I am broadly in favour of high standards: without them, we’d probably still think bone flutes are the height of sophistication. But after almost 40 years of living, I have also realised that constantly upholding high standards in every single area of one’s life is exhausting (and frequently also expensive). Don’t do it to yourself. Or to anyone, really.

As a result of this realisation, I have a very flexible relationship with standards. For example when it comes to movies, I have no standards to speak of. I kinda enjoyed Green Lantern and that should tell you everything you need to know. I’m also a messy person, I find that keeping everything neat and tidy takes so much energy I believe could be better spent elsewhere. And I buy cheap jeans.

On the other hand, I have high standards for the media I consume: as one Estonian campaign eloquently put it, I refuse to click on shit. I am picky with perfume and pretty much only wear sweaters made of cashmere and merino wool – everything else makes me terribly itchy and no-one should endure itchiness. The key is to decide what’s important to you and focus on that, not to be distracted by what other people think you should do or own or prioritise.

Your own views on this can of course also change. I used to be largely indifferent to what coffee I drank and mostly bought 10-euro sunglasses, as I just didn’t care and kept losing them anyway (the sunglasses, not the coffee). I still think bad coffee has a certain charm, a specific kind of romance about it that love: you know, getting a random black coffee on your way home from a party at 6am or studying through the night with a mug full of very suspicious Nescafe. However, if I’m actually going to a cafe and paying people considerable amounts of money to make me a flat white, I have decided that it better be a good one.

This change of heart is mainly the fault of My Little Cup, where I have a coffee every time I finish an exercise session. It happens to be right across the street from my gym and also just happens to be the nicest cafe in Brussels. They do all the hard work for me*, so I don’t have to scout the best organic coffee growers and responsible roasters; they stock pretty, sustainable keep cups and serve the coffee in beautiful carafes and crystal tumblers and lovely blue vessels. I trust them to know their washed coffees from the honey-processed ones, so that I don’t have to.

All I have to do is sit down and I feel cooler already. This is why a good pair of sunglasses is like a great cafe – you put the glasses on and, without any effort on your part, look like you’ve got your shit together. I have sang the praises of my Celine and Dior sunglasses on the blog already and while a good pair doesn’t need to be from a big name brand, I decided at some point that I’m done with handing over my money to people who cannot design sunglasses that would add some badassery to my outfit. Unlike clothes that have to be combined well and suit you and often demand quite an effort by the wearer, sunglasses should work even if – and especially if – the wearer is in no condition to make any effort.

Without going into long discussions on privilege and first world problems and how fancy lattes are our financial downfall, this post is not about spending more. It is about what is a good return on investment for you (I’m using the term loosely here) and making your own rules. In my case, the rule seems to be: for entertainment, feel free to go as low as you like; for coffee and sunglasses – upgrade.

*They are also extremely nice. You should NEVER visit places that make you feel bad because you don’t know enough about coffee or don’t match their aesthetic or whatever other stupid reasons there might be. Unless being humiliated is your thing.

Pictures courtesy of My Little Cup. You can tell that these are not my pictures by the simple fact that they look very good.