Converse asked me recently what money memories I have from my childhood and what advice I remember being given. I don’t have a single clear memory of specific advice. What I do have is an ongoing memory of always wanting to know how people who appeared to be rich got rich.

“How do people afford this?”

When I was a child, around the age of 10 I started asking about what big things cost and how people could afford them. I would soon be moving to secondary school, which seemed like a huge and vital step towards becoming a grown up. From my childish perspective it seemed that paying taxes and complaining about bills was just around the corner. So I started paying more attention to how much big things cost, not just things I wanted to buy now (sweets, toys, magazines) but big grown up things (cars, houses, holidays).

My parents weren’t badly off, but it always seemed like most other families like my cousins and my friends as school had a lot of things my parents said we couldn’t afford. New cars compared to our second-hand ones, big detached houses in cul-de-sacs, holidays that included words like safari, après-ski and all inclusive. I’d always known that this was because these families had more money than us, but now I wanted to know why.  I wasn’t ungrateful for what my parents provided, but I could see that there was better out there and I wanted to know the steps towards an adult life that included holidays that you flew to rather than drove to and a home where when something broke you replaced it immediately rather than going without for months while money was saved up.

The answers I received were largely frustrating. They’re very lucky. They are very clever. They have a job that pays them lots of money. That third option seemed to be the key. Luck is great but even then I knew they weren’t all lottery winners. And cleverness is great but how do you turn that into a big house and a new car? You find a job that pays you for your cleverness.

My knowledge of well-paying jobs was the same as most children. Who gets paid a lot? Doctors. Who else? Successful businessmen. The boss. But we didn’t know any doctors. We didn’t really know any business owners either or anyone I’d heard described as a boss. I realise now that’s because no one would use that word. What job do you do? I’m a boss. Bosses use confusing combinations of titles like regional sales director or senior management consultant.

As I got much older and did go out into the world and find a job, I understand the reason for my parents vague and unsatisfying answers. They didn’t know. Some people were much more well-off than us, and my parents weren’t entirely sure how that happened, they assumed it was a combination of luck, cleverness and large salaries, and maybe it mostly was. But I now I’m in a position where I can fly business class to exotic locations. I live in a city centre where driving is impractical and detached houses are for billionaires, but I do have a nice apartment with a sea view and a pool and a clubhouse with more facilities than I’ll ever realistically use. Having a good salary helps, but spending habits are more important.

I also have a better understanding that the appearance of wealth doesn’t necessarily   equate to healthy bank accounts and security. My parents and adults their age who I’ve known since childhood are approaching, or have reached retirement. I see now that some of those people are in situations where they will need to continue to work well into their late sixties. Others had to dramatically alter their lifestyles; that new car, it turned out, was a company car that went with the job. The house needed to be downsized because the mortgaged still wasn’t paid off as they retired. In some ways it seems like they’ve done well – they enjoyed these things for years and only have to give them up in retirement. However, giving them up doesn’t look easy. Lifestyle inflation is a real thing and it’s not an easy adjustment to make. There also seems to be a sense on entitlement that comes with owning these things (or appearing to own these things for so long), so that by the end they feel like they are owed them. Also, when someone’s places importance on having nice, expensive things, they seem to start to really, really care about them, so that giving up a company car seems like a personal affront, an insult, a massive step down.

It’s led me to conclude 3 things:

• Just because someone appears to own something, doesn’t mean they actually do.
• Don’t get attached to, or measure your worth by your material possessions.
• It’s not easy to go backwards when you’re accustomed to something, so take your time, you’ll get there when you get there, don’t be in a rush to inflate your lifestyle before you can afford it.