These young high-earners invest their money for the future

Press, 18 January 1986, Page 14

These young high-earners invest their money for the future

Showing off is out for today's young, super-rich tycoons. MICHELLE JAFFE discovers that their attitude to wealth in the 1980 s is very conservative.

Models have always been able to command huge salaries if their faces fit the moment. Twenty-year-old Yasmin is no exception.

Within nine months of modelling, she took the United States by storm, and was signed up for a coveted Vidal Sassoon contract. She earned $28,250 in one day, and by the end of her first year made about $282,600. The transition from schoolgirl to High Earner (her income is roughly three times what the British Prime Minister, Mrs Thatcher, earns), could make even the most restrained of us rush out and blow a fortune on ballgowns and baubles.

Yasmin, coolly says: “Although money has given me the freedom to buy what I want, I combat the urge to spend by working all the time, and I avoid having credit cards.

“I live modestly because I want to work up to enjoying the better things of life.”

serve what I can. I’m look ing for a flat (around $198,000), as you always make money on property, and I’d far rather invest for the future than fritter it away on extravagant living.” Sam Mac Knight, aged 30, a freelance hairdresser, working in America and earning around $282,600 a year, puts it in a nutshell: “Getting suites at Claridges and throwing wild parties are things of the past. Nowadays, peoples’ homes, clothes, and lifestyles are pared down, because life is hard and fast, and there is no time for frills. “Unlike the sixties or seventies, drink and drugs are unfashionable — the trend today is to be sensible, to buy property, and to plan ahead, so that you can survive when you are no longer flavour of the month. “Everyone is more realistic now. We all know it may not last, and if you’ve fought for what you’ve got, you don’t want to lose it.”

to buy an apartment in New York, and a larger $170,000 to $200,000 flat in England. “I suppose wanting two homes is my greatest indulgence — I fly back here at every opportunity, but second-class, of course!” Bricks and mortar appear to be the acceptable status symbol, but riot the rambling Tudor mansions that the whizz kids of a generation ago might have chosen. Today’s lot go for sensible flats, or houses in respectable areas. Linda Cantello, a 23-year-old freelance make-up artist, who went to America with Sam Mac Knight to chance her fortunes, and also commands around $280,000 a year, has bought a two-bedroom Georgian flat in North London, rather than a larger, more showy place. “The thought of being labelled ‘nouveau riche’ really grates on me. Its so dated to live in a way that obviously classifies you, with typical status symbols like mink coats, Louis Vuit-

Britain’s new-age entrepreneurs are too busy working to be flash

Not surprisingly, her lifestyle doesn’t give much away about her income. She rents a flat for $l4O a week, doesn’t buy many clothes, and feels most comfortable in army surplus gear. Her only signs of affluence include a few outfits from Joseph, Jean-Paul Gaultier, and Yamamoto, and a $565 sliver of Cartier gold, worn around her little finger.

She doesn’t own a stereo, only occasionally goes to restaurants like Langan’s, and hasn’t had time to have holidays. “My greatest extravagance is taking taxis everywhere,” she says. But she claims to enjoy her money. “Earning a lot gives a wonderful sense of stability and security. In the end, I’m working for a peaceful life without any pressures. Modelling is a short career, so it makes sense to con-

Sam, who three years ago, borrowed $l7OO to seek work in the United States landed a top magazine booking the day after he arrived. Since then he hasn’t looked back.

Apart from renting an expensive New York apartment ($736 a week), and wearing an antique gold Rolex watch, there is little about Sam that indicates his thousands. He goes around in casual, jeans-type clothes, drives a Volkswagen Rabbit in the States, a beaten up VW convertible when in England, and frequently greasy spoon cafes, or cheap Chinese joints. “The more money I have, the more I hate spending it,” admits Sam. “Previously, if I had $5O in my pocket, I’d blow it on a night out. Now, if I’ve got $5OOO in my pocket, I can’t bear to part with it! Right now, I’m saving up. I want

ton luggage, and flashy cars.”

Her main outward symbol of wealth has been to buy a boat.

“Some friends and I have been renting a lakeside summer-house outside New York. One day, I went to the local shop to buy some water-skis, but came out with" a speedboat!” She quickly adds that she bought it as an investment, and that it is already worth more. “I am conscious that it is easy to lose your grip i on what money means. When you earn a few thousand pounds in a day, it’s tempting to blow it on expensive nonsense. “All round me, I see people who’ve done that, and now they’re on their beam end. I’m determined to conserve what I’ve got, which is why I still travel second class, go to cheap restaurants more than

flashy ones, and cycle around everywhere to save on taxis.”

Twenty-seven-year-old Steve Woolley, with his long pig-tail, jeans, and quiet manner, looks more like the cinema usher that he started out as 10 years ago, than one of the most up-and-coming film entrepreneurs in Britain. Steve not only.owns the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross, (a cult film centre), but is a partner in Palace Productions, a very successful video and film organisation.

They distribute sub-titled or independent films on video, such as “Mephisto,” “Diva,” “Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence.”

This policy has paid off so well, that the company is now making general release films, including “The Company of Wolves” and “Absolute Beginners.”

Steve, who clears well over $141,300 a year lives very modestly. He owns a $113,000 flat, doesn’t drive (but bought the back half of a Mini with his girlfriend), eats out at cheap local restaurants, and rarely has holidays.

“The only difference money has made is that I no longer worry about bills. I don’t spend a lot on clothes, but if I see something I like, I might buy three suits and ten shirts in one go. Johnsons in Kensington Market is still my favourite place for suits.

“I’m not very interested in possessions. The company

is my security, and I’m far keener to make or release films/videos than to own a yacht. When it comes to film-making, the best results are produced through everyone mucking in together. “I feel it would be coun-ter-productive to set myself apart. If you gad around in a Rolls Royce, with a diamond in your collar, you become a target for people to use.”

Work is crucial to these New-Age Entrepreneurs. They all admit to having a 100 per cent commitment. None harbours any desires for an early retirement, or a cushioned existence in tax exile.

“To create a demand for your own style of work gives more kudos than any amount of possessions,” says Gary Mays’ aged 27, a management sciences' graduate

who four years ago started Personal Software Systems, a computer company now turning over more than $2.8 million a year. “My hobby is the business, and money is my least important consideration. I like being comfortable, and not having to worry about the: mortgage, but the real thrill comes from getting deals, and from working for yourself.” Like the others, Gary has invested in property. He and his wife live in a $lOO,OOO flat in Coventry, but he has also bought two terraced houses, which he rents out to students. “I have socialist tendencies, which conflict to some extent with what I do, but I still try to rationalise all expenditure. I never travel first class, and think it’s absolutely absurd to spend a thousand pounds on a watch, or a designer suit.

Big spenders are a dying breed