Shoes A Go-Go

So my sweet roomate, H.I., and I, are preparing for the dreaded move. The annoyance of packing, moving, and unpacking, is almost motivation enough to buy a damn apartment. Assuming, of course, that I had more than $87 in my savings account. I've been wondering at what age a person should no longer be living paycheck to paycheck. I won't be too gauche in discussing money, or at least I'll try not to be. Suffice it to say, my job comes with an ulcer, rampant homophobia and misogeny, and a six figure income. I am aware of people my age, who are married, and raising children, and have a modest income. And own their own house. Not only do I rent, and live paycheck to paycheck, but I also have crummy credit. It is ironic that I help to manage billions of dollars for all manners of companies and governments, but I cannot seem to get a grasp on my own finances. When did I last balance my checkbook you ask? That would be April, 1994. When we were together, my ex M.B. offered to draw up a budget and map out where the money went. I should have taken him up on it. I would do it myself, but I am a bit afraid to find out. That said, I think it's time to bite the bullet and start hashing out my finances.

Some time ago, I remember reading an article in the New York Times magazine about this fellow (straight) who was addicted to online pornography. When he finally added everything up, he was spending more than $400 a month on online porn. Now, I have no such pornographic spending habits. Sure I buy the occassional magazine (Freshman, Play Dude, Naked Straight Skater Boy Quarterly) and DVD (Bel Ami, vintage Falcon, amateur crap), but it can't ammount to more that one purchase a month. If that. But I have the same sense of having let things get out of control.

There was a time in my life, say back when I was 22 and 23, that I spent a lot of money on designer labels. I have always enjoyed nice clothes, and my parents were generous with me when I was kid. However, when I finally graduated and landed a high paying job, my closet exploded. Yes, the truth is that I found myself buying expensive designer clothes because I wanted people to know that I had A) style and B) money. This was driven by insecurities on my part. I have struggled with my self-esteem most of my life. I am much better now, but there was a time when I felt uncomfortable in crowds, or large social situations. Having expensive clothes, the Rolex watch, Gucci belt, and other crap did make me feel better about myself. Along the same lines, I got a silver BMW 330Ci in December 2000. I leased the car because it was amazingly fun to drive, and because I felt like "I had arrived", I liked the attention I got in the car, etc.

I only realized how strong my "addiction" to status had become when I was forced to go without. When the start-up investment firm I worked for began to go under, I was forced to cut way-back on my spending. Not only that, I had to liquidate my Gucci belts, Prada bags and shirts, the Bang & Olufsen stereo, etc. This was accompanied by a deep sense of shame, and a feeling of failure. It was scary to see how much I identified having money and things with being a "successful person." The "withdrawal" from money was intensely painful and uncomfortable. When I moved to my current job, my finances improved, but I found that I had little interest in resuming my high-spending ways. Though my job is quite stable, and I was recently made Partner, I still have this sense that financial troubles will return. Maybe that is just part of growing up.