‘We've cut back on holidays and stopped employing a cleaner': Meet the ‘middle-class poor'

Yahoo

23-02-2025

'Middle class' used to be shorthand for a certain lifestyle. Holidays once or twice a year, perhaps a fortnight in Tuscany and skiing in France at half term. Eating out regularly, and an Ocado van parked outside the house, sagging with hummus and sourdough. Homeware from John Lewis, weekend dinner parties with 'good' wine… all the trappings for which we mocked ourselves but still thoroughly enjoyed. Then there were the solid pensions, the secure savings, the family property on a leafy street near good, perhaps even private, schools. As members of the middle classes, it all seemed within reach. Now, however, not so much.
The cost of living crisis saw energy bills shoot up 54 per cent in April 2022, then a further 27 per cent in October that year – and they still hover far above pre-crisis levels. Meanwhile, the Food Foundation reveals the average food basket cost has risen by 27.3 per cent since 2022. UK housing now costs 44 per cent more than it does in the 38 member countries of the OECD (Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development), with lucky Dutch families a huge 39 per cent better off than we are.
The Office of National Statistics defines a middle-class salary as between around £30,000 and £60,000. Yet the Financial Fairness Trust (FFT) recently found that around 20 per cent are 'struggling to afford food and essentials', while many others are using savings to live on or accruing debt. Policy adviser at the FFT, Donald Hirsh, said: '(It's affecting) people who you would expect to be doing OK. Being on a middle income does not make people secure in the current cost of living crisis.'
Author of Leadership is a Skill, and leadership development trainer, Andy Coley, 48, lives in London. He is married with three children and says: 'We've cut back on holiday plans, even UK trips, and we've switched to shopping in places like Aldi and B&M. We've also stopped employing a cleaner and taking the bedding to the laundrette. Now, we do endless loads of washing instead.'
School uniforms are bought on Vinted, he adds, and rather than fork out for kids' clubs in the holidays, 'we now can't work simultaneously. Instead, we've been juggling it between us.'
Coley notes that 'lots of our friends are also having to economise, particularly those who are self-employed. If things don't improve, we'll have to think seriously about moving out of London.'
It's not just the self-employed struggling, either. Many previously iron-clad middle-class careers, including those in the media and hospitality, are shedding jobs like autumn leaves. The number of employees in the UK dropped by 47,000 in December, and job-search site Indeed reported overall postings are down 14 per cent since early 2020.
Doctors and teachers are quitting in droves, largely due to stress. More than 40 per cent of GPs see themselves leaving the profession in the next five years, according to the Royal College of General Practioners, while figures from the Department of Education show almost 9 per cent of teachers dropped out of schools in 2022. Elsewhere, university leavers, who were once guaranteed good jobs, are struggling to even get a toe on the career ladder.
I'm not issuing invitations to the world's tiniest violin recital here, but it's clear that having what used to be considered a decent career is now nowhere near enough to enjoy the perks it once bestowed.
Katie Mitchell runs a baby photography business and lives in Gloucester with her Army officer husband and their seven-year-old son. 'Previously we were both in the Army and commanded a good wage. Then we had our son and I became self-employed,' she explains. 'I was starting to grow the business, then our mortgage almost doubled in January last year and it's been a struggle ever since.'
Bills have gone up, too, she adds. 'We were spending over £300 a month. I went through a phase of trying to stop heating the house unnecessarily and it was just miserable.' Now, Mitchell works long hours. 'I love growing the business, but every time it reaches a milestone, the bills go up, so I never feel I'm getting anywhere.' She adds: 'We live on our overdraft a lot more than we used to, which is something we never would have done in the past. We've accrued debts with surprise payments, too – for instance, our roof needed fixing.'
Mitchell has also switched her vehicle to electric to save on fuel, and committed to a 'no-spend January'. 'Normally, we'd grab a treat from the shop after school or I'd go to a coffee shop to work. Now I buy treats at the supermarket rather than on impulse. I cook at home a lot more, whereas in the past we might have gone to eat at the pub or got fish and chips.' And while she's clinging to her gym membership, 'I'd no longer pay for a massage or a spa day with friends. I go on boring walks instead.'
Like many of us, Mitchell misses holidays the most. 'We need to prioritise paying off the debts first. Once, we would have gone skiing every year or somewhere warm in summer, but that's not happening.'
Middle-class cutting back has quietly become standard, she adds. 'People have said to me, 'I didn't realise you were struggling too'. But we're earning over £100k between us – how can you not live easily on that? It seems ridiculous.'
She's not wrong. I too am one of a growing number of people who might be called 'middle-class poor'. In my case, we haven't had a holiday since 2019 (an off-season week in Spain) and I never buy new books – once my greatest joy. Instead, I hang around BorrowBox, the online library, waiting to see if anyone's returned the latest Lisa Jewell. Ditto clothes – I've always enjoyed a bargain, but the £1 rail at the local community shop is now my go-to. And rather than shop at the lovely local deli, where I used to buy Teapigs (£10.95 for 50 bags, yes, I know), I've secretly begun to frequent Farmfoods for bulk buys of Yorkshire Tea.
Thankfully, Ocado and M&S – food-shopping temples for the middle class – seem to grasp the problem. Despite post-budget worries, Ocado CEO Hannah Gibson has promised that the beloved grocer is 'very focussed on the value that we offer… there will be additional costs and we'll continue to work to make sure we're mitigating that so we can protect our consumers.' M&S CEO Stuart Machin has also said the store aims to shield customers from rising prices.
But even if we can still pick up a Honduran prawn sandwich at lunchtime, that won't change school fees, childcare costs and household bills.
'I see first-hand how rising costs are making life tougher, even for those who wouldn't usually consider themselves struggling,' says Louisa Willcox, a South West-based 'Profit Mentor' who helps businesses manage their money. 'I live with my husband and two children, and, despite running a successful business, we've had to adjust our spending.'
Things like clothes shopping, home improvements and spontaneous treats have all been scaled back. 'When everything from the food shop to the gas bill is going up, something has to give,' she says. 'You go to the supermarket and spend £50 on what used to cost £30. A family day out now feels like a luxury instead of a normal treat. It's frustrating and so many people are trying to figure out where they can cut back without feeling like they're missing out too much.'
And while some middle-class midlifers have savings and hefty pension pots to rely on, others, like me, do not. I've been a self-employed writer and novelist for 30 years, and was very much of the 'grasshopper' mentality when it came to money; 'You never know when you'll be paid, so buy those shoes while you can' was my approach. Two large Victorian houses slipped through my fingers, the profits from which dwindled to nothing post-divorce. Now, [even] though my husband and I live in a small cottage in rural Scotland, the cost of gas and electricity is, quarterly, more than my parents paid for the house I grew up in.
I know, of course, that compared to millions I'm still enormously lucky and any future pension penury is entirely my own fault. But I am wondering what will become of the pleasures that for decades, the middle-class backbone of Britain has taken for granted. Trips to restaurants, good food and wine, a choice of schools, sunny holidays, decent-size homes on reasonably pleasant streets… increasingly, those things are out of reach, and we're working not for enjoyable extras, but to keep the roof over our heads. We're cutting corners, failing to save, buying less treats, using fewer services – all of which has a giant knock-on effect on the economy. Could this crisis mean the end of the middle classes as we know them or are we just biding our time until we have enough saved to make a triumphant return to John Lewis?
'I can't see things getting any easier or cheaper for at least five years,' admits Coley. 'It's taken a long time to get this terrible and it'll take a while to bring down costs, improve people's earnings – and get people feeling happier about spending money again.'
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