Definition: Recessionista

Noun. (plural recessionistas) 1. A person who is able to stick to a tight budget while still managing to dress stylishly. (Wiktionary)

Like a fabulous roommate and friend (and a fellow Diva herself), Asti came home on Friday with material for my blog.

"I've got a new word for you," she said. "RECESSIONISTA." I was hooked from the second the word rolled off her tongue-- and then, a little embarrassed that it hadn't yet been added to my vocabulary. It is now. And you Divas-- or recessionistas-- should give it a whirl, too. Above, Wiktionary's definition. Below, an example of its context.

From New York's Daily News, July 2008:

"Frugalness is the new black," said Kathryn Finney, author of "How to Be a Budget Fashionista." "People are looking at shopping and consumerism in completely different ways. I'm seeing people on Wall Street talking about getting their suits in Century 21. That would never have happened a few years ago. People are proud to be bargain hunters." (Frugal fashion: New Yorkers learn to look good for a lot less)

In the spirit of today's urban slang lesson, I took an article from London's Times Online, 50 ways to be a recessionista, and tiered it to la vie in Boston:

How to be a recessionista in Boston

THE WAY WE WERE. THE WAY WE ARE NOW.

Sunday brunch at the Aujourd'hui (200 Boylston St., Back Bay). DIY crepes, served on a tray with a napkin.
A day at Bella Sante (38 Newbury St., Back Bay). Perfect your pedicure technique on a mate.

The morning Starbucks run. A good ol' fashion brew from the kitchen. (Gives you a few minutes more of shut-eye each day!)
Afternoon tea at the Taj (15 Arlington St., Back Bay) A slug of rum in your Nestle's hot chocolate.
New shoes. New heels and soles for your old Jimmy Choos.
Redecorating your bedroom. Rearranging your bookshelves.
A romantic mini-break. A weekend’s worth of DVD box sets and takeaways.
A hot tub for the garden. An hour-long bath, while sipping a vodka tonic.
Buying into the military look. Changing the buttons on your winter coat.
A Friday blow-dry. A set of heated rollers stashed in your desk drawer.
Dressing up and eating out. Doing the housework in lingerie.
Vintage Dom Pérignon Sipping. $6.99 Prosecco from Trader Joes

(748 Memorial Dr., Cambridge; 1317 Beacon St., Brookline).

Paying for therapy. A bitch-session with your fellow Divas.
A weekly flower delivery from the florist. A trip to the 'burbs to pick your own.
Dry cleaning your statement blouse. Airing it in off the balcony.
The 7/8 trouser length. Chopping the bottoms off last season’s skinnies.
Upgrading to the new BlackBerry Bold. Going blackberry picking.
Shopping every weekend on Newbury Street. Swearing off shopping (unless, perhaps, there's a bargain to be found...).
Personal-training sessions at Sports Club/LA (4 Avery St., Chinatown). Letting rip on the dance floor at every opportunity.
New hairdo. New parting.
A weekly manicure. CVS’s long-lasting manicure.
eBay. craigslist free listings.
Having it all. Having to choose the one, utterly perfect thing you just have to have this month.
Investing in a new-season Gucci folk dress. Wearing a skinny jumper under a summer smock.
A new cashmere scarf. Joining a knitting group.
Big statement jewelry. Scouring a flea market for old costume jewelry.
Member’s clubs. Starting a book club.
Going away with friends. Having friends to stay.
Botox. Detox.

(Photo Credit: Recession illustration for the Style section of the New York Times.)