I've always been a big believer in spending money one has legitimately earned through hard toil. For the larger costs, such as houses, school fees and cars, I've irrationally presumed the money would simply appear, or that I'd be able to sell one child into slavery in order to fund the other through school. Alas, as I look into the eyes of my children, my heart sinks. Neither would make much on the open market; one is too fat and the other has an attitude problem.
As ever, the need to invest long term has come at the most economically inopportune moment. With inflation inflating and my lifelong distrust of 'financial service providers' truly vindicated, neither the underside of my mattress nor some investment fund seem wise locations for my spare pennies. Tangible investments such as housing are all well and good, but the property market is in a state flux, and the amount of paperwork associated with purchasing and owning a second property, particularly to rent out, is like the mother-in-law at Christmas: terrifying yet entirely unavoidable.
After losing the argument with Mrs Business Lifer about how saving is pointless and the only alternative is to spend the lot on a new media room, I have been forced to look elsewhere.
A colleague recently suggested investing in wine in bond, thus before tax has been paid, reducing the initial cost. I was less keen, for who knows what the tax on alcohol will be in a decade, or if it will still be legal? Secondly, spending that much on wine I'm not allowed to drink doesn't sit well with me.
A tennis chum then suggested I invest in his latest new venture involving some kind of biochemistry invention. However, as far as I could gather, my input would just ensure he had a salary for the next two years regardless of the success or failure of his potions. Furthermore, I work in IT primarily because I failed chemistry at school — I know absolutely nothing about it and glazed over when he attempted to explain. As a consequence, I have no idea if he is inspired or impaired. There was also very little in the way of collateral – his kid is just as fat as mine and his ten-year-old VW Passat doesn't appeal. All I do know is that he is marginally better at cheating at tennis than I am.
I have a solution of which I am extremely proud: classic car investment. I've been doing some digging and the best bet seems to be to pick something in A1 condition pre-1971. There's no road tax, the insurance is pretty cheap because they assume you're an old man with a beard who never exceeds 25mph and, best of all, there's no capital gains or inheritance tax. Furthermore, unlike wine in bond or hedges in Canary Wharf, you can actually enjoy the investment. Indeed, even Mrs Business Lifer seems to approve of my new Allard.
Our entrepreneurial correspondent travels the world in search of business, soft beds and good breakfasts.
blog comments powered by
