After my last trip to Vegas, someone I know called me a “bon vivant on a budget.”
The more I sat with it, the more it felt like the perfect description of how I move through the world.
Some people think being a bon vivant means private jets, five-course tasting menus, and casually dropping phrases like “our place in Provence.”
I think it means finding joy wherever you can—even if that joy is a Jack in the Box taco eaten in the parking lot at midnight.
Welcome to my life as a bon vivant on a budget.
Luxury Is a Vibe, Not a Price Tag
Somewhere along the way, capitalism tried to convince us that pleasure has to be expensive. That joy needs a receipt. That if you’re not spending money, you’re not really experiencing life.
But let me tell you:
I have felt just as glamorous with a cup of terrible hotel coffee in a hotel bathtub as I have at a rooftop bar with a dress code.
Luxury isn’t about cost—it’s about intention.
Light a candle. Put on the playlist. Sit somewhere that makes you feel like the main character in a coming-of-age indie film. Boom. Five-star experience.
The Art of Budget Glamour
Being a bon vivant on a budget isn’t about cutting corners—it’s about choosing joy on purpose.
My personal rules:
- Happy hour is holy hour.
If it’s half off and served between 4–6, I am spiritually aligned with it. - Free is a feature, not a flaw.
Museums, gallery openings, rooftop views, hotel lobbies with ✨ambiance✨—all elite if you walk in like you belong there. - Street food > white tablecloths.
Anthony Bourdain didn’t die for us to act like joy only exists on fine china. - Travel smart, not fancy.
I will absolutely fly Spirit if it gets me somewhere new and gives me a story to tell later.
I don’t need caviar.
I need vibes and a place to sit.
Romanticizing the Everyday
Being broke doesn’t mean being boring. It means being creative.
It means:
- Turning a gas station stop into a “late-night snack crawl.”
- Making hotel coffee feel like room service.
- Calling a park bench a “pop-up café.”
- Treating a sunset like you paid admission.
This is the Studio Ghibli approach to adulthood: everything is soft, everything is magical, everything is meaningful—even if you’re eating fries out of the bag.
Where This Comes From
I’m thankful that roller derby and my work give me the opportunity to travel as much as I do—not in a glamorous way, but in a real one. New cities, new conversations, new late-night meals that turn into stories I’ll tell forever.
I’d much rather come back home with a new tattoo than a suitcase full of cheap souvenirs.
A lot of my politics—and my travel philosophy—come from Anthony Bourdain.
He taught me that the world doesn’t need to be glamorous to be meaningful.
It just needs to be real.
And once you see the world that way, you stop chasing luxury and start chasing moments: good food, honest conversations, unexpected detours, and stories you carry longer than souvenirs.
A Bon Vivant’s Budget Manifesto
Here’s what I believe with my whole heart:
- You don’t need wealth to live richly.
- You don’t need luxury to feel special.
- You don’t need a big budget to build beautiful memories.
You just need curiosity, a little audacity, and the willingness to say,
“Actually? This is perfect.”
Because joy doesn’t care about your bank balance.
Joy cares that you showed up.
And if that makes me a bon vivant on a budget?
Then hand me my sparkling water in a go cup—I’m living my best life. ✨