Money, Mindset and Mayhem. Expat Addition

Navigating money talk when "cheap" isn't a compliment.

Let’s talk money, honey.

Because yesterday’s post? Adorable. Whimsical. Full of sunshine and baguettes.

But it left out a major piece of the vacation versus real life abroad puzzle.

The coin. The cash. The cold, hard euros.

Now, don’t get me wrong…Europe is sexy. My first time here was on our honeymoon in Italy, and mama mia, I was ready to cheat on my whole life. Cinque Terre? She flirted with me. We hiked those hills, I saw those houses clinging to cliffs like Italian grandmas hanging laundry, and I said:

“I want to live here.” I literally begged Yuri, but that man is far too urban to even entertain the idea of a house in the dreamy hills of the Italian countryside. If a place doesn’t have strong Wi-Fi, a café within 10 steps, and a H&M nearby, it’s a firm “no” from him. Rustic charm? He calls that “poor lighting and nature.”

Yuri came for the snack, not nature. But me? I was trying to figure out how to sell plasma and apply for dual citizenship at the same time.

I fell in love. With him, yes. But also with €3 wine and streets older than the Declaration of Independence. And in that moment, I decided: someday, I will live here.

Spoiler alert: “someday” came a lot sooner than expected.

Also spoiler: vacation math is fake math. We all know it.

When you’re traveling with your honeymoon goggles on, everything seems affordable.

A glass of wine for €4? “We’re practically SAVING money! A 3-course meal for €18? “Let’s get two!” A charming 400-year-old house for the price of a studio in small town Iowa? “We’ll take it!”

And then you move here and you realize that while yes, things are more affordable, you can’t just gallop through the village shouting, ‘EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP!’ like a budget-conscious contestant on The Price Is Right: Expat Edition.

Because here’s the thing: What’s affordable to us, the Trader Joe’s $300-a-week, brunch-on-a-Tuesday crowd, is expensive to many locals. People here don’t make six figures. They don’t UberEats lunch every day. They don’t impulse-buy kitchen gadgets at Target because they blacked out in the homewares aisle. They are not impressed by your €300 toaster.

This is their real life. And if you stomp in with your big American wallet energy and start acting like you’re living some Eat Pray Love fantasy in the produce section, you will 100% be that expat….and no one wants to sit next to that expat at apéro.

When we first got to Carrefour, I had a full-blown moment. Like, wait, is this real life or just a beautifully stocked French fever dream? Strawberries were like €2. Wine was cheaper than soda. I texted everyone I knew. I was on the verge of starting a TikTok account called “France is basically free.”

Then someone said, “Oh, you think Carrefour is affordable? Just wait until you see Aldi.”

And baby, I saw Aldi.

It’s like Trader Joe’s took off the Hawaiian shirt, stopped trying to flirt with me, and got straight to business. No frills, no cutesy packaging, just groceries that slap with wine and cheese that doesn’t require a second mortgage.

Now, before you start looking up one-way flights and whispering “Aldi” into your vision board, here’s your reality check: living abroad is still living.

Yes, we live in France. No, we don’t live like royalty. We’re not dining on oysters every Friday or buying antique bed sets for fun. We’re just living… intentionally. On a budget. The kind of budget that involves lists, receipts, and occasionally telling your partner, “No, we do not need another ceramic dish just because it’s hand-painted.” Okay well likely Yuri is reminding me of that not the other way around. But hey, heart wants what it wants.

We shop smart. We cook at home. We buy wine with screw tops and call it “eco-friendly.” We don’t deprive ourselves, but we don’t pretend it’s a vacation every day either.

There are no daily Amazon deliveries. No mindless errands that somehow end at a Starbucks drive-thru.

Here, your euros go a long way unless you’re trying to live like you’ve got Kardashian cash and Emily in Paris aesthetics.

The shift isn’t just financial—it’s cultural. You stop asking, “What do I want to buy today?” and start asking, “What do I need?” Spoiler: it’s usually a baguette, some cheese, and a nap.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But if you’re not working… how are you affording this?” Great question. So glad the French doctor asked it first.

We were at an appointment with Sonia and she hit us with, “So what do you do for work?” And we, with practiced calm, said, “We don’t work. We can’t. We’re retired…ish.” Her eyebrows did the full Eiffel Tower lift. “Retired? But… you’re so young! What luck!”

Which is French for: “You must be disgustingly rich.”

We are not.

But you can’t say that. Because they’re working, you’re not, and perception does its little dance. You’re living what looks like luxury, even when you’re just budgeting like a maniac and praying the washing machine doesn’t die

Sonia’s final ballet performance for the season and our dog Zelda

.And Sonia? Our daughter still thinks the ATM is a magical money box and the bank is just where we go to demand cash. When I ask her who’s paying, she looks at me like I’ve lost it and says, “You are, Daddy. Just go get more from the wall machine.” Honestly, she’s not entirely wrong. Her heart wants what it wants too.

The truth is, people ask all the time:

What does it cost to live here?

And the answer is: you can live comfortably here but not carelessly. France rewards simplicity. So if you’re chasing status or hoping to keep up with the Joneses, spoiler: they don’t live here. They’re back in LA arguing about Tesla colors.

You don’t need to be rich. You just need to be realistic. And the French? Oh, they do not vibe with the rich. If you roll up flashing designer logos and talking about your second home in Monaco, they’ll revolt faster than you can say “guillotine chic.”

Moral of the story?

Be a kind guest in your new community.

Don’t flex. Don’t talk about how “cheap” things are. Don’t go full HGTV villain and start buying up old houses just because they’re “such a steal.”

Live locally. Spend mindfully. Don’t be a jerk in Crocs.

Like this post? Click that heart, restack it, and send it to your cousin who thinks moving to Europe is just “vibing with better bread.”

Follow me on Instagram at @Le_Simple_Sudiste for more chaos, Sonia quotes, and hard truths about money and meat thermometers.

And remember:

Retirement is a mindset. France is a mood. And budgeting?

It’s just romantic math.

Bisous and balance sheets,

Your favorite frugal expat with an Aldi tote bag and no shame.