifts should however be avoided. Invariably polyester, definitely the wrong side of tasteful, and almost certainly manufactured in questionable conditions.

The Daily Mirror has a tip for those who haven’t picked up a card yet. You won’t find a cheaper card on the market than Wilkinson’s 10p offering. To the point, the “You’re worth every penny” greeting is close to the Cash Queens’ hearts.

Just remember to take the price tag off, lest they discover they are in fact worth just ten said pennies.

If you don’t have the funds for a lavish gift and aren’t tempted by Poundland’s offerings, The Guardian suggests you write a love list.

Write down 10 things you love about your partner on a sheet of paper and stick it somewhere they will see it first thing in the morning, such as inside their wardrobe or on the bathroom mirror. If you are hard-pushed thinking of 10, go for five instead.

For me, this is concerning. If you’re hard pushed for 10 reasons, you’re probably going to be hard pushed full stop.

It's very possible that the only person who is truly happy on Valentine's Day is the chief executive of Hallmark. But we can perhaps all draw a little solace from remembering that there's always somebody worse off:  Saint Valentine ended his days by being pelted with rocks, clubbed and beheaded. Not a terribly good start for the patron Saint of love, although, unlike some romantic liaisons, at least that would have been over pretty swiftly.