Money Mindset: Big Buys and Slow Savings

Turns Out, Sleeping Well Is a Financial Goal

For a long time, I was sleeping on an IKEA daybed that could generously be described as “functional” — and less generously, as “a creaky bench with commitment issues.” It wasn’t awful, exactly. But it wasn’t exactly restful, either. Every morning I woke up slightly more crooked than the last, vaguely grumpy, and with the creeping sense that my spine had started negotiating new terms.

I had moved into this home with my family, and the flat was finally ours — a milestone that had taken every ounce of energy, paperwork, and (frankly) financial courage I had. In the chaos of that, furniture took a back seat. We prioritised the kitchen, of course. Shiny yellow kettle. Baby blue microwave. Full Wes Anderson energy.

But one morning, from my ground-floor mattress-adjacent situation, I looked up at the ceiling and thought: I want to wake up on the same floor as my family. And I want to do it on a real bed. A soft one. With storage. In green velvet, if the universe was feeling generous.

It turns out, the universe was. But first, I had to save.

Why This Matters

We don’t talk enough about how much mental energy goes into big purchases — especially when you’re trying to live intentionally. There’s this constant tug-of-war between “I deserve nice things” and “Oh god, am I about to financially ruin myself because a mattress is on sale?”

And then there’s the cultural noise. Urgency marketing. Klarna buttons. Next-day delivery and a million Instagram reels of someone unboxing a £4,000 coffee table that “sparks joy.” It’s loud out there. And somehow, everything feels both essential and impulsive all at once.

But here’s what I’ve learned: slowing down doesn’t mean denying yourself comfort. It means choosing it on your terms. Buying a bed isn’t just a purchase — it’s an act of care. It’s deciding that you, your back, and your Sunday morning cuddles are worth planning for.

Financial independence isn’t always about retiring early or spreadsheets with too many tabs. Sometimes it’s just about saving up for the exact bed you want — and knowing it’s already paid for when you lie down in it.

The Big, Green Velvet One

I saved £100 a month for four months. That was my “bed fund” — its own little pot, quietly building. While I saved, I researched. I wasn’t just hunting for the cheapest deal — I was looking for something that fit. Storage underneath (because I like to hide mess in style), good reviews for comfort, and a bit of flair. I landed on a green velvet ottoman bed that looked like it belonged in a film where someone wears pyjamas and never stresses about money. A fantasy. But one I could afford.

The mattress, too — plush but firm, grown-up but forgiving. The whole thing came in around £500. It wasn’t a small spend. But it wasn’t a financial cliff dive either. I’d planned for it. It was mine.

The day it arrived, my friend came over and we had what can only be described as an epic DIY day. There were power tools. There were snacks. There was mild swearing. And then — finally — there was a bed. A proper one. Mine.

That night, I slept like a person who had made a good decision. And in the mornings now, I hear the soft sounds of my little one crawling over and laughing, ready for a cuddle. It’s not dramatic, but it does feel quietly radical — to spend money in a way that genuinely makes your life better.

How to Buy Big Things Without Losing the Plot

Big purchases have a way of making us unravel. Either we impulse-buy to avoid the discomfort of waiting, or we delay forever because it feels safer to never decide.

Here’s what helped me stay grounded:

• Have a dedicated savings pot — not just “in your head” savings. Even if it’s slow, it builds momentum.
• Get weirdly specific about what you want. It helps filter out the noise and makes the research oddly satisfying.
• Let it take time. Four months wasn’t long in the grand scheme. And by the end, I knew what I wanted — and had the money ready.
• Buy the thing when it solves a real problem. Not when you’re bored, sad, or on your fifth coffee of the day.
• Let the joy land. Big purchases don’t need to be shadowed by guilt. Let yourself love it.

Gentle Questions for the Road

These days, if it’s comfy, green velvet, and makes mornings softer — I’m in.

• What would change if you bought for your future comfort, not just status or sales?
• What’s something big that’s worth saving slowly for?
• Where are you tolerating discomfort because buying feels “too hard”?