Blue-Collar Boujee— How to be Poorer, Betterer

Learn how to party like a Coinstar

I don’t know who this dude is — but I want him to be my new best friend (Image by wayhomestudio on Freepik)

Times are tough. You need to take out a mortgage to buy eggs — or at least have to put them on layaway. The price of everything has inflated higher than Willie Nelson at a Snoop Dogg concert. And since wages can never quite keep up, and people like me seem to always run out of money before we run out of month — many of us might be new to being poor. Well, not me, I’m old no money.

Allow me to welcome you poverty newbs to the broke-ass brigade.

We’re the old guard of pauperism.

Welcome to Blue-Collar Boujee. Being BCB is an often chaotic mix of being technically poor and somehow still working your arse off—possibly combined with shiny-object syndrome.

I didn’t spell bougie wrong by the way. When you’re po’ you spell it boujee.

Don’t worry about feeling alone in your newfound indigence, there’s a lot of us. In America alone there are 38 million poverty pauper princes and princesses. That’s 11.5% of the country. Although those numbers are from the 2022 census, with the foodflation and other poverty-increasing flations — I’ll bet it’s higher than Morgan Freeman (surprise — yes, he’s a pothead) now.

Technically I live above the poverty line, which if this were a more aristocratic class would make me upper lower class. But this is the brigade of broke bastards, and there is no class(es).

You know how there’s ‘old money’? Well, there’s also ‘old poor’. But don’t worry, we’re a helluvalot more accepting. We prefer to maintain a flat hierarchy that creates a unified union of underpaids.

While the lack of class structure might have you thinking you’ll fit right in, you’ll stick out as being ‘new poor’ at the Piggly Wiggly. Or you will without my help.

So allow me to be your blue-collar boujee oracle…

If you’re thinking ‘how did I get here?’…don’t ask questions, you’re here now. Also, if you aren’t broke because of a meth or coke habit, or devastating financial loss —then you’re like the rest of us. Nobody knows why we’re poor. But there are rumors that it’s the bourgeois avocado toast.

If you want nice shit, you’re going to need to get some cheap old shit and put in some elbow grease to make it nice. This often involves grabbing things from that Bermuda triangle between the sidewalk and the road of people’s houses. Yes, that’s where I got my end table. And coffee table. Ok fine, every table in my house.

Just search ‘how to make this old shit nice’ on YouTube, and a fellow poor will have made a video about it so that they could earn twelve dollars.

Your new store is the Dollar Store; everybody’s flossing at the Dolla’ Sto’. Shopping in fancy places, like indoor malls, isn’t your wheelhouse anymore. It won’t be the only thing to change either.

Now that you’re po’, you have to call the shipping container turned ‘eco-friendly tiny home’ you vacation in — a “trailer”.

Going out for lunch is going to change.

Costco is your new restaurant. When you’re beyond broke, you’ll be browsing the amuse-bouche of free samples. After all, the only difference between hors d’oeuvres at a cocktail party and free samples at Costco is that they aren’t delivered to you. You have to walk by the sample lady.

You’ll have to do it multiple times, pretending that you “didn’t really get a good enough taste to make a purchase decision”.

(Spoilers: she either doesn’t care because she’s being paid $7 an hour — or this will become an epic battle for canned cheese whizz on crackers.)

When you’re dining at home, by candlelight, because you had to choose between eating meat and paying your electric bill — snap some pics for Instagram. It’ll look like one of those fancy steakhouses where the lighting is so dim you can’t read the menu.

Nobody needs to know it’s because you didn’t pay the light bill, they’ll just think you’re ‘fanceh’.

Another thing that will change, is that you’ll have to give up any old rich hobbies, like croquet and dragon boating (or anything else to do with boating). You’ll have new ones though, like matchbook collecting, hamster racing, catfish noodling, and whittling.

Going to the gym with this dude would be so much fun (Image by wayhomestudio on Freepik)

You’ll have a new obsession with your thermostat. You’ll figure out which fraction of a degree you can turn it down to while not getting hypothermia in winter. Who needs expensive heat, putting on sweaters is free.

Due to consistently running out of month before running out of money, you’ll need to start dipping into your 401K. It’s fine though, because you’ll have an exciting new retirement plan — Powerball. Scratch-offs will fill in the financial gaps.

If you fly somewhere, probably with the Airmiles you accrued at the Piggly Wiggly — you’ll need to do in ‘poor-man’s business class’. That’s where you and your partner book the window seat and the aisle seat, then pray to Jebus that nobody books the one in the middle.

If no one rocks up to claim the middle seat, pull up those armrests and treat the seats like a sofa in the sky.

Dating is another thing that will be a different ballgame when you’re rocking your blue-collar bouj. Thankfully, a lot of broke people drive pickup trucks, so your dates are ultra-romantic star-gazing while lying in the back of their 1997 F150.

Hiking on dates is another go-to, broke people are surprisingly (and forcibly) outdoorsy.

There will be some entertainment concessions you need to make. If you’re broke broke, you can’t afford Netflix. But instead, you’ll get Notflix, with its uber-long ads and off-brand shows. Stranger Things? Get ready for Peculiar Occurrences. Umbrella Academy becomes Raincoat School.

The same goes for other purchases. You’ll love your new North Fake jacket and Fony Ploystation. If you want name-brand ‘fanceh’ clothes, go to second-hand shops.

You’ll need a second fridge in the garage. Don’t ask why, it’s just required. It doesn’t have to be fancy, you’ll likely find it on the side of the road or on Facebook Marketplace from some dude named Steve who needs ‘it gone today’.

And now, food.

Don’t worry, I’m guessing you’re not poor-poor. You’re not ketchup-sandwiches broke (that’s the gringo version of rice-n-beans poor). If you were, you likely wouldn’t be reading this since you’d be too busy driving Uber to make enough to pay your phone bill.

You might be hot-dog po’ though. So allow me to give you the holy grail of broke-bitch advice — we never skimp on store-brand ketchup. It’s Heinz (or French’s if you’re Canadian) all the way baby, or whatever other blue-collar boujee brand your tastebuds jive with.

That advice goes for all condiments. Liberate some packets from McDonald’s if you have to. And potato chips, the generic brands simply don’t taste the same, so look in the couch cushions (it might not be your own couch) for the extra dollar to buy branded chippies.

I don’t know what he’s on his way to do — but I’m in. (Image by wayhomestudio on Freepik)

There are a few things that we don’t skimp on. For example, we’ll eat Dollar Tree crackers but refuse to use bedding from Walmart. We don’t want our beds in a bag. Good sheets are a priority. Ditto for napkins, but you’ll learn which restaurants have the best napkins (spoilers: it’s Whole Foods and Chipotle).

You’ll figure out quickly which boxed wines are a‘ight.

Things like name-brand duct tape will be splurges too. No, the dollar-store duct tape is neither ducty nor tapey enough.

If you’re a dude, you’ll somehow make the math work that if you buy an $8 t-shirt you can get the $250 workboots. Or you’ll balance the books for that $10K trailer, by getting a $4K pickup truck.

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Phew, ok, I’ll stop dispensing the free advice (which is the only advice in your budget now) before you get boujeely overloaded. If you made it this far without being scared off — you’ll fit in nicely in the poverty pack, the boujee brigade. Not that you have a choice.

So, my fellow po’ peeps, or previously po’ peeps who somehow crawled out of the broke basement — share in the comments your best hard-up hack that got you through the hard times.

And if you’re wondering what my best hack is — just re-read the above. Some of it is autobiographical 😆.

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Po’ People—Stop Reading Here…

I’d absolutely love your support at any level that’s comfortable for you…

$1 per month (would picking the lowest option make you cheap? Nope, I’d love you)
$2 per month (equal love here)
$3 per month (ditto)
$4 per month (you rebel)
$5 per month (full price because I’d be dumb not to include it)

Don’t have any money? Don’t worry, me neither, and I still love you.