Blog

I’ve started my 2026 budget with more enthusiasm than I expected—nudging numbers up and down and feeling oddly proud of myself for not using the giant green columnar paper I have relied on in the past. These days, I use an Excel sheet a colleague helped me design back in 2010. It’s not fancy, but it works. The best part is I can just copy it and start fresh each year, hoping costs don’t go up too much. Every year, I think about how I can save money to make my retirement income go further.

Lately, I’ve been following some Facebook and Reddit groups for money‑saving ideas. What surprised me most wasn’t the creativity, it was the source. A huge number of clever, practical tips are coming from Generation Z. Yes, the same Zoomers who supposedly live on fancy coffees. Turns out they also know how to stretch a dollar in ways that would make my Depression‑era mom proud.

I’ve heard the jokes about Zoomers living at home longer or staying on their parents’ health insurance. And sure, staying on a parent’s plan is a financial win, especially when healthcare costs keep rising. But every generation has had its own economic plot twists. One of my biggest surprises in retirement was learning that Medicare isn’t free. I felt like someone should’ve pulled me aside years earlier and whispered, “By the way… brace yourself.”

My Boomer generation was raised with a strong emphasis on independence. Many of us left home early for college, marriage, or, for some, the Vietnam War. My husband at the time drew draft number 351; that year, they were only drafting up to 100. Younger generations sometimes point out that Boomers had cheaper housing or jobs with pensions, and they’re not wrong. But we also lived through our own periods of upheaval that shaped how we see the world. We worried about the population bomb and that other bomb as we hid under our desks during nuclear drills in elementary school. I grew up in Orlando, Florida, and we were told we lived in a first‑strike area. Reading Alas, Babylon in 8th grade, I understood the fears our parents had. There were even door‑to‑door bomb‑shelter salesmen trying to get you to buy in. Now I think how silly that would be in Florida, where you hit water if you dig down two feet. We survived those years, went on to have families, and learned to save for retirement—something I’m grateful to be experiencing, since I’m the only one in my family to ever collect Social Security. Everyone else passed away before reaching the magic age.

Zoomers, meanwhile, are staring down housing prices that look like typos, student loans that refuse to take the hint, and everyday costs that pile up quickly. When I hear someone say, “Well, back in my day…,” I sometimes remind them that long‑distance phone calls used to be so expensive that I had a workaround when I’d drive home three hours from visiting my mom: I’d call collect, and she’d refuse the charges, which was her way of knowing I got home safely. I bought a home in my 20s, but mortgage rates were 16%. So every era has its own version of “You paid what?”

What I admire about Zoomers is how they’re adapting. Many are choosing smaller living spaces, rejecting the idea that a four‑year degree is the only path, and using technology to support frugal habits. They remind me a bit of the Silent Generation—resourceful, practical, and willing to rethink the rules. Some bike or take public transit to save the planet, which is something I do purely to save a lot of money—taking public transportation, that is. If I tried biking, I would need to use my Medicare.

I’ve spent years budgeting, cooking at home, using digital coupons, and shopping at thrift stores—or, if I want something new, at our local TJ Maxx. But Zoomers bring a kind of enthusiasm to frugality that feels fresh. They restore old furniture, thrift with purpose, swap items through Buy Nothing and Freecycle groups, and learn to cook from online videos. They challenge each other to “no‑spend” days, and they share how they feed themselves on tight budgets without losing their sense of humor—even getting free half‑eaten pizzas from their Buy Nothing group! In our Wallingford Buy Nothing group, we have an annual free day, where everyone puts their stuff out in front of their homes, adding their address to a map, and folks can just come by and take what they want. My generation had garage sales, and sometimes we put crazy‑high prices on our precious stuff and then wondered why no one was biting. At the end of the day, we’d give up and put it out for free or drag it back into the garage or basement.

Maybe part of Zoomers’ creativity comes from necessity. Traditional milestones feel further away, so they’re building new ones. I sometimes imagine that in a few decades, we’ll look back on this period the way people look back on the 1970s, when big Gatsby‑era houses sat empty and smaller, simpler living started to look appealing again. Maybe those 1990s McMansions will be turned into multiple housing units for multiple families to share, like the communes of the 1970s. Trends cycle. History cycles. Even shag carpet might cycle—though I sincerely hope we leave the avocado‑green appliances in the past.

What I hope most is that we see each generation for what it really is: people living in the time they were given, adapting the best way they can. And if we keep learning from each other—sharing hints and hacks and the occasional half‑eaten pizza—we might just make this journey through the ups and downs a little better for all of us.

Editor’s note: see past articles in Patti’s series “Retiring in Wallingford”:

• Our Walk Score is Our Best Asset
• Weather or Not a White Christmas
• Book Review: Dancing with the Muse in Old Age by Priscilla Long
• Living Without a Car
• How Did I Collect All This “Stuff”?
• Aging in Place in Your Family Home
• Navigating Volunteer Opportunities
• Retiring in Wallingford on a Budget