The call came in just a few weeks ago. My son, home for the summer after his freshman year, was bubbling with excitement. “Dad, I found a place! Me and a couple of guys from the dorm are getting an apartment next year.”
I’m happy for him, really. It’s a rite of passage, a big step toward independence. But in the back of my mind, I could already hear the cash register ringing. Furniture, utilities, food—it’s a whole new world of expenses he’s never had to consider.
When you’ve spent the last year in a shoebox-sized dorm room with a built-in bed and meal plan, the financial reality of off-campus life can hit you like a freight train.
So, we sat down over a cup of coffee. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Let me tell you something, son. Moving into a new place is like a stock market. You can either make a lot of smart, small trades that pay off in the long run, or you can go all-in on one big, expensive idea that leaves you broke.”
The Psychology of the “New”
The first thing you have to understand is the psychology of the “new.” We are wired to want new things for our new lives. New apartment? New couch. New kitchen? New cookware set. It’s a clean slate, a fresh start, and our brains tell us that this new chapter deserves a new aesthetic.
This is a dangerous impulse. It’s the investing equivalent of buying into a hot IPO the minute it hits the market. You get swept up in the hype and emotion, and you pay a huge premium for something that will be worth a fraction of that price a year from now.
Your first apartment is not a permanent home. It’s a temporary station, a place for a few years of late-night study sessions and cereal for dinner. You don’t need the Pottery Barn living room.
What you need is a place to sit, a place to sleep, and a place to eat. Focus on the function, not the feeling.
Lesson 1: The First Rule of Moving is “Don’t Move Anything You Don’t Have To”
The biggest mistake I see kids make is trying to move too much stuff. They haul every single thing they own from their childhood bedroom to their new place.
And then, once they get there, they realize they have three sets of pots and pans, a mismatched assortment of lamps, and a coffee table that doesn’t fit in the living room.
Your college town is filled with students just like you who are moving out. They’re trying to get rid of things they no longer need.
It’s a literal gold mine for someone starting from scratch. Think of it as your own personal flea market.
Before you buy a single box, take a walk through the neighborhoods around campus. You will find perfectly good couches, chairs, and lamps sitting on the curb, free for the taking. This is called “curbside investing.” It’s a zero-cost acquisition that immediately adds value.
The cost of a U-Haul truck and a couple of friends’ backs is nothing compared to the price of new furniture. I’m talking about a couch, a dresser, even a table.
You don’t need to drive across the state with your dad’s truck full of furniture. Find it there.
Lesson 2: The Power of the Shared Economy
You and your roommates are about to enter a new financial ecosystem. The three of you, working together, can dramatically reduce your costs.
This is the financial equivalent of a diversified portfolio. When one person takes on a cost, everyone benefits.
The first step is a frank conversation. Sit down with your roommates and make a list of everything you need for the common areas: a microwave, a TV, a couch, a vacuum cleaner. Then, divide and conquer.
One person is in charge of finding a microwave. Another is on the hunt for a TV. Someone else is the “curbside investor” for the living room.
This prevents duplication and spreads the initial financial burden across the group.
Think of it like a collective investment fund. You’re all pooling your resources to acquire the assets you need to live.
And if you’re smart, you’ll put an asterisk next to items that will become your personal property when you move out.
Maybe one of you is in charge of the TV, and when you all go your separate ways, that TV goes with them.
Lesson 3: The Small Costs are the Ones That Kill You
We often obsess over the big expenses, like rent, and forget about the little ones that bleed us dry.
These are the equivalent of hidden fees in an investment account. They seem insignificant, but over time, they erode your wealth.
- Utilities: Your electric bill is not a fixed cost. It’s an incentive. Leaving lights on and the A/C blasting when you’re not home is like paying a 20% annual fee on a mutual fund. It’s pure waste. Be mindful, turn things off, and you’ll see the difference.
- The Internet: Cable TV is an anachronism, a legacy cost that belongs in a museum. The internet is your most important utility. And here’s a tip: don’t rent the modem and router from the cable company. It’s like paying a recurring lease on a piece of furniture you could have bought outright for a fraction of the cost. Buy your own from Amazon or Best Buy, and you’ll save yourself a ton of money over the course of your lease.
- Groceries vs. Takeout: Your dorm meal plan was a beautiful thing, even if you complained about the food. It forced you to eat in one place. Now, you have unlimited options, which can be a financial disaster. Cooking at home is like compound interest for your budget. A $10 meal out is a single event. The ingredients for that same meal can feed you for a week.
The Bottom Line: A Simple Philosophy
The most important lesson here isn’t about specific purchases. It’s a mindset. It’s the difference between thinking, “How can I afford this new life?” and thinking, “How can I make this new life work with what I have?”
Financial decisions are just as much about psychology as they are about numbers. The best investors are not the ones who chase the next big thing.
They’re the ones who are patient, who understand their own emotions, and who see opportunity where others see garbage.
So, when you and your buddies are getting ready to move, don’t let the excitement trick you into buying something you don’t need.
Take a deep breath. Walk around the neighborhood. And for God’s sake, don’t buy a brand-new couch. I guarantee you can find a perfectly good one for free.