Money talks but, all too often, with a giveaway accent. While the refined, public-schooled tones of those born into wealth are synonymous with old money and generations of entitlement, the rougher, less-polished speech of those whose fortunes were more recently made betray the speaker as someone for whom prosperity is an awkward mantle, someone still transitioning from a have-not to a most-definitely-have.

Typically, these more recently-monied men and women are dismissed as the ‘nouveau riche’ or, more disparagingly still, ‘the nouveaus’. It is a term freely bandied by those with generations of family wealth behind them, along with whispered critiques of the fashion faux pas and errors in elementary etiquette of those whose style and manners remain at a far lower level than their bank balances.

Despite its currency, the concept of mocking the suddenly affluent goes back a long way. The Ancient Romans, for instance, coined the term ‘novus homo’ (literally ‘the new man’) as a way of differentiating between those of a noble lineage and those who made their fortune as merchants or something equally grubby. For better or worse, it’s a form of social stratification that has endured over countless centuries and one that has gained fresh impetus in the Digital Age. Such transgressions, though, are not restricted to the cyber-realm, with the sheer volume of their cash-loaded lifestyles spilling on to real life. But how to detect them and how to avoid being inadvertently perceived as one of their number? Well, there are five giveaway signs to bear in mind…

Bling it on…

One of the first indicators that an acquaintance has recently skipped several pay grades and is now a debutante member of the monied classes is their sudden acquisition of an array of designer accessories, inevitably coupled with an inability to flaunt them judiciously. We’re not talking a discreet Bulgari Serpenti bag or an occasional whiff of Coco Chanel here. No, the said recently-minted mate will instead invest in a head-to-toe haute couture makeover, complete with designer outfits, expensive imported footwear and limited-edition personal luggage. Some of their ensembles may even match.

Sassy on social media…

Far from sated by merely flaunting their fecund finances to those in immediate proximity, such novice nouveaus will inevitably chronicle every minute of their willfully extravagant existence on every possible social media feed. They’ll Instagram their tastelessly-indulgent décor, Facebook their foreign shopping sprees and WeChat a wanton night where the wine bill alone might have bankrupted one of the world’s poorer nations. When you have that much lucre lurking in your current, after all, how could anything really be fun if it’s not instantly shared with your 200,000 online followers? The fact that every single one of them hates you and your vapid lifestyle is, of course, wholly immaterial.

Car-zy rich…

Nothing says recently-acquainted-with-riches more than investing in an inappropriately expensive car. Ideally, it should be a day-glo limited edition, with a dashboard that has enough digital enhancements to shame a mid-moon launch Mission Control. While its spec – beyond its cost – is largely irrelevant, its chassis hue is of essential importance. Ideally, it should boast a bubblegum pink or canary yellow finish as, after all, it’s a vehicle that wasn’t purchased to efficiently convey you from point A to point B. No, its sole role is to make your wealth unmissable to any fellow motorist or sped-past pedestrian. To emphasize just how much cash you have to splash on fripperies, it’s also best to invest in personalised number plates, with the faux cool ones seemingly being the popular picks. For research purposes only, we have unearthed a few prime examples from the Internet – C13VER, PL4Y B8Y, LADY 55, B0NK3RZ. Not only will such a distinctive plate ensure your motor is easily distinguishable once parked, it will also pretty much guarantee that, every time you return to it, it has been well and truly keyed.

High-flying…

Once you have your bright green Bugatti, then what next? In this case, the only way is up, with a private jet being the mark of a true high-flier. Alternatively, you could opt for a super-yacht. Or why not spoil yourself and have both? In truth, any self-respecting new-age billionaire has a fleet of luxury vehicles – cars, jets, yachts – at their beck and call as highly-visual means of establishing their status. Admittedly, they also come in useful when transiting to a private island or swiftly moving on, should the tax authorities come prowling. Wherever their destination, however, you can be sure that even in the most forsaken of wildernesses or on an icy plain stretching out beyond the horizon, you can be fairly sure that the trappings of luxury will not have been left behind. So, do your best to keep a straight face when any newly-affluent acquaintance ‘shares’ the difficulty of getting a really good pedicure when mid-Gobi.

OTT parties…

Taking their cue from The Great Gatsby playbook, a fabulously-over extravagant party is every newly-minted millionaire’s favoured means of announcing their ascension to wadded-walletdom. Indeed, once having arrived at such an enviable position, a flash-the-cash bash is obligatory when marking even the most mundane of milestones. Dog’s 100th day and still not fallen victim to one of the 4WDs? That’s a marquee for 120 close chums and bespoke bone-shaped canapés all-round. 10 years since the Financial Tsunami ravaged the global banking system? Gathering of 200 or so valued colleagues on a fleet of swan-shaped gondolas, dress code: monetarily distressed. No event is too trivial to pass up a chance to party, while each shindig, of course, has to be far more lavish than its predecessor. Putting being judgemental aside for the briefest of moments, it has to be said that the one upside of someone in your social circle suddenly finding stratospheric success is that there’s a fair to middling chance that you’ll instantly find yourself invited to a better class of parties. And, darlings, those foie gras profiteroles are just to die for…

Text: Suchetana Mukhopadhyay