Hard times make life’s little treats so much sweeter

There is a special word to describe people awaiting a terrible fate but who still have a chance of escaping it — "previvors". This is what doctors call people who carry a genetic risk of developing a serious illness. "Previvors" are future survivors or future victims — no one knows which just yet. Which is exactly the situation we're all facing in economic terms at the moment.
Some of us are marked men and women. Others will emerge from the credit crunch unscathed. You can only guess at your eventual diagnosis — or whether you'll escape the condition altogether. It's too late for insurance and preventative measures. All you can do is watch in horror and hope for the best.
This sounds glum. But it's actually rather exhilarating. Like a sick person given a reprieve by the doctors, it's a chance to appreciate what we've got. Suddenly life's little treats really do feel like a luxury instead of an entitlement.
The most constructive form of previvor behaviour is already taking hold: risk-calculated hedonism. My sister sold the contents of her wardrobe on eBay — and then immediately spent the proceeds on buying up the contents of other people's wardrobes, also on eBay. My neighbours have cancelled their holiday but are buying a gigantic plasma screen. "A last splurge before the bad times bite," they say. "At least we won't mind staying at home as much."
The rise of the creative customer will have knock-on effects. Anyone with anything to sell will have to work that bit harder. Which means better service. This week I experienced a luxury unimaginable pre-crunch: a leisurely dinner. I booked a table for four at the new Tierra Brindisa on Broadwick Street, an offshoot of the Borough Market place. In this part of Soho the double-sitting policy is notorious and you're lucky to get a table for more than an hour and a half. No such insult any longer. They won't be bothering with double sittings, they said. We stayed for four hours. (£30 a head. Justifiable, surely?)
The crunch encourages this kind of civilised behaviour. Yes, the doom-mongers may already be warning us to tighten our belts for the "worst Christmas in 30 years". But if that means buying less tat, throwing away less spoiled food and seeing my children play with the cornucopia of toys they already own, then I will be thrilled. Retailers can learn to rise to the challenge. In fact, I note that the seasonal panettone is already on special offer at the local supermarket.
This is not meltdown — yet. It's responsible consumerism. We could have done with a bit more of it over the past 10 years. Then we might not have got into this mess in the first place. Let's keep up the previvor spirit and maybe we can ride this out with dignity.