Two currencies, one week.

Welcome to Outgoings, a new weekly series where we speak to Yonder members about their weekly outgoings. Real people, real money, real spending habits.

This week: we chat to someone working in corporate strategy at a streaming company who's making between £80k-£90k per year, all whilst deciding whether or not spending an extra £2 for double halloumi is a financial step too far. Let's get into it.

Key facts

Diarist: 31-year-old, works in strategy at a media company

‍Location: London (Battersea) and Milan

Annual salary: £80k-£90k

‍Biggest spend: £845 (Kyrgyzstan trip)

‍Smallest spend: £1.50 (office yoghurt)

Yonder member since: 2025

I'm 31, work in strategy at a media company, and split my life between a flatshare in Battersea and my partner's flat in Milan. My take-home is somewhere in the £4–6k a month bracket. Rent's £1,200 for my half of the London flat.

I'd describe my relationship with money like this: decide what actually matters to me, spend freely on that, and be cheap about everything else. In practice, this week ended up straddling two countries and landing on my birthday, so it probably looks less like a normal week and more like a greatest-hits reel. My spending is basically a location tracker.

Take-home: £4–6k / month · Rent: £1,200 · Week total: £1,441 · Transactions: 21

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Day 01 · Monday · London — £87.10

07:00. I wake up on the sofa. I've politely given up my room to my sibling and their partner, who are visiting from Milan for a few days. Check my Garmin: "Poor sleep." Happy Monday.

09:15 · £1.50 — Plain yoghurt at the office cafe. I'm a big-breakfast person, but I'm already late for a meeting, so this will have to do.

12:24 · £3.90 — Halloumi wrap at the office canteen. I consider doubling the halloumi for an extra £2. I think about it harder than I think about my pension. In the end, I decide against.

I sit in the sun with a colleague, debating whether the world needed a fifth Toy Story, but we both agree we needed at least another Taylor song. I'm late back to work.

17:32 · £8.00 — TfL. A neat reminder of how expensive it has become to leave the house just to sit at a slightly nicer desk with aircon.

21:50 · £73.70 — Ocado shop. My flatmate notices the six-pack of oat milk (£1.50 a litre, a steal) sitting exactly where a six-pack of IPAs used to.

I suddenly realise I am getting old.

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Day 02 · Tuesday · London — £869.50

I'm up early again. Into the office for a western-themed party, and I immediately regret not buying that cowboy hat on my Easter trip to the US. I eat two hot dogs and a potato salad at the office event, which at least made the commute worth it.

16:50 · £24.50 — Running socks (Amazon). There's a corporate charity run on Wednesday evening and I've decided the only thing between me and glory is better socks. Next-day delivery, obviously.

19:38 · £845.00 — A friend texts to remind me to book the last spot on that guided tour of Kyrgyzstan in August we talked about two months ago. I was half sure he was joking at the time and had quietly forgotten about it, but I'm a man of my word. Ouch.

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Day 03 · Wednesday · London — £53.90

It's finally July, which means my birthday is only days away. I try to bank as much sleep as I can, because tonight I'm racing my colleagues in a 5K around Battersea Park.

08:00 · £19.90 — I make my usual flat white, with a half-successful attempt at latte art (which usually sets the tone for the day). I notice I'm nearly out of beans, so I order a refill of my favourites. Like most people in their 30s, I've decided I need to become a coffee connoisseur, so this feels money well spent.

12:00 · £19.00 — Stansted Express, single. I'm flying home to Italy for the weekend, and I immediately do the mental maths on whether the Stansted faff was worth it for the cheaper flight. This time, just about.

18:00. Race time. New socks on, and I jog over to Battersea Park as a warm-up, which is a generous word for it given the park is a five-minute walk from my flat.

20:00 · £15.00 — I beat my boss by 30 seconds, which feels like a monumental achievement. We regroup at a nearby pub to celebrate our thoroughly mediocre times (and England's win over Ghana) with a couple of pints. It's finally summer.

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Day 04 · Thursday · London → Milan — £21.49

I hit the gym first thing, on the logic that I'll spend the entire weekend in Italy eating. Then it's home to pack, squeezed in between meetings.

18:12 · £5.99 — I finally leave for the airport and grab a meal deal for the journey. My last few Stansted flights have all been badly delayed, so I hover over a £25 lounge pass. The board says on time. I decide to trust it against my better judgement.

22:47 · £2.50 — Landed in Milan. While I wait for my bag, a well-earned Diet Coke from the vending machine.

23:01 · £13.00 — I jump on the train to Milan Central and make it home before midnight. I unpack everything in 5 minutes, take a quick shower and then straight to bed.

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Day 05 · Friday · Milan — £228.66

I work from my partner's flat in Milan and try to wrap up as early as I can, mostly so we can get out into the sun for an aperitivo.

18:48 · £94.36 — The summer sales have just started in Italy, so we swing by one of my favourite menswear shops. I find the exact pair of loafers I've been circling for months, on sale, with tax-free on top. No-brainer.

19:30 · £54.90 — We start the evening with an aperitivo at a hidden garden bar: a Paloma, a Negroni (obviously), and a few nibbles.

21:30 · £75.50 — Then on to a bistro doing seasonal, mostly vegetarian Milanese dishes. We share a few plates and work through a couple of orange wines from their list.

23:37 · £3.90 — We finish the night with gelato. Peach and lemon sorbet for me. Comfortably the best value of the day.

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Day 06 · Saturday · Milan → Verona — £181.00

It's the day before my birthday, so we're up early and on a train from Milan to Verona to see my parents.

11:20 · £3.00 — We reach the station with just enough time for a quick coffee before boarding.

11:35 · £21.00 — On the train, and we pull into Verona just in time for lunch at my parents'.

It's really hot and I'm not particularly hungry, but you can't say no to my mum, so I very diligently clear my plate. Twice.

16:17 · £81.00 — We spend the rest of the afternoon shopping. I need proper hiking gear for the Kyrgyzstan trip, so: new trousers and a shirt.

18:54 · £76.00 — I've planned a barbecue for my birthday tomorrow, so I run to the local grocery store before it shuts. Food, drinks, and far too much of everything.

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Day 07 · Sunday · Verona — £0.00

I wake up 32, in my childhood bedroom in Verona. A slightly surreal place to get a year older, but I'm not complaining: no alarm, no meetings. The only thing on today's agenda is a barbecue with the friends I've had the longest.

Nothing today. Not a single tap, which almost never happens to me.

The barbecue is at a friend's place: he's running the grill like a military operation, everyone bringing something. My only job for today is to show up, which I'm reliably told is the one rule on your own birthday.

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What the week says

Three things stayed with us after reading it.

The £2 that mattered more than the £845. Our diarist agreed to £845 on a trip to Kyrgyzstan with almost less hesitation than they agreed to £24 on running socks. The halloumi upgrade, on the other hand, a £2 decision, got more airtime than the pension. This is the actual texture of how people who spend well spend. Not careful about everything or careless about everything. Careful about small things because they're small enough to think about. Casual about large things because a friend texted and it was easier to say yes.

The oat milk moment. Six-pack of oat milk where the IPAs used to be. It's a one-line joke but it's also the whole story of what it means to be 31 and settled and quietly aware of it. Nobody sets out to become the person who buys oat milk by the six-pack. And then you are.

The two-currency week. Our diarist noticed it themselves. London is where you spend on the machinery of being a person; transport, groceries, the meal deal at Stansted. Italy is where you spend on the point of being one; the aperitivo, the loafers, the gelato. Most of us have a version of this split, even if the second currency is a place two hours away, or a Friday night once a month. The question isn't whether the split exists. It's whether you're paying attention to it.

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The reflections

Most defended: "The £54.90 aperitivo. Yes it's a lot for a couple of drinks and some nibbles. But the garden is beautiful and the whole experience feels genuinely special."

Quietly taken back: "The £24.50 running socks. More a motivation booster than anything I actually needed."

Almost spent on, didn't: "The £25 lounge pass at Stansted, and the £2 halloumi upgrade on Monday. Held the line on both. I think about the halloumi more than I would like to admit."

Surprising: "How cleanly the week split into two currencies. London was almost all admin. Italy was almost all pleasure."

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Outgoings is a weekly diary series from Yonder. Every Thursday, one anonymous member takes us through a week of their spending life. To write one, submit an application here.