Things I Stopped Buying to Save $5,000 a Year

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I used to think saving money meant giving up everything fun. Like, sure, I could cut back… but at what cost? My sanity? My skincare routine? My iced oat milk lattes?

Turns out, you don’t have to go full minimalist or live off beans and rice to save a serious chunk of change. I made a few small-ish changes, cut out the stuff I didn’t actually need (or even like that much), and somehow ended up saving over $5,000 in a year.

In this post, I’m breaking down exactly what I stopped buying, how much it saved me, and what I do instead, because spoiler: I’m still living my best cozy little life… just with more money in my savings account.

Daily Coffee Runs: $700/year

I love a good coffee shop moment. The vibe, the oat milk foam art, the illusion that buying a $6 latte somehow makes me productive. But five days a week? That adds up fast.

So I broke up with my barista (sorry, Josh) and started making my own at home. I invested in a French press, found my go-to beans, and now I romanticize my morning coffee with a thrifted mug and zero upcharges. Bonus: I can make it in pajamas.

What I use now:

• A good grinder + French press (linked my faves)
• A homemade vanilla syrup situation that’s weirdly better than Starbucks

Impulse Buys at Target: $600/year

You know that thing where you walk into Target for one thing and somehow leave with $120 worth of candles, a new throw pillow, and a planner you’ll “definitely use this time”? Yeah. That was me.

Now I pause. If it’s not on my list or I didn’t plan for it, I don’t buy it.

What I do instead:

• Keep a “want later” list in my notes app
• Give it 24 hours (or a full pay cycle)
• Ask myself: “Would I still want this if it wasn’t on sale?”

Still working on my Target resistance, but progress is progress.

Takeout and Convenience Meals: $1,200/year

I love cooking… in theory. But after a long day, the Uber Eats app just knew how to look tempting. I’d convince myself I was too tired to cook, too hungry to think, and obviously needed sushi. Again.

The problem? Those $25 “just this once” nights turned into a weekly thing. Sometimes twice a week.

Now I keep a few easy, actually-good meals on rotation. Think: frozen dumplings, Trader Joe’s stir-fry kits, sheet pan everything. Still cozy, still satisfying, just way cheaper (and usually faster than delivery).

What helps:

• Sunday fridge prep (nothing fancy, just wash and chop stuff)
• A few go-to lazy meals I can make on autopilot
• Having something frozen I actually want to eat

Not saying I never order out… just saying I don’t default to it anymore.

Subscriptions I Forgot I Had: $300/year

I went through my bank statement one day and realized I’d been paying for a streaming service I hadn’t opened in months. (Looking at you, Paramount+.) And it wasn’t just that one. I had random app subscriptions, a meditation app I used twice, and a membership to something I couldn’t even remember signing up for.

It was giving leaky budget energy.

So I did a full digital cleanout. Canceled anything I wasn’t actively using, and started rotating free trials when I really wanted to watch something. Spoiler: you don’t need five streaming services. Just one or two—and maybe a friend who’s cool with sharing.

What I do now:

• Audit subscriptions every 2–3 months
• Set reminders before free trials end (bless calendar alerts)
• Stick to 1–2 max at a time so I actually use them

I still watch stuff, I still chill. I just don’t let subscriptions sneak $10 here and $12 there out of my wallet anymore.

The Gym Membership I Pretended to Used: $500/year

At one point, I was paying $42 a month to “have access” to a gym I literally drove past on my way home… while not stopping. It wasn’t the gym’s fault, it was actually really nice. I just didn’t go. Like, ever.

Eventually I admitted what I already knew: I’m not a gym girly. I’m a “walk around the neighborhood with a podcast” girly. I’d rather stretch in my living room and follow a YouTube Pilates video in mismatched socks than drive to a fluorescent-lit box full of people who take leg day way too seriously.

What I do instead:

• Long walks (free)
• Free YouTube workouts (shoutout to MadFit and Move With Nicole)
• Light hand weights and a yoga mat I already owned

Plus I never have to worry about forgetting headphones or wiping down someone else’s sweat.

Monthly Beauty Boxes + Random Subscriptions: $250/year

You know those little boxes that show up looking all cute and curated, like a present from your more glamorous alter ego? Yeah, I fell for those. Hard. Every month I’d get mini lip glosses I never wore and sheet masks I swore I’d use… and then didn’t.

It felt fun at first, like I was “treating myself” on autopilot. But over time, it just turned into clutter (and a monthly $20 reminder that I don’t need five versions of the same highlighter.)

So I canceled all of it. Now I actually use the products I already have, and when I want to try something new, I buy it intentionally. Wild, I know.

What I do instead:

• Shop my own bathroom cabinet
• Use things up before replacing
• If I want a splurge-y item, I check reviews first and wait for a sale

I feel more put together with less. And my bathroom drawers are breathing a sigh of relief.

Trendy Clothes I Wore Once (Maybe): $800/year

Here’s the cycle: see cute outfit on Pinterest → convince self I need it to “refresh my wardrobe” → wear it once (maybe) → donate or forget about it in a drawer labeled “summer stuff.” Repeat.

I used to buy trendy pieces because they were on sale or “a good deal,” even if they didn’t really fit my style. Turns out, the real money saver wasn’t just skipping the Zara haul… it was figuring out what I actually wear.

So I paused the impulse shopping, created a simple capsule wardrobe, and started rewearing things like it was 2003 and outfit repeating wasn’t a crime.

What I do now:

• Stick to versatile basics I love (and feel good in)
• Thrift for fun when I need something specific
• Use a “one in, one out” rule to keep it intentional

My closet’s no longer a disaster zone. My laundry’s easier. And I never have to wonder what to wear when everything already goes together.

Gifting Out of Guilt or Pressure: $400/year

I used to overthink every birthday, holiday, baby shower, housewarming… you name it. I’d stress-buy gifts that were “just okay” because I felt like I had to give something—fast. Half the time, it was more about avoiding awkwardness than actual generosity.

Turns out, gifting doesn’t have to mean draining your bank account or panic-adding a $50 candle set to cart.

Now I plan ahead, set a budget, and focus on thoughtful gifts over flashy ones. Sometimes that’s homemade treats or a handwritten letter. Sometimes it’s a cozy $12 book that I know they’ll love. And sometimes… it’s skipping the gift altogether and just showing up with good energy (and snacks).

What I do instead:

• Keep a list of gift ideas throughout the year
• Choose practical, meaningful gifts under $25
• Give experiences, time, or help when it makes more sense

Less spending, less stress, and way fewer “meh” gifts collecting dust.

Bottled Water + Single-Use Drinks: $100/year

It felt harmless. A sparkling water here, a random bottled tea there, an overpriced coconut water after pretending I exercised. But those little “grab-and-go” drinks add up fast—especially when you realize you’re basically paying $3 for water in a cute outfit.

Now I keep my own drinks on hand. I bring a reusable bottle everywhere, and I make iced herbal teas or lemon water at home for basically free.

What I do now:

• Keep a giant water bottle in the car/bag/life
• Brew tea at home and keep it in the fridge
• Skip the vending machine temptation (it’s 2025—tap water is fine)

Bonus: it’s better for the planet and my wallet. Win-win.

Name-Brand Cleaning Products: $150/year

For a while, I had a separate cleaning product for everything. One for the kitchen counters, one for the bathroom mirror, one that promised to make my floors smell like a lemon grove in Italy (spoiler: it didn’t). It felt like I was cleaning with money.

Then I realized… vinegar, baking soda, and a splash of essential oil get the job done just fine. I started making my own all-purpose spray, refilling old bottles, and buying ingredients in bulk instead of overpriced “eco” brands.

What I do now:

• DIY cleaner: vinegar + water + a few drops of lavender or citrus oil
• Reuse spray bottles (so satisfying, honestly)
• Keep it minimal—like, three products max

My home’s still clean, it smells amazing, and I’ve officially ended my toxic relationship with $9 countertop spray.

What I Learned from Cutting $5K in Spending

I thought cutting back would feel like deprivation. Like I’d be living in scarcity mode, romanticizing rice and beans and missing my $6 latte days. But weirdly… it didn’t. Once I stopped spending on stuff I didn’t actually care about, I didn’t miss it. At all.

What I did gain? Less financial stress. More room in my budget for things that matter. And the kind of everyday contentment that comes from knowing you’re not constantly bleeding money on things you barely remember buying.

If you’re trying to save without feeling miserable, start small. Pick one or two swaps from this list, track how much you actually save in a month, and go from there. It adds up faster than you’d think.

You don’t have to do it perfectly. Just do it on purpose.