Alice-Azania Jarvis: As usual, my thrifty plans are a washout

In The Red
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The Independent Online

So much for my plan to save money during festival season by making the most of those on in London. First it was Wireless that passed me by, and now Lovebox. What can I say? I've been away. And working. I didn't get my act together on time. Despite the fact that the event is approximately a seven-minute walk from my flat I didn't get round to organising tickets. And then ... it was sold out. Adding insult to injury, the giant enclosure erected by organisers has also cut off a sizeable chunck of my morning run.

It's the story of my life, really. My financial life, anyway. Start the day/week/month/year with such good intentions, and then watch as my thrifty plans crumble around me. At least this time I didn't respond by spending more than planned – and with tickets on resale sites going for £100, it was tempting.

Instead, I've saved money a different way: by not going. Not ideal, it's true – but perhaps it's worked out for the best. Friends who did manage to get tickets for Lovebox have come back with wearying reports of overpriced drinks and limited food. Worse: the sound system was at times, seemingly, on the blink. So much for listening to Snoop Dogg perform the whole of Doggystyle. Unless you made it to his private party at Shoreditch House, the odds are you didn't hear very much at all.

Perhaps it's prescient, then, that the weather has taken such a turn for the worst. Who feels like going to festivals when a thunderstorm is blowing? Give me a cappuccino, a chocolate bar and a Caffé Nero any day. I've always maintained that I spend less in summer than in winter – there's less of a need for entertainment, meeting up is suddenly relocated from the pub to the park, meals out replaced by picnics. With the onset of the dreary weather I'm starting to question my own hypothesis. I might be sheltering inside establishments where you've got to buy a drink before you settle down, but at least I'm not forking out for a lukewarm cider drunk in a rain-drenched park while watching a musician I can't even hear.

Still, smug as I might be feeling, I can't help hoping that the rain doesn't last. Much as I might be saving money by skipping festivals, I'm still hoping to go to a few. I've already got my tickets for V – I've never been before, but the combination of a Rihanna performance with its proximity to London has made this year too good to miss. At least if it does rain, I'll have a song to sing: "Umbrella". Sorry.

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