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The list of black holes your money is sucked into as a woman

It doesn’t matter how much money you make in this world, there are always going to be a few black holes at the bottom of your wallet.

Millionaire or struggling student, the purchases are always the same: infuriatingly fickle, and utterly useless. Case in point: I don’t know one woman who doesn’t buy at least four tubes of Lucas’s Paw Paw ointment every year. And for what? Lips that are as greasy as the bottom of a KFC family bucket?

So, without further ado, I present the complete list of money black holes that our money is sucked into as women, alternatively known as ‘Bernard Salt’s List Of Reasons Millennials Cannot Afford A House’.

Bobby pins. 

It’s not even like we buy them in small numbers. We buy hundreds of them in one go. They are everywhere – littered throughout your handbag, twisted up in bras after the wash, embedded into your carpet, rusting on your shower ledge. And yet, when you really need one? Nowhere to be seen.


I refuse to believe that just because a sockette is half the size of an average sock, they are easier to lose. And yet, I have but a handful of single sockettes, unmatched, that have been worn so often they have holes in them. And I buy them monthly. Where….where do they go?

Cotton On ‘Five-For-$20’ underwear. 

“Next time, I’ll get the nice knickers,” you say to yourself as you pick out five pairs of tacky synthetic undies of the Cotton five-for-$20 table. “Next time I’ll go to like, Victoria’s Secret or something. L’agent. Calvin Klein.” But you never do, and you live another year in pants that have less material than a hanky, and dissolve almost immediately in the wash.

Anything soy.

A latte at the coffee shop underneath my office costs $3.50. A soy latte at the coffee shop underneath my office costs $4.10. Oh, you’re lactose intolerant? SUCK SH*T, MATE, BECAUSE WE’RE GOING TO PROFIT OFF IT. One of these days, I am going to order a regular milk latte, and when my explosive diarrhea really gets going, I’ll make sure I head down to use their facilities.

Anything avocado.

There’s no health reason for eating seven avocados a week. None at all. Bernard Salt ruined it for everyone when he pointed out that the millennial affinity for $19 avo-on-toast could possibly be costing us house purchases. And I was all for howling him down, until I saw a single organic avo for sale for $6. Can’t stop/ won’t stop.

Rice crackers.

The cornerstone of most women’s diet is the rice cracker. Universally accepted as ‘the healthy chip’, to watch a woman sit with a full pack of Sakata’s and a tub of tzatziki is to watch an epic struggle between good and evil. Have another row, says a little voice, they’re only made of rice. Deep down we all know that they are completely rubbish dietary options, however a Friday arvo platter is simply not a Friday arvo platter without the humble rice cracker.

Bottled water.

Do you ever see those people gliding about life with one of those S’well stainless steel water bottles, just looking so damn together? So environmentally friendly? Yeah, I’m not one of them either. I am fairly sure that I am single handedly supporting Mount Franklin with the absurd amount of water I buy, at various moments throughout the day when I’m convinced I’m moments away from dehydration.

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[Side note: what did we do before bottled water became a thing? Are humans evolving to need more water? What’s going on here?]

Anything from Lululemon.

So, what’s your excuse? For most women, the understanding is this: if you look sh*t hot whilst exercising, you’ll feel better about yourself, and work harder. (Also, if you look sh*t hot whilst exercising, you might just pick up your hot trainer.) Lululemon has perfected the witchcraft of thigh-sucking-tummy-tucking leggings that somehow, somehow manage to make you look like  a fit person. Like a leg Spanx. They’re worth every zero on the end of that price tag, honey.

Shellac manicures and pedicures.

Actual words I actually spoke out of my actual mouth: “I haven’t painted my nails in years.” Seriously. Who am I? I am not pampered, or rich, or even someone who pays regular attention to personal hygiene. However, I do spent close on $90 a fortnight to ensure my toes and fingers are tipped with pristine coats of OPI Big Apple Red.

Uber fares.

Groan. I don’t know what’s worse, checking your sent messages, or checking your Uber account after a big night out. I would almost rather send another message to my high school ex asking if he was still married, than I would to face down another Saturday night full of Uber fares. THAT is where the majority of my money goes.

They say that making a list of expenditures is meant to prompt a type of reflection, some kind of realisation that you are being a dick with your money.

Strange, because making a list of money black holes actually hasn’t been a reality check at all. 

It’s just made me realise how damn expensive it is being a woman. 

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