By Tom Barlow | Founder of Candour Investments
A curious thing happens when watching Your Friends and Neighbors on Apple TV. One minute, you’re chuckling at the diamond-studded kitty collars hand-stitched by Cartier itself, or the handbag collections that have an insurance policy for the insurance policy.
But before long – around two episodes in – something starts to shift. The laughter may lose its lightness as your thoughts drift to an uneasy space of relatability.
Whilst you might never have imported sand from the Maldivian shores to line your children’s sensory playroom, you recognise the behavioural pattern.
It’s satire, of course. A glossy takedown of the modern elite who have everything money can buy – and a mild anxiety rash to go with it.
But it raises an uncomfortable question: how many of us are quietly living outside our means – not out of necessity, but out of aspiration?
In the world of finance, we call it “lifestyle creep”. In real life, it often looks like your neighbour’s new sports car, your friend’s extravagantly generous birthday bash, or your own spontaneous decision to buy that bottle of wine that costs more than the bar fridge that holds it.
Wealth, as it turns out, doesn’t guarantee a sense of lasting satisfaction. I’ve seen it create just as much stress and tension as it was meant to relieve.
The Cult of Appearances
We live in a culture that rewards visibility. It’s not enough to be financially secure – you must look like you are. The impressive car. The heavily-curated home. The celebrity-endorsed dog bowl adorned with Swarovski crystals.
Unfortunately, appearances are expensive. And more often than not, they’re funded not by wealth, but by insecurity.
Admittedly, I drive a modest car and will sometimes wear Christmas socks in May. So I understand if I seem poorly qualified to comment on luxury. But I love a well-designed chair or a swanky holiday as much as the next person. I’ve just learned to question the quiet epidemic of financial self-sabotage in the name of social optics.
In my role as investment manager, I have regularly encountered various versions of this story: clients who earn more than enough to live very comfortably, but somehow find themselves in a financial squeeze because their spending has ballooned to outpace their income.
After all, it’s not income that builds wealth – it’s what you don’t spend.
A Stoic’s Guide to Wealth
At Candour, our investment philosophy is grounded in something you won’t often hear in financial marketing: values.
No champagne fountains. No magical promises of 30% growth. No portfolios tailored for humblebrags over a slow-cooked lamb dinner party.
Instead, we believe in the unglamorous work of staying the course, thinking long-term, and refusing to be ruled by FOMO.
It’s an approach rooted in stoic philosophy – that ancient, annoyingly wise school of thought that reminds us to focus on what we can control – and let go of the rest.
In practical terms, this means:
- Spending less than you earn.
- Investing consistently, not reactively.
- Avoiding the dopamine hit of short-term indulgence for the much less exciting – but infinitely more powerful – act of compounding over time.
You sadly won’t get applause for this approach at that dinner party. But you will sleep better.
Living from the Inside Out
Your Friends and Neighbors might sting a little because it pokes at something real:
How easily we confuse the trappings of wealth with the experience of security.
True financial peace rarely lives where comparison does – it comes from aligning your finances with your values, not your vices.
This strategy is often not outwardly impressive. But just because it’s less visible doesn’t mean it’s not valuable.
I’d suggest starting with a single question:
How do I want my money to make me feel?
My guess is one or all of these words might surface in your answer:
Secure
Free
Abundant
Unburdened
Generous
Adventurous
You don’t need an eight-figure portfolio to feel abundant. You just need clarity. And the courage to quieten your inner not-enoughness.
So, the next time your friend installs a cryotherapy chamber in his wine cellar and a Japanese toilet with Chanel no. 5-infused toilet water – be happy for him. You can feel the flicker of FOMO and still choose to keep your balance relative to your values.
It’s the less shiny moves that compound quietly.
Over years, not months.
With patience, not panic.
And with wisdom, not a Wi-Fi-enabled canary cage with underfloor heating.
