10 things lower-middle-class people do on holiday without realizing how they’re perceived by others

A few years back, my husband and I saved for months to take a trip to Barcelona. We were so excited. We’d packed snacks from home, mapped out every free museum day, and felt proud of our planning.

Then at breakfast one morning, I overheard another couple at the hotel laughing about tourists who “nickel and dime everything.” Something clicked. Were they talking about people like us?

That moment made me realize how much of what we do on holiday is shaped by our economic background, and how those habits can be perceived by others in ways we never intended.

Here’s the thing: there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being practical or budget-conscious. But through working with clients from various backgrounds and reflecting on my own experiences, I’ve noticed certain patterns that can unintentionally signal class markers to others.

Let me walk you through ten behaviors that might be giving off signals you didn’t realize you were sending.

1) Packing food from home for the entire trip

I used to pack an entire suitcase corner with granola bars, instant oatmeal packets, and those little single-serve peanut butter containers. It made perfect sense to me. Why pay hotel prices when you can bring your own?

But here’s what I learned from clients who travel frequently for work: while packing a few snacks is smart, bringing your entire pantry can come across differently than you’d think.

Wealthier travelers tend to view dining as part of the cultural experience, not just fuel. They budget for meals the same way they budget for accommodations. When you’re pulling out Ziploc bags of cereal in the hotel lobby every morning, it signals that eating local food feels like an unaffordable luxury rather than part of the adventure.

I’m not saying you should blow your budget on every meal. But consider this: what if you brought snacks for emergencies but allowed yourself to experience at least one authentic local meal per day?

2) Taking every free toiletry and breakfast item available

During that Barcelona trip, I’ll admit it. I took every little shampoo bottle, even the sewing kit I’d never use. At breakfast, I’d wrap pastries in napkins “for later.” I thought I was being resourceful.

A colleague once told me about staying at a conference hotel where she watched someone fill an entire tote bag with breakfast muffins and fruit. She didn’t judge them harshly, but she did notice. And that’s the point. It gets noticed.

Hotels expect you to use the toiletries in your room. That’s fine. But when you’re stockpiling items from the housekeeping cart or clearing out the breakfast buffet like you’re prepping for winter, it broadcasts a scarcity mindset that others pick up on.

The wealthier approach? Take what you’ll actually use during your stay, enjoy the breakfast while you’re there, and trust that you’ll have access to food later.

3) Constantly calculating exchange rates out loud

“Wait, how much is that in dollars? Let me check the app.”

I used to do this at every transaction. Coffee? Check the rate. Postcards? Convert it first. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overspending.

But pulling out your phone to calculate currency every single time you make a purchase signals financial anxiety. It tells people around you that every small expense feels significant and potentially threatening to your budget.

People with more financial cushion tend to do a rough mental conversion once and then just live in the local currency. They’ve already decided what they’re comfortable spending for the day, so they don’t need to micromanage each transaction.

Try setting a daily budget before you leave your hotel, then trust yourself to stay within it without constant calculation.

4) Photographing every meal before eating it

This one surprised me when a client mentioned it. She’d been on a group trip where one couple photographed every single plate of food, even the basic continental breakfast.

Now, I’m not talking about capturing a beautiful meal at a special restaurant. That makes sense. I’m talking about photographing your Tuesday lunch sandwich with the same intensity as a Michelin-star tasting menu.

Here’s why it reads a certain way: it suggests that dining out is so rare and special that even ordinary meals need to be documented. Wealthier travelers photograph experiences, views, and people. They photograph exceptional food. But everyday meals don’t typically make the album because dining out is routine for them, not remarkable.

Ask yourself before you snap that photo: “Is this truly special, or am I just excited to be eating out?”

5) Wearing obvious tourist gear everywhere

Fanny packs, matching family t-shirts with the destination printed on them, giant cameras around your neck, cargo shorts with eight pockets. I’ve seen it all, and I’ve worn some of it.

The issue isn’t comfort or practicality. It’s that this gear essentially announces, “I don’t travel often, and I’m not sure how to blend in.”

I learned this during a workshop I led in Montreal. The locals could spot the occasional tourists immediately, and they treated them differently, more transactional, less warm. Not out of snobbery, but because the tourists had essentially put up a barrier with their presentation.

People who travel regularly tend to dress similarly to how they’d dress at home, maybe with one practical concession like comfortable walking shoes. They don’t announce their tourist status because they’re comfortable being temporary residents of a place rather than obvious outsiders.

6) Visiting only the free attractions

I get it. Admission fees add up fast. During my early practice years, when money was tight, I’d plan entire trips around free walking tours and parks.

But here’s what happened on one trip to Portland: we skipped the Japanese Garden because it had an entrance fee, but we spent two hours wandering around the free waterfront instead. Later, we met another couple who raved about the garden, and I realized we’d missed something meaningful to save twelve dollars.

Wealthier travelers make choices based on value and interest, not just price. They’ll skip expensive attractions that don’t interest them, but they won’t automatically exclude everything with an admission fee.

The key is being selective rather than automatically eliminating paid experiences. Maybe you do three free things and one paid experience that really matters to you. That’s different from a rigid rule of “nothing that costs money.”

7) Haggling aggressively over small amounts

In markets where haggling is expected, negotiation is part of the culture and totally appropriate. But I’ve watched tourists haggle with desperate intensity over a dollar or two in places where negotiating isn’t customary, or push so hard that the vendor looks uncomfortable.

A client once told me about a travel companion who spent twenty minutes negotiating over a five-dollar scarf. She finally walked away “on principle,” proud of herself for not overpaying. But my client felt embarrassed because the vendor clearly needed the sale more than they needed the five dollars.

Financial security gives you the privilege of generosity. When you have enough, you don’t need to squeeze every transaction. You can pay a fair price without feeling like you’re being taken advantage of.

This doesn’t mean being careless with money. It means recognizing when the amount in question is significant to you versus when it’s actually more valuable to the other person.

8) Staying exclusively in the cheapest accommodations far from everything

I used to book hotels based purely on price, which meant staying thirty minutes outside the city center to save twenty bucks a night. Then I’d spend that savings, and more, on transportation to get anywhere interesting.

But here’s what I finally understood: location is an experience multiplier. Being walkable to restaurants, culture, and local life transforms a trip.

Wealthier travelers often spend more on accommodation precisely because they understand this math. They’d rather spend less on souvenirs and more on being centrally located. They see the hotel as a base of operations, not just a place to sleep.

You don’t need luxury hotels. But consider whether saving money on location is actually costing you time, energy, and authentic experiences.

9) Over-planning every minute to maximize value

I learned this one the hard way. I once created a spreadsheet for a long weekend trip that had us scheduled in thirty-minute increments. We had to see everything, do everything, maximize every moment because we’d “paid so much to be here.”

We came home exhausted.

A friend who travels frequently for both work and pleasure once told me, “The best part of any trip is usually the unplanned afternoon when you just wander.”

People with more resources understand that spaciousness is a luxury. They build in downtime. They’re okay “wasting” an afternoon at a cafe because the trip isn’t about extracting maximum value from every dollar spent. It’s about the overall experience.

When you’re frantically rushing from sight to sight, it signals that you’re trying to justify the expense rather than simply enjoying being somewhere different.

10) Talking constantly about how much everything costs

“Can you believe they charge six dollars for coffee here?” “This museum ticket is ridiculous.” “We could eat for a week at home for what this meal costs.”

I caught myself doing this throughout that Barcelona trip. Every expense became a comparison, a commentary, a mild complaint.

A mentor pointed out to me years ago that constant price commentary, especially negative, tells everyone around you that you’re financially uncomfortable. It’s a form of anxious processing that happens out loud.

Wealthier travelers absorb costs more quietly. If something feels overpriced, they either skip it without comment or they decide it’s worth it and enjoy it fully. They don’t need to justify their choices to others by explaining the financial calculation.

Try this: before you leave for your trip, decide what you’re willing to spend. Then while you’re there, trust that decision and stop re-litigating every purchase.

Final thoughts

None of these behaviors are inherently wrong or shameful. Many of them come from legitimate financial constraints and smart planning.

But if you’re hoping to navigate different social spaces or simply feel more confident while traveling, it helps to understand how these patterns are perceived.

The goal isn’t to pretend you have more money than you do. It’s to travel with the confidence and ease that comes from being intentional about your choices rather than reactive to every price tag.

Through years of working with clients on communication and self-presentation, I’ve learned that small shifts in behavior can significantly change how others perceive and interact with you. And more importantly, they can change how you perceive yourself.

Your next trip doesn’t have to be expensive to feel abundant. It just has to be approached with a mindset of sufficiency rather than scarcity.

What would change if you gave yourself permission to be a traveler rather than just a tourist trying to extract maximum value?