Extreme Cheapskates

When it comes to money, there are those who save, those who are stingy, and then there are cheapskates. How far will you go to save some cash? What is the motivation for those cheapskates?

I must say I was a little curious about the programme when the trailer first appeared on TV so I sat down to watch the first episode. Before long, I was grimacing. It’s unbelievable the length some people are willing to go and the things they are willing to do or give up to deny themselves the little pleasures of life. And it’s not like these people are destitute or anything. Some are rich, some are even millionaires and yet they choose to insult themselves by depriving themselves. I find it really sad and appalling. Don’t they think they deserve better? Don’t they love themselves more to indulge a little? Or do they think so lowly of themselves that they don’t think there’s anything wrong with their self-neglect? If you treat yourself right, you will feel great. How can anyone feel great if one walks with holes in his socks even though he can afford a new pair? If you don’t think you deserve it better, if you think you’re not worth spending on, then you’re right. You’re not worth it. 

Mummy’s advice to me was not to be stingy with myself and not to insult myself by denying myself especially when I have worked hard for my money anyway. Because what’s the point of slaving oneself over work only to have the hard-earned money be enjoyed by others when you die? I will leave some assets and money behind for my dad, sister, my nephew and nieces and maybe half-brothers when I die but before I die, I too want to enjoy what I slog for. In Islam, we believe in this: Work for your worldly life as if you would live forever, and work for your Hereafter as if you would die tomorrow. To me, that applies to life too. Live your worldly life as if you would live forever, and yet live for your Hereafter as if you would die soon.

Look, I’m a bargain hunter and there’s nothing I love more than finding great deals but to me that’s getting the most value out of my spending. I studied accounting and I know the value of money and like most rationale consumers, I would not willingly pay more for something in store A if it’s offered at a lower cost in store B. That’s just trying to be a rationale and smart consumer, not a cheapskate. I also look at the quality and I don’t mind paying slightly more for quality than for a shoddy item which will more likely than not require replacement. In the long-run, it’s more economical to spend more on quality than to spend a little on something that doesn’t last.

~~~~~~~~

It’s 31 July today. A month since the transfer window officially opened and we have come no closer to signing anyone (except for Sanogo). I don’t know the reason behind this reluctance to spend, not when we no longer have the stadium to blame. Not when we have renewed deals with our sponsor. Not when we have a deal locked in place with PUMA for the next season’s kit. Not when Ivan himself had said that we have the dough and that we would spend it. So where is the action then? Where is the statement of intent or action of intent? Where is the ambition?

Look, I can dig and appreciate nurturing, developing and protecting talents. But there’s no denying we need reinforcements. We’re just an injury away from a defensive nightmare, we’re short in midfield and we need alternative strikers. I don’t think it’s too much for me to say that Arsenal are making a joke of themselves, being egoists and arrogant for thinking we can survive with as little reinforcement as possible, like this is a team made of Supermen, all players made of steel and all that. Because, hey, even Superman has his Achilles’ heel too, his weakness. There will come a time when players become too exhausted to play on, when it’s no longer wise to continually play them (ever heard of fatigue and burnout, Arsenal?), when some get injured and some suffer wear and tear of their tendons and muscles. You can’t play the same players week in, week out in four different cup competitions. It’s just not sustainable. You need many players who can play and challenge for as many cups as possible. The fans want new blood, the players themselves want new reinforcements and yet the person who holds the decisions and the purse-strings seem strangely reluctant to share this view. Stop being so stubborn and myopic already.

Twenty thousand leagues under the sea, hundreds of football leagues from Asia to Europe to North and South America, even Australia, the upper divisions, the lower divisions and whatnot and yet we can’t find anyone good enough that we can potentially sign. And this is the club which signed jokers, egoists and arrogant buggers (think Eboue, petit pute, Ade, NB52...) but can’t seem to find anyone now. So we want to spend only on quality? Good on you. But there’s no one good enough left to sign? Fie on you. Even Citeh who just have a new Manager have signed players.

Surely they understand the importance of investment at Arsenal? After all, the same people built the new stadium. They believed in investing for the future. So why this great reluctance to spend, this lack of urgency in conducting and concluding our business, this dragging of feet? Or are we the running contenders for the most Extreme Cheapskates ever?

The deeper the foundations, the stronger the fortress. Well, it’s high time to add on and reinforce the foundation, Arsenal. It’s only 16 more days left until the new season kicks off.

#ArsenalTour2013 – Saitama, Japan

The tour’s last destination was Saitama. It was like we saved the best opponents for last; Urawa Red Diamonds were a harder opponent to crack. For once, Giroud was not able to find the net. Poldi scored (otherwise, it had been a rather dismal performance from him) and Akpom sealed the victory eight minutes from time. Otherwise, we’d have drawn just like the other English team to be playing in Japan then (ManUre drew 2-2 with Cerezo Osaka on the same day).

#ArsenalTour2013 – Nagoya, Japan

From Hanoi, the tour continued on to Nagoya, Arsène’s old club. No Runnung Man this time but we had two men in an icy tub. It was a tougher opposition too but we still managed to keep our cool and win 1-3. My baby scored again then he won a penalty which Ryo converted thanks to Arteta’s thoughtfulness. Theo added to the score before the host pulled one back. The team left the following day for Saitama by bullet train.

#ArsenalTour2013 – Hanoi, Vietnam

There was Vu Xuan Tien aka The Running Man who ran after the bus for miles before he was eventually invited to board the bus and meet the team (*envious!!!) – and led the team out before the match. There was the heat and humidity to contend with. And then there was the hat trick hero. My hat trick hero ;’)

#ArsenalTour2013 – Jakarta Edition

My mates and I were so excited the minute we learnt Arsenal were coming to Asia again. I was in Egypt when the details were announced and when I was in Jakarta during Chinese New Year, I booked and paid the deposit for two rooms at the guesthouse for the weekend Arsenal were due to visit. Flight tickets were scoured (MAS, Garuda Indonesia, Lion Air, KLM, AirAsia) and subsequently bought the day I returned to work from Egypt (hey, I’m a kiasu after all) and after the ticket details were announced in early April, Aud then bought the tickets online with the help of Budi, a mutual Twitter acquaintance who’s a Jakarta local. Then it was a matter of just counting down the days to our trip.

Friday, 12 July 2013

And finally the day we’d been waiting for arrived!!! (Aud had flown out the day before and she would pick up the tickets today). Left office at 1240 and took the train to KLIA, stopping en route at Putrajaya to meet up my mate for our long overdue chat. She had to return to office and I had a plane to catch so we bade goodbye to each other just before 1430. The train was a little late in arriving and I only arrived at KLIA at 1515. Met up with Zack at row B and we joined the long queue for baggage drop. It was a good thing we had checked in online and changed seats from that allocated to us. I was assigned seat 26A and changed it to 6B. I mean, if there were empty seats in front of the cabin, why should I sit at the rear when sitting up in front would mean I got off the plane and clear immigration earlier?

The trip was uneventful. I tried to nap then read my novel. We landed at 1735 local time and cleared immigration within 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the people manning the bags had other ideas. Before long, large crowds had formed around three of the belts there. We ended up waiting 45 blinking minutes for our bags. I broke fast on the cake, some chocolates and small container of water given in the flight.

Of course there was a long queue for the cab outside. I wasn’t prepared to wait and was contemplating our options when two men approached us and offered transportation to central Jakarta for Rp300K. Outrageous, I said. I bargained it down to Rp200K. Finally, they relented and we followed them to the vehicle. We still had to pay for the airport parking though of Rp20K. Ridiculous.

We arrived at the guesthouse at 1915 and checked in. After freshening up, Aud, Zack and I went out to Grand Indonesia for dinner. We returned after 10 that night.

Saturday, 13 July 2013

I had set my alarm for 0330 local time and before long, there was a knock on the door. One of the girls who works at the guesthouse was at the door, with a tray of a plate of white rice, a pale fried egg and a couple of pieces of tempeh, and a cup of black fragrant tea. The rice was dry, i.e. without a drop of gravy. Now, normally I can’t and am not able to swallow white rice on its own without any gravy but hey when in Rome and all that so I forced myself to eat some of it. I stayed clear away from the egg though. It was raining steadily outside, perfect for slumber and that was what I did after morning prayers, getting up twice to use the bathroom. Oh excuse me, too much info.

I woke up again at 9 and showered. I then joined Aud and Zack outside and then went up to the rooftop to take pictures. We finally left the guesthouse at almost 10 and took a cab to Sarinah Department Store. We spent some time there buying Indonesian souvenirs.

It rained while we were safely and happily engrossed and occupied in Sarinah for the ground was wet when we finally emerged from Sarinah and headed for Grand Hyatt Jakarta where the fans’ party was due to be. We didn’t have any invitation but we reckoned it wouldn’t hurt to check out the action. Maybe if we were lucky, we’d catch a glimpse of someone. It started to rain as we neared the Hotel Indonesia Roundabout (or Bundaran H.I. in the local lingo – we all know how fond the Indonesians are of joining names) and we quickly walked into Plaza Indonesia to seek shelter. From Plaza Indonesia, we found our way to Grand Hyatt and joined the many Gooners already there. We waited and waited and waited patiently, checking out some of the quirky t-shirts sported by the locals. It had started raining very heavily when we arrived and it continued steadily on.

In the end, we waited 50 minutes before finally leaving in disappointment. The players had arrived without us realising it (they bypassed the lobby entrance) and the by-invitation-only party was held behind closed doors (I managed to peek in but couldn’t see anyone because there were just too many people queuing up).

We headed back to Plaza Indonesia and while Aud was having her lunch, I managed a quick browse at the shops. We then returned to the guesthouse and I had a siesta after prayers. Aud wanted to check out the fair at the stadium so she left for the stadium first. I was indifferent. I didn’t even buy anything the two times Arsenal came to KL.

Zack and I left at 5 pm and hailed a cab to Plaza Senayan. It was overcast and dark when we left and it started to rain just as we reached the shopping mall. We went to the food court at the third floor and after ascertaining it was impossible to find any seats, we decided to go find a supermarket. So we sought directions and went to the Food Hall at Sogo basement. We were trying to find the escalator up when we stumbled upon a smaller food court and it was only a quarter full. So we bought our meal and sat down to break our fast.

I went to perform prayers after breaking fast (my, the prayer room was full, full, full and there was a long queue to the ablutions area; good thing I had performed ablutions back at the guesthouse) and rejoined Zack at the lobby. It was still pouring steadily and although I had borrowed and brought along a long brolly from the guesthouse, I wasn’t keen to walk in the downpour. Zack then showed me one chap who was also heading to the stadium with his brother. I asked him to ask the chap if we could get a ride. He told us no at first, saying the vehicle was already full then changed his mind and said OK – if we didn’t mind squeezing in. Well, I didn’t mind it as long as I stayed dry.

We waited for the driver to come and met up the rest of the family. I understood then why he was reluctant to offer us a ride in the first place: there was his mum (who told me she was from central Java and was there to visit her sister), his brother (who was also going to the stadium), his sister, his aunt (who stays in Jakarta), his cousin and himself of course. Then there was the driver and the two of us. The eight of us climbed into the MPV and after some arranging, we set off for the stadium.

There was some confusion when we got to the stadium with no one seeming to know what was going on, which gate was opened for us to enter the stadium and which way to head. Finally, we were told to go to the west gate (or was it the east?) so we continued on. The chap and his brother took the opposite direction as their tickets were for a different price category.

We finally arrived at the opened gate and entered. I went to use the bathroom first (only two cubicles!) and then Zack did likewise. Then we headed up the stairs to enter the seating area. We were confused at first because the crowd ahead of us was blocking the way. We had to go down the stairs, walked across the seats and up the stairs to get seats at what we considered a vintage viewing point.

The Gunners came onto the pitch just before 8:30 pm and stayed on for 90 minutes. We left only when we were sure there were no other Gunners left on the pitch. The Indonesian team had by then came onto the pitch for their training too.

We had quite a wait for a cab back to the guesthouse.

Sunday, 14 July 2013

We stayed in the whole morning. The day cleared up somewhat by noon. Aud and I decided to take a walk to the nearby Cikini market and also Carrefour at a nearby building. Zack didn’t mind joining so the three of us went out at 2:30 pm. It was at Carrefour when Zack asked what our next plans were. He wanted to return to the guesthouse as he had just realised his wallet was missing.

When we came back, we saw him with the guesthouse staff, Tirta, in the office. Tirta was on the phone and it turned out he was calling up the taxi company. Zack suspected he either dropped his wallet in the cab or on the pavement as he exited the cab last night. The thing is, I was behind him (I exited from the same door because it was still raining when we got back to the guesthouse from the stadium and he had the umbrella). Surely I would have noticed it if he dropped the wallet – unless he dropped it on the cab floor and I missed stepping on it. Or he dropped it on the pavement and I didn’t notice it either. So we searched for the Maybank and CIMB numbers for him to cancel his ATM cards. Maybank was more efficient at picking up the call and dealing with the situation. I had to call CIMB twice before Zack could get through. See, there are benefits to still being a prepaid user. I then took a short nap as I was already feeling sleepy at Carrefour.

Woke up at 4:15 pm and got ready. I decided to leave my purse behind and brought only Rp200K along. We left at 4:30 and got a cab almost immediately. It was only a 20-minute ride to the stadium and we walked to our gate, taking in the merchandise on sale (none looked genuine, no surprise there). We joined the queue at Gate 1 and proceeded to wait and wait. We even broke fast while queuing. Finally, the line moved but wait, there was a system glitch and they couldn’t scan our tickets so we had to wait some more. After some time, we were finally let in – the old-fashioned way of tearing up along the perforations by the side of the ticket. We quickly went in and went up the stairs.

We chose our seats, choosing to sit by the aisle as moving further in would mean our views would be slightly blocked by the players’ benches. Well, what did we know. So many people were walking up and down and then so many people decided to stand at the aisle that our view was slightly blocked anyway. I went in search of the bathroom and prayer room right after having decided on our seats. And guess what, the bathroom was mixed (for both sexes!!!) and there was no prayer room. None. Nada. Instead, there was some pieces of carpets (you know, the thin ones you usually find in offices) on which you can perform prayers right outside the washroom. And this is Indonesia we’re talking about, the country with the largest Muslim population in the world. How sad and pathetic is that. By the way, Aud related to us that on Saturday evening when she came ahead before us, the stadium was not lighted until way overdue -  ‘To save costs’ according to a local. Now, had that happened at Bukit Jalil... 

We still had a good time despite all these idiots standing and crowding the aisle testing our patience. As we all know, Theo scored in the first half with nothing much happening after that. A series of changes were made in the second half and Akpom then opened the floodgates. Giroud scored the third and fourth goals (both goals were beautiful), Poldi hammered in the fifth, Olsson slid in for Arsenal’s sixth and Eisfeld completed the seventh goal to give the Indonesia Dream Team a real beating and a nightmare. I was screaming when all the goals were scored.

We finally left after 11 pm and waited a long while for a cab back. The cabs all quoted a flat rate to us and finally, we got one for Rp40K. It had been a long day and night and yet I still had a bowl of instant noodles before going to bed.

Monday, 15 July 2013

Well, it’s time to say goodbye to Jakarta. This morning, I didn’t get any pale fried egg (I think the staff had noticed I left my egg untouched the previous two mornings) but extra helping of tempeh. We still had white rice sans gravy. I showered after the meal and after morning prayers, took a quick nap (didn’t work). Got up at 6:30 am and got dressed.

We left at 7 and the cab Tirta had already called for us was already waiting. There was a brief period of heavy traffic but it was a smooth ride all the way to the airport and we reached the airport after only 40 minutes. I paid Rp122.5K for the ride (after taking into account the toll charges. The cab on my last trip made me pay for the tolls and I was not happy then). We went in, screened our bags and dropped off our bags at the desk. The departure tax is Rp150K per person.

The flight from Kuala Lumpur was late in arriving (there was delay at take-off due to heavy air traffic) and I was starting to panic as I was heading to the office and had a meeting at 2:30 pm. It finally landed at 9:35 and we only took off after 10 am. There was this Iranian guy sitting between us who had a connecting flight at 1:30 pm – I hope he made it. We landed at 1:15 pm and I exited the baggage claim area with four minutes to make it to the KLIA Express platform. I finally reached office at 1425. Phew! Oh, and the meeting was rescheduled...

I wonder if Arsenal would come to this region again next summer and if so, which country. Hey, Asia is after all the new cash cow after the failing economies of some European countries so it is a lucrative destination alright.

Confessions Of A Bagaholic

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to brag but just to share my obsession/passion/interest in fashion particularly bags (I believe bags make a fashion statement too). And yes, I’m a huge fan and enthusiast of designer bags and accessories

I have always liked the finer material things in life (yes, I’m a Material Girl. You can blame capitalism for that), something which Mummy encouraged (her advice always ran on the lines of: ‘Don’t be stingy with yourself. If you earn good money, spend on yourself and buy good quality things’) and which prompted Akak to say ‘She always wants branded stuff.’

Well, as Shakespeare put it: Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.

When I started work, I first used a Next bag I purchased in England solely for work purposes. Akak also gave me a bag she brought over from Japan and I used that bag too (until one day I found some bastard had sliced through the bag. He didn’t get anything though) before changing bags. I had since used high street brand bags (Morgan, Guess, Pepe Jeans) and even unbranded bags to work. My principle is unbranded is better than a counterfeit bag anytime any day. And if I couldn’t afford it yet, I would save up until I could afford it and not buy a fake counterfeit version of it.

My first branded designer bag is from Christian Dior. I spent some time agonising if I should purchase it before finally taking the plunge. It is a small to medium size leather bag with adjustable ‘button’ strap and it looks like the bag below, in the exact same colour. It has a magnetic flap to open and close the bag. I still have and use it to this day and the CD logo still shines. Truly vintage.

I then went heavily into Gucci and to date I have at least a dozen Gucci bags ranging from the usual hobo bags to Boston bags in various finish, sizes and colours, from backpack, sling bag/cross body (like the Louis Vuitton Bloomsbury but with flower print), small totes and shopping totes.

My Gucci flower crossbody looks similar to this (the prints show differently on each piece). I have to be very careful with the vachetta leather bit though

I also ventured into other brands like Valentino, Bally, Celine, Ferragamo, Fendi and Mulberry (one bag each of various sizes and designs), Tod’s (two bags) and Prada (four). I think that’s enough for those brands for now. I also have a few pouches and small leather goods from Bally, Ferragamo, Gucci, Prada and Tod’s. I just love pouches!

As for Louis Vuitton, I only like certain materials and designs of the brand. I don’t like the monogram canvas because I feel it’s too common and too easily faked and this has put me off LV for a very long time. I’ve only started buying LV last year and only have a few pieces (Vernis Pochette, Neverfull MM, Speedy Bandoulière 30 and Bloomsbury PM). I don’t really plan to venture beyond but hey, never say never.

And here’s another confession: I’m slowly weaning myself off Gucci. I have enough Gucci bags for now to last me a lifetime, syukur Alhamdulillah. It’s not that I suddenly hate the brand, no, in fact I will still invest in their accessories and small leather items. But I’m now focussing on investing in Chanel.

For my travels, I prefer using LeSportsac bags and Longchamp Le Pliage or the more casual Gucci sling/cross body or backpack or the Prada sling/cross body - depending on the destination and duration of travel (for my Europe trips, I also use my durable Samsonite backpack). 

My Samsonite Swoop looks exactly like this

And hey, a girl can never have too many bags (or shoes and accessories for that matter!). Besides, I can leave them behind for my sister and my two nieces. One thing though: I dislike Coach for the same reason I dislike LV monogram canvas. And they are all Made in China. Coach bags cost a lot less than other brands but why pay that amount for something Made in China? Might as well buy from Furla or Ferragamo which offer similarly affordable bags and yet all Made in Italy.