Moleskine, the maker of fancy notebooks and other paper products, is going public and will be entering the Italian stock exchange. Quartz has a piece explaining everything you need to know about the company, which I found interesting because I am a buyer of Moleskine notebooks (usually the reporter’s notebook, which I buy about once a year for $12 or so). I guess this makes me a proud buyer of paper luxury goods! Maybe I should write a story about all the luxury paper goods I’ve bought in my lifetime for a certain magazine. Those notecards I mail out each time one of you pays off your debt? It’s from a luxury paper goods store.

YouTube makeup videos are one part Consumer Reports, one part social media, and one part performance art. Women as young as junior high post videos of themselves doing makeup “tutorials” giving step-by-step instructions on how to achieve a look, “hauling” items they bought on recent visits to the mall (a consumer capitalist show & tell), and reviewing beauty products.

I started watching the videos five years ago as a cure for insomnia. I soon had favorites whose videos I watched every week like I did TV shows. I grew to care about Xsparkage’s recommendations, even if I would never buy a $200 hair straighter or wear a Silk Spectre makeup look. I know SayAnythingBr00ke’s favorite lower lid liner (Stila Smudge Stick in Stingray, natch) and her favorite character in The Hunger Games, a book I’ve never read. I worry about Shaaanxo, a New Zealander my same age recovering from the discount boob job she got in Thailand.

I found the videos fascinating enough to devote some serious time to them—I’m now doing academic research about teen girls’ participation in the YouTube beauty community. I expected the project to dominate my time, but I didn’t predict how it would influence my spending. Financially, the situation is getting ugly.

At times, YouTube has provided honest reviews for products I responsibly weighed buying. It has also turned me on to indie makeup brands before they hit Sephora. Most of the time, though, I end up filling my drawers with junk I wouldn’t have bought were it not for a video: Lip colors I know will wash me out; mascaras from brands I don’t like; hair products not designed for my pixie cut.

By responsibly doing my work—right now, watching videos is my job—I wind up with “Oh crap, what did I buy?” regret after every trip to Rite Aid. When I buy high-end products at Sephora, the guilt multiplies.

After watching and dissecting hundreds of them, I figured, the videos would be powerless over me. Turns out I’m still a sucker. Product recommendations weasel into the dark corners of my brain. I am subliminally controlled by teenagers in Arkansas and Ontario.

A few purchases from the past two weeks:
Maybelline Color Whisper in “Oh La Lilac,” $8.43 These lipsticks are popular on YouTube right now, even though no one seems to like them very much. I think people just enjoy saying the name—”color whisper.” I bought the lilac one based off a review by a Canadian guru. I don’t like her taste in makeup, clothes, or hair, yet when I saw this product at Rite Aid I thought to myself, “Hmm, I remember someone telling me to buy this.” Way to go, lizard brain. The lipstick is not great—barely noticeable and short-lived on lips. Good for wearing to work, or at least I imagine it would be as someone who works from bed.

Coastal Scents Eclipse Concealer Palette, $14.95 Coastal Scents hopped on the “giving guru products for review” train early—like, five years ago—and at this point almost everyone owns it. It’s a given. I almost never get acne, but when I broke out late last month I caved and ordered the palette on Amazon. My face was back to normal by the time it arrived. I have not used it and probably never will.

Mario Badescu Drying Lotion, $17.00 From the same bout with acne. It fixed my face, which is good, but made the $15 concealer obsolete.

Revlon PhotoReady Concealer, $9.99 I bought this based on another recommendation by the Canadian when the Coastal Scents concealer was still in the mail. Save me from myself.

Bath & Body works Lilac Blossom candles, $77 This candle was in a California teen’s “February Favorites” video. At the end of each month, gurus create videos identifying their favorite beauty products from the past thirty days. These videos now stretch to include candles, songs, vacations, and other non-beauty recommendations. Instead of ordering this candle online, I decided the Very Best Idea would be to take the Metro North train from the city to a mall in Westchester. The train only costs $3 each way and it sounded like a nice day trip. At the mall, I learned that the more candles you bought, the better the deal. I ended up spending $77 on candles. Welcome to my shame spiral.

The total from the last two weeks: $127.37. Much more than I can afford, especially for products I hardly use. Items I wouldn’t have bought—or trekked to the suburbs to buy—were I not watching videos. Did Naomi Wolf get hooked on anti-aging goop when she wrote The Beauty Myth? Did Ralph Nader ever mindlessly buy a seatbelt?

Marisa Carroll lives in New York.

Lauren Rodrigue and I gchat sometimes during the day. We gchat a lot about having no money. We gchat about wanting things, but being unable to buy those things, because of no money.

I reread all of our chats from the past six months to see if I could find any growth. Are we getting smarter? Are we getting less whiny? Are we messing up less? I found that we have not yet progressed to talking about Excel spreadsheets and tax law (NEVER), but I think we’re moving in that general direction. Kind of.

‪Lauren:‬ Have you looked at Ruche.com

‪Logan:‬ I don’t do that. I don’t do online shopping.

‪Lauren:‬ Oh sorry. Oh my god. I am so sorry. For ever even suggesting.

‪Logan:‬: It just doesn’t work for my lifestyle. I am an emotional shopper. If I want to buy a new dress, I want it NOW, not in 5 to 7 business days.

Lauren: I don’t usually buy things online, I just look at shopping sites like how some people read magazines. Well I also read magazines. But I like to browse stores’ websites and think about the clothes and how I’d wear them. I usually get inspired to go change my outfit or to go find something new to buy anything anything anything I can possibly exchange money for. To me online shopping is like a thought exercise for actual shopping.

‪Logan:‬ I don’t do that. I just take myself out to dinner every time I feel sad.

‪Logan:‬ I keep thinking about this beaded halter top I saw in this vintage store. It was so pretty. I would never wear it. But it reminded me of my first prom dress. It was black and grey and beaded. I don’t think I have ever or will ever look as pretty. It would be nice to have this shirt to remember that.

‪Lauren: I’d support that. ‬Sounds Stevie Nicks-y.

‪Logan: Wrong answer. You’re supposed to say, let it go. ‬

‪Lauren:. Let it go.‬ I spent 60 bucks on dinner last night. Who am I? A Kardashian? Why do I let my friends with mad cash GLAMOUR me into doing shit like that? I would’ve never gone to that place, gotten 500 food items and ordered $15 drinks, if it were not for them.

‪Logan:‬ Well that is fun sometimes. It is fun to get drunk and pretend you have money.

‪Lauren:‬ I know I just feel guilty. Who spends 60 bucks on dinner and is my level of broke.

‪Logan:‬ I do that all the time. Not all the time. But sometimes. Often. It happens.

‪Lauren:‬ I feel bad. My parents never spend $60 on dinner. Ever.

‪Logan:‬ Guilt is the most useless emotion. Also your parents spend money on things you would never spend money on. You are not the same.

‪Lauren:‬ Like stainless steel appliances. Organic dog treats for Cleo. People can eat those, that’s how fancy they are.

‪Logan:‬ “Life insurance.” “Paper towels.”

‪Lauren:‬ I wanted to get life insurance, but then realized I had no idea how to do that or what to ask for.

‪Logan:‬ http://thebillfold.com/2012/03/how-to-get-life-insurance-if-you-need-it/

‪Lauren:‬ Oh duh. If I die my parents have to pay everything that I took out in loans. It seems wrong. To make them do that. When they obviously will be really suicidal that I’m dead. You know?

‪Logan:‬ Right.

‪Lauren:‬ Isn’t it weird how insurance companies ask if you smoke? Like who is gonna say yes? YES I SMOKE, CHARGE ME MORE PLZ.

Logan: I think they ask that so that when they find out you lied they don’t have to pay out. Pay up. Pay out. I think they want you to lie.

Logan: “THEY”

‪Logan:‬ I have 60 dollars. That has to last me a month.

‪Lauren:‬ I have about that. Maybe a little less but get paid tomorrow and Friday.
‪
Logan:‬ What is like to be rich, tell me.

‪Lauren:‬ We make similar money stop being CRAY

Logan: Do you roll around in piles of money? Do you use rolled up 20 dollar bills as tampons?

‪Lauren:‬ I AM NOT RICH. WE ARE SAME. I put my pants on one leg at a time just like you. Except my pants are made of rolled-up 20s like you said. And then I spend 60 dollars on FOOD. My tampons are made of gold.

Logan: Somehow (“somehow”) I overdrew my account but I had an internet emergency and so I’m in a Pret and I had to lie get the internet passcode (“cilantro”). I said I was waiting for my friend and then I would buy something. Lies. I am a liar.

Lauren: When do you get paid? Some people can’t eat cilantro bc their mouths think it tastes like soap.

Logan: Some day. Some time. Who knows. Our cheques get MAILED. Like in the olden days. And then I have to take it to a bank, like in the 1800′s.

Lauren: I just found out I am past due on a loan. That has never happened. I am FREAKING OUT. I’VE NEVER DONE THAT. WHY. Why did I do this How did I do this. I will never pay them off. I WILL NEVER PAY THEM OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.
‪
Logan:‬ That might be true. I don’t know if it is. But it might be.

‪Lauren:‬ I PAY EVERY MONTH AND THE $ GOES INTO ETHER IT GOES NOWHERE. I AM 60K IN DEBT AND I’M CHIPPING AWAY CHIPPING.

Logan: Some people say there is going to have to be massive debt forgiveness, in order for the world to work. So that might happen.

Lauren: I just think it’s funny, that as a taxpayer, it’s my responsibility to help the government get out of a debt that I really didn’t put them in since I didn’t ask to go hang out in Afghanistan for like 8 years BUT they are very mean to me about the debt I AM IN personally and they will not help ME pay it.

‪Lauren:‬ I got a $10 coupon for Steve Madden today. Should I spend it real quick? Or pretend it doesn’t exist?

‪Logan:‬ Not worth it. Ten dollars is nothing. Unless there is something you’re sweating there that you know you were going to buy anyway.

‪Lauren:‬ Well duh there is of course there is. Boots covered in studs! And ten dollars is more than ten percent off! It’s like someone coming up to you and saying here’s 1 ten dollar bill, go crazy on shoes today!

‪Logan:‬ Ten percent is nothing.

Lauren: ‪Bad news for me today, I’m glad you’re here.

Logan: Ohno.

‪Lauren:‬ Cushy freelance gig let me go due to budget cuts. 1/3 of my income just disappeared.

‪Logan:‬ I’m sorry that happened to you.

‪Lauren:‬ Yes v bad.

‪Logan:‬ But you are a hustler and you will find something else I know this.

Lauren: I’m just bummed as hell. It was nice to know I was getting that paycheck every Thursday no matter what. It’s like I’ve been on a vacation for the past year. A $ vacation. Blue skies, fake eyelashes whenever I want.

Logan: You can play austerity, like me.

Lauren: I want to be a rich person. I can’t even afford concealer. I have a zit and I can’t afford concealer.

Logan: This is a problem with a solution. Go to Sephora. Ask for a sample.

Logan: It’s actually the only time it’s safe to go in Sephora, when you have no money.

‪Lauren:‬ We’re too broke to get a drink right?

Logan: Yes.

Lauren: Okay forget I said anything

Logan: So I’ve discovered that one good effect of not having money is that I have no urge to buy anything because if I only have one purchase, I want to make that purchase COUNT.

Lauren: Yes. I am in a similar place now. I haven’t bought a new fashion in like over a month. Not a single new fashion. Actually that isn’t true. I bought 1 pair of jeans on Friday but that is a necessity.

Logan: Girl that sounds like an EXCUSE, and I know because I’ve made that excuse before .”Oh this face cream doesn’t count because it’s practically MEDICINE for my FACE.”

Lauren: I want things all the GODDAMN TIME. ALWAYS. I hate it. I wish I could take a pill to make me want things less.

‪Logan:: One way to do it, is to stop looking at things you want. Get off of fashion blogs. I found that I am sadder when I look at Pinterest, so now I don’t look at Pinterest. Too many things to covet.

‪Lauren:‬: Omg I know. I know for sure that is my #1 prob; all the emails I get about clothes, and all the tumblr stuff, and the blogs.

‪Logan:‬: Yeah you need to cut that out. It is torture. You are torturing yourself.

Lauren: I know. But it also makes me feel happy. Happy and anxious and then depressed. LIKE DRUGS.

Logan: Ok look if you were on heroin and had to stop doing heroin it wouldn’t really help you if you got emails everyday with pictures of huge piles of heroin.

Lauren: So my new budget allows me ~~40/day, give or take, so if I don’t spend at all on one or two or three days, i can spend 40 or 80 or 120 on clothes. Which is a lot! but that doesn’t factor in groceries, or the money I blow on junk like tweezers and cookies or strange bills that pop up out of nowhere or my mom’s birthday gift (April 28). So maybe I can’t buy clothes.

Logan: I feel like these numbers you have in your head are not true numbers.

Logan: Because I have successfully not spent money on anything except necessities in two weeks and am now an expert, I’m going to give you some advice. It is my opinion that you must get an idea of the money you have after paying all your bills and then take what you’re gonna let yourself spend, or what you have to spend, in cash. That has been a huge thing for me. It’s so much harder to spend cash. Unless you’re drunk. Then it’s easy, which is why I’m recommending part two of my plan: Don’t leave the house, and if you do, don’t drink.

Because: If you’re not drunk and you have cash, going to Forever 21 with $100 in cash is so easy and totally painless and actually even a little bit boring! Because you’re not going to buy anything probably! You will not want to turn over any of your cash to Foerver 21. I guarantee it.

‪Lauren‬: Totally youre so right. So true. I’m a monster. I am a spending monster.

Lauren: But I would buy something though at Forever21, with 100 bucks in my pocket. One thing at least. Probably a ~blouse~.

Logan: I told you not to look at blogs, and to test that theory that I already knew was true, I went on some blogs. And now I am feeling like I want a lot of things that I don’t have and that makes me feel sad. This blog makes me so sad to look at. Her life is so perfect, and she has wonderful things and clothes and a good apartment (or maybe it’s a HOUSE?!) and goes out to eat all the time and her life is so perfect and I just read this and turn GREEN with ENVY.

Lauren: Oh I’ve been off blogs all day and I feel great! I don’t want anything! Maybe some ramen. And this thing from Sephora that’s called “Lip Tar” or something? It’s like concrete for your lips. I also want that.

Logan: Okay I just closed out of all blogs. All Pinterest. All aspirational instagram feeds. I feel better already, really.

Logan: And don’t buy lip tar that sounds stupid. You have one thousand lip products already don’t need one more.

Lauren: But I don’t have lip tar? And that’s really different.

Lauren: Can I buy more shoes today or maybe a new clothing item?

Logan: No.

Lauren: WHY NOT

Lauren: Because you just bought new boots. You should still be high off new boots.

Lauren: ‪I want to keep buying things. Like every week 1 new thing.

Logan: You remind me of me when I was a younger person.

Logan: Like, four months ago.

As soon as they arrive, slaves bring a bench for the ladies to sit on, while Kerdon tries to interest them in his wares with a pushy sales pitch that mixes extravagant claims for the styles, workmanship and glorious colours of the shoes, with what sounds like a well practised hard-luck story lamenting his life of unremitting toil and all the mouths he has to feed. Eventually every variety of shoe in the shop is brought out – Sikyonians, slippers, boots, Argive sandals, scarlets, flats – before the ladies start haggling about prices and thinking about the footwear they are going to need for an upcoming festival.

Mary Beard reviewed Claire Holleran’s Shopping in Ancient Rome: The Retail Trade in the Late Republic and the Principate in The London Review of Books, and discussed what ancient commerce might have looked like. Ancient shopping looked a lot like it did today, except slaves don’t bring shoppers stools to sit on while salespeople convince people to buy things anymore (though, I’ve never shopped at Prada, so this might be something that still happens).

I.

I’m an AmeriCorps member, serving as a quasi-social worker helping low-income families with their financial difficulties. I’m explaining to my client in painfully incompetent Spanish that there’s nothing she can do legally, that the landlord’s letter she handed me says she needs to move herself and her family out of their apartment by tomorrow, that the county will probably offer her shelter since her kids have social security numbers, even though she doesn’t. She asks if ICE will get involved if she goes to the county. I say no, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

Tears well up in her eyes, but she doesn’t cry. This angers me. I want her to give into those feelings of despair and hopelessness. I want her to cry. I want her to yell at me and piss me off so that I don’t have to acknowledge the massive failings of the system that gives me so much privilege. I want her to do nothing but whine so that I can blame her for not trying hard enough.

She doesn’t cry. Instead, she thanks me and leaves. I will never see her again.

II.

The man hands me $600. He’d promised me more, but, despite my very honest craigslist ad, he’s a little taken aback by the severe angle of the broken wheel and the extent to which the rear axle is bent.

“You did this by backing into a pole?” he asks.

I had done it by backing into a pole, yes. I had caused $2,600 in damage in five seconds of reckless driving. I’d totaled the car—the car my parents gave me so that I could visit them with less hassle, so I could babysit my sister’s kids more often, so that I could get to job interviews or do any after-work internship, the car with the brand new ignition switch that my sister had paid for, the car with brand new tires for which I was still $500 in debt. I’d been too cool to check behind me as I peeled out of the parking space, hitting the pole with a nauseating crunch followed by the even more nauseating sound of grinding gears and creaking metal as I slowly drove home.

As the man drives off, I run my fingers over the grainy hundred dollar bills. Later, I will use the money to buy an iPad.

III.

I’m standing in front  of a class of low-income mothers. They are required to be there by the county in order to continue receiving their welfare benefits.

I’m trying to explain to them the benefits of having a credit card and using it wisely. I outline the steps for good credit card use: using only 30 percent of your credit limit, paying the balance every month to avoid interest, applying only for a credit card you know you can get. It’s simple, I say, and if you do it right, it will really help you in the long run.

A woman raises her hand. “Why would I want to buy something with money I don’t have?” she asks, slouching in her chair, crossing her arms.

I explain to her that using a credit card wisely can help establish good credit.

“What’s the point of good credit?”

I fall back on the end goal of these financial workshops, the outcome my supervisors are pushing so that our reports look good to our funders, a goal which I have yet to see any of my clients realize.

Well, I say, in case you want to buy a house someday.

The woman rolls her eyes.

IV.

I’m at happy hour with a couple of friends. We’re discussing what we’d do if we won the lottery. I confess that I’d keep enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life and give the rest to various non-profits. My friends scoff at my idealism and suggest instead that I invest most of it and then give the money I make from the market.

I tell them I wouldn’t ever want to do that. I tell them that banks are what’s wrong with the world, that playing the market is basically validating a system where a bunch of privileged white dudes make money out of nothing but their own privilege, that an “investment” economy means siphoning wealth from people who actually work for a living and redistributing it amongst the mega-rich. I tell them that I don’t understand why anyone would ever want to buy a stock, because what is a stock, even?

A friend calmly points out that a stock is ownership of part of company, but I’m feeling confrontational. I tell him that this “ownership” is imaginary, that it doesn’t mean I have any say in the governance of the company, that I’m basically just using money to buy more money. “What does a stock actually get me?” I ask.

He looks at me with trepidation and I know I’ve been too forceful. You get more money to give away, he says.

Our food arrives. I feel naive.

V.

It’s Thanksgiving, and Levi’s is having an online sale.

I haven’t purchased a pair of jeans in two years. The one pair I own have faded from an unwashed cobalt to a grainy cerulean. The shape of my cell phone can be seen in the wash even when the phone isn’t in my pocket.

I look at the pair of dark blue 508s with a mix of desire and fear. I imagine myself in them, revelling in the thought of pants that actually extend to my ankle. A pair of jeans I could actually wear to work! I think. But even at 40% off, they’re more than I’ve spent on any article of clothing since I started my AmeriCorps term.

I access my bank account. This is usually a bracing reality check, a reminder of my permanent brokeness. I sigh in exasperated expectation of the bad news.

My first direct deposit from my new job has gone through. I am unexpectedly rich.

The jeans arrive a week later. They fit perfectly.

Sam Blackwell sometimes writes about TV for The Blogulator. He lives in Minneapolis. Photo: Jason Edward Scott Bain

We’re taking Monday and Tuesday off for the Christmas holiday next week, and are kicking off our year-end series about things we learned about ourselves and money in 2012, mistakes we made, advice given and received, our favorite things we bought (or regretted), and more. These pieces will be running until the New Year. Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and supporting our site in our first year. We can’t tell you how much we appreciate it. — Mike & Logan.

Here’s Stefan.

If you buy good things and use them for a long time, it can help you save money for more nice things in the future.

It’s a lesson that one learns again and again in life, but this year I really noticed it with clothes. I got married, and so I went shopping for a suit, a pair of shoes, and a couple of other things. At some point during that process, I realized, terrifyingly, that none of my current dress clothes fit, and that I’d bought most of my clothes on sale, so many of them were a little weird or gimmicky, and not particularly flattering. So I started looking around and doing a little research.

Now when I say “buy good things,” please don’t think I mean “buy expensive things.” I still want, like most people, to get a good deal. For jeans, I’m still not convinced you can really find better value than a pair of Levi 501s for $40. But I was surprised to find that there are wonderful, high quality oxford cloth button down shirts made in Philadelphia, where I live. Regular price is $88, but they go on sale constantly, and I’ve paid $40-60 for mine. I can tell already that they’ll hold up for years and soften pleasantly with age. I was also surprised to learn that you can get beautiful, classically made men’s dress shoes for around $150. Nice stitching, leather soles and all. They’re from India and China, but the quality is pretty good. They cost more than the rubber-soled equivalents at the mall, but they’ll not only last a long time, they’ll actually get better with age.

I used to only shop for clothes in the clearance sections of stores. It’s still worth keeping an eye out for great deals, but a lot of the stuff that’s on sale is marked down for a reason: it’s trendy, ill-fitting or otherwise just not very good. Saving up for clothes that cost a little more, but will look and feel great for years—that’s something I learned this year.

Stefan Zajic lives in Philadelphia and thinks about science all day. Photo: Hello Turkey Toe

Jacob Newberry’s essay in Ploughshares about living in Jerusalem and his naive attempts to resolve relations between the Israelis and Palestinians by taking shopping trips in Ramallah is a very good read. Newberry is also good at recognizing the self-congratulatory motives behind his actions, like when he decides to buy a pair a shoes that say “Handmade in Palestine” on them:

You will imagine then how to naturally fit into a conversation, once you have moved back to America, that these shoes were handmade in Palestine. Saying it openly would backfire, would seem boastful and indulgent, would have very much the opposite of the desired effect. You will think of ways to let it occur naturally. People sometimes ask where a person has gotten his shoes from. Someone might find them beautiful and inquire. But often they do not. What might work better is to stop one night, while walking home from a bar with friends whose approval you seek, to retie the shoes, whether needed or not. This will subtly bring attention to them, and someone might then ask Where did you get your shoes? Then you will be able to reply, quite casually, Oh, I bought these in Ramallah and await the admiration that will come as a result. If you are feeling particularly chatty, you will be able to then talk about reverse exploitation and monetizing the conflict and Western liberal guilt and consumerism as a crass but effective weapon against economic and political stagnation, and you will then have the opportunity to feel erudite and meritorious. It will make a good impression. And the shoes are also beautiful. Everyone wins.

Well, not everyone wins.

Photo: Salam!

Adam Davidson reports that there’s something of a battle between the discount stores and the creative outposts on Manhattan’s 29th street. WHICH WILL WIN?!?! (The one with the most money, probably.)

POINT ONE: “Kemi Alao … owns Lasting Impressions, a boutique in Jos, Nigeria … [She]is a remarkably successful entrepreneur in a poor country. She sells all kinds of off-brand items from fragrances to clothes, but she doesn’t trust her local Nigerian wholesalers. ‘There are lots of fake things,’ she said of Nigeria’s knocked-off discount market. So every three months or so, she or her husband flies to the United States with a wad of cash and empty suitcases …  These entrepreneurs come because it’s one of the few places in the world focused on their needs. They want to buy mixed lots of decent-quality items at extremely low prices. They also want to pay cash.” 

POINT TWO: “On a recent visit [to The Ace Hotel] I noted that while a few had purchased coffee from the lobby waiters, most didn’t seem to be paying customers. When I pointed out these freeloaders to Alex Calderwood, the Ace Hotel’s co-founder and co-owner, he said that he rejected advice to charge customers for the Wi-Fi or kick them out after an hour. Calderwood thinks that having a lobby filled with energetic young people meeting, and bumping into one another, is good business. It allows him to charge higher rates for the rooms upstairs, and it’s also part of a broader business strategy.”

I just went through the items on Oprah’s new list of her favorite things. And I don’t want any of it. Who’s looking forward to the coming holiday season!? *Crying* [via]

I also need a new mattress. There are seasons of mattresses, I have come to realize, that correlate with one’s stages of maturity. When you are 17 and sneaking into abandoned hotels in the Catskills with your boyfriend, and the mattresses smell of mold and are so skinny they can be rolled up, you do not care one bit. You are enchanted to be on a surface that does not include rocks. When you are 24 and have your first newspaper job, you become more selective; a mattress on the floor is a sign of a very immature guy and you quickly move on. For the next few decades, there is a mattress and a human nonintervention pact: you live side by side, like the United States and Canada, without giving each other much thought. Mattresses have as much identity as gym socks.

Then you hit 60, and you wake up stiff and get out of bed in increments, as if you had extra joints, channeling your grandmother: “Oy. Oy vey. Vey iz mir.” You don’t need one of those “French Women Don’t Do Whatever It Is You Do, You Pathetic American Slob” books to know that this is not hot. Also, you cannot keep kidding yourself that your back aches because of the gym. Your back aches because you are in your 60s. It is serious mattress time.

Oh, Joyce Wadler, you’re so great. But, yes! Having a good mattress is very important. It was one of those things I had no problem dropping money on (as well as great sheets). If you’re going to bed in the same spot every single night, you might as well make it as comfortable as you can. Useful: This guide to mattress buying by Consumer Reports. The main takeaway from it is that you should never have to pay full-price for a mattress (“Our shopper spent $1,300 more for a Serta Perfect Sleeper set at one Sears store than for the same set at another Sears a week later.”)