"Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities..." (Frank Lloyd Wright)

We have been hearing about austerity measures relentlessly for years. What is almost worse, we have actually been living with them. The day to day life of everyone here has been deeply affected. We have unpaid bills robbing us of peaceful sleep, very often no insurance, and are uncertain even of the very roof over our heads. Necessities are no longer a given.

Luxury, on the other hand, flows unabated. There is nothing "austere" about life in Greece- it continues to be sumptuous, dazzling, juicy, abundant in every material pleasure. Such robust pleasures as these are beyond the reach of any sort of measure- one might as well try to legislate the lusciousness out of a fig.

Despite the fact that whenever there is a blackout I think our electricity has finally been cut off because we have not paid the bill, I am having a hard time feeling sorry for myself. The fact is that we live an enormously elaborate, well-appointed life, rich in culture, occasional frivolity, books, and beautiful meals. And this more so than before Austerity became a household word: Elegance has become a spiritual necessity. Depending on your political views, it might even be a moral imperative.

We are living more elegantly than we ever have, with much less money than we ever had. I had imagined luxury largely a function of money, but strip the money away and this shines like a marquise diamond: Luxury is a function of care, of choice.

Our household budget for four is 100 euros a week for everything that isn't a bill- tomatoes, laundry soap, bus tickets, ouzo meze, biscuits for the dog, milk, tea, outdoor cinema at dusk, lipstick, ice cream cones at one in the morning when it is too hot to sleep. Sometimes the budget is closer to 80.

In truth I am the least likely of home economists. I adore the material world, and am regrettably not particularly modest in any of my appetites. Yet, they all remain sated. In the Austerity Diaries I hope to share the mixture of prudence and lavishness that enable us to live as well as we do in our beautiful country. Even as means are limited, pleasure surely is not.

As a first measure, listen to Marie Antoinette, who wisely prescribes lots of cake: