The final instalment of our lexicographical endeavour, a dictionary for the super-wealthy
Xanadu: You all know the words: ‘In Xanadu did Kubla Khan/ A stately pleasure-dome decree,’ and so on. Coleridge’s poem has two resonances for HNWs:
First, who knows more about pleasure-domes than the wealthy? Your villa in Greece, your pimped pied à terre in Paris or your bunga-bunga pad fit for Berlusconi: if the pleasure-dome’s rocking, don’t come a-knocking.
Second, Coleridge dreamt the poem after taking opium, and HNWs have found consistent inspiration in the poppy.
Xenophobe: Since London is the global capital for HNWs, you can’t afford to be a xenophobe in W1. With Russians, Arabs, Chinese, plenty of Europeans and anyone fleeing civil war, conflict or even plain old tax rocking up in Berkeley Square, we should tell xenophobes to go back where they came from.
Yacht: The HNW world is now divided into the Haves and the Have-Yachts. If yours isn’t too big to dock, with a crew that would comfortably service the Savoy, you’re not doing it right. See also: Abramovich, Roman.
Yes-men: These are the most dangerous kind of men to have around you. They only tell you what you want to hear, never contradicting your poor decisions or suggesting better alternatives. Yes?
Youth, Quest for Eternal: With the decline of religion, a new strain of self-worshipping secularism has arisen. In the pursuit of beauty, people will submit themselves to all kinds of torture: Botox injections in the forehead, collagen pumped into the lips, bags under the eye pinched, bones shaved for cleaner lines, the face unplugged and dragged back to meet the neck — and that’s just the head. Just remember: it’s what’s outside that counts. See also: Morality.
Yuppies: What you were in the Eighties.
Zero: The number of wealth managers who wear rubber-soled shoes. The number of wealth managers who know the words to One Direction’s That’s What Makes You Beautiful. The number of wealth managers who have been to any end of a Tube line. And so on.
Zombie Banks: These banks roam the earth, eating the brains of the brightest in the land, sucking up the vitality of the country. We need a hero! Luckily, there is such a man among us: John Redwood MP. Armed with a pump-action shotgun and a copy of Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom, he’ll kick zombie-bank ass.
Zurich: Like Geneva, but more fun.
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