Maggie's Farm

You have your house in Kensington, a flat in Manhattan, get-aways in the Cotswolds, Scotland and Ibiza. Your kids all have trust funds, your first wife is set up very nicely, you have your collection of clubs and art. You have hot- and cold-running help and a cute, sexy personal assistant. You have your favorite charities for world peace and world health. You have a million friends. You do not have a yacht because you get seasick.

Still, your spare cash is burning a hole in your pocket. In a post-austerity UK you need advice from The Financial Times on How To Spend It.

No deep psycho-social comment needed from me. All I can say is that this is not the Yankee Way, not the Yankee Code. I am a live-and-let-live, to-each-his-own guy, but a $35,000 Audemars Piguet gives me a momentary spiritual depression.

nb: I want everybody to be as rich in money, or in life, or in love, or in self-respect, or in fun and diversion, or in relation to God, as they desire. I really don't care too much what others do. Life is brief, so true to myself is second highest on my list. True to my realest instinctual self would be ugly indeed.