Illustration by Leo Walton
We pride Auckland on three things: Its temperatures, Ponsonby Road, and the irrefutable fact that if you walk down Queen Street you'll be yelled at by someone. Back to temperatures, we have it pretty good here. When it’s hot, it’s fucking sizzling and when it’s ‘cold’ it’s about nine degrees. But we’ll still find a way to complain about everything because we’re climatised snobs that sadly find this weather unbearable without our Mitsubishi heat pumps blasting our faces dry.
“Bills, bills, bills,” I hear Destiny’s Child preach. These can sneakily stack up in the colder months with heaters more turned on than you when you hear Briscoes has a sale. Here’s a few ways you can save your dollars for half-decent stuff:
Not your fuckbuddy from Friday, the rubber sack that you fill with boiling water. They’re about $5 from Kmart and if you fill it and chuck it in your bed before you hop in, it’ll warm it for you like a boyfriend’s toes. Nice.
Ogres have them. So do you, now use them and stop thinking about whether opening the oven door is going to warm the entire house up. I like to start with a singlet, followed by a long sleeve, then a t-shirt, then a dressing gown, then a Chinchilla suit sewn by my great-grandmother, then a tablecloth with microfibre lining before I hop inside my Country Road bag and fly myself to Barbados.
Maybe it’s your power provider that’s causing unnecessary high bills. Have a look into deals with other companies as some will provide daily free power hours or starting credits.
Whoever said tea solves everything has never scooped three tablespoons of Milo into their mug (and then another three because two spilled all over the bench). Hot drinks can work wonders to heat you from the inside out. Chug ‘em back.
As of July 1st this year, landlords are legally required to have insulation installed in the ceiling and flooring of their properties. If you’re not sure if you have any then ASK. Heat isn’t going to stick around and chat if you don’t have the insulation to support it.
Heat escapes out your feet quicker than Arion tells you that your password is wrong. No one should be barefoot ever anyway. Especially not in Countdown at 2pm on a Sunday.
4.30pm and it’s dark, shitty and confusingly feels like dinner time. That cold is gonna start kicking in if it hasn’t already, so start shutting your curtains early to keep whatever miniscule heat you’ve got inside.
Sometimes it’s your body temperature that’s the problem, not your house. Try defrosting in a hot shower and slamming on the jim jams right after. If you’re skimping on using hot water too then I think it’s time to call Mum and Dad.
Two lukewarm bodies are better than one. Invite your flatmate, your partner, your neighbour, your postie, whoever is ‘active now’, in for an economical snuggle.
Sometimes I wonder what I can roast just so I can absorb oven heat. No, not really, but it does toast you up, with the bonus feature of making you smell like a potato.
If your hand does twitch towards the heater, be smart about it. Don’t heat the rooms you’re not using. Shut the damn doors.
If you can’t afford heating, go to someone’s house who can.