59-year-old BBC radio host Richard Coles makes more business in a week than he does in a year as a pastor for the Church of England.
Coles, who rose to fame as a member of the 1980s pop band The Communards, once had so little money he couldn’t afford to buy groceries.
His book about the aftermath of the death of his partner David, The Madness Of Grief: A Memory of Love and Loss, has been published.
Top Notes: Richard got £ 60,000 when he signed a recording deal
What did your parents teach you about money?
I come from a family of Midlands shoe manufacturers who made a fortune with industrialization. My dad was flamboyant and loved to spend money, having a good time and going to restaurants.
I must have inherited that from him. At the same time, my parents thought debt was immoral. They would never spend money that they didn’t have. Some of this has affected me as well.
My father started out in the army he loved – and then went into the family business he was never really suited to. We have had some pleasant years in which business has flourished. I don’t remember ever having to think about money. My siblings and I all went to public schools and if we wanted something, it was just made available.
But in the 1970s production collapsed and the shoe store was taken away. My father had to sell the family business when I was a teenager and get a job for someone else.
Suddenly he could no longer afford my younger brother’s school fees and was taken out of public school. I think my father really suffered a loss of status as a result.
How has that affected your attitude towards money?
I have taken great care to ensure that I can always take care of myself and my loved ones. I also decided to do something completely different from previous generations of my family.
I made a conscious effort to live a life that wasn’t about materialism or making money. But surprise, surprise, when I look back, I see more of the Midlands manufacturer in me than I thought because I’ve always made a living and never had any debts. Somewhere deep down I know the value of a pound.
Have you ever struggled to make ends meet?
Yes, I fled to London when I was 18 because I was gay. I was skin for about four years. I lived in a filthy apartment in King’s Cross and signed on the dole. Sometimes I didn’t have any money at all. I remember walking past phone booths and always checking the coin return to see if it was 10 pence.
There were times when I didn’t have enough money to eat, so I went without food. But I was in a band called The Communards, and in 1985 my life changed dramatically when I signed a recording deal. They gave me a check for £ 60,000. That was an unimaginable wealth at the time.
Richard with Jimmy Somerville in The Communards
How did life change when you became a pop star?
The first thing I did was buy a grand piano. I moved it to my damp little bedroom, where I slept on a mattress on the floor. After that, I was busy touring and lost control of my life.
I remember my accountant saying I had to buy a house, so I did: a two-bedroom Victorian apartment in Kilburn, northwest London for £ 60,000. Then he said I had to buy a house, so I bought one that I had never seen before – someone faxed me about it. It was unreal.
Have you ever been paid stupid money?
Yes. Sometimes I earn more in a week than in a year as a pastor. I’ve worked a lot with diversity in city law firms.
What was the best year of your financial life?
It was 1988 – the Communards were selling a lot of records. I have no idea how much I made, but I remember leaving a check for £ 400,000 in the bank. I was pretty scruffy so the cashier’s mouth caught my eye. I had such an odd payday.
What’s the most expensive thing you bought for fun?
It was a £ 50,000 vacation in the south of France. I rented a house for the summer in the early 1990s and invited many friends to stay. I don’t have the money for it these days – because I spent everything like an idiot back then.
What’s your biggest money mistake?
I managed to be the only person in the world who didn’t make money living in London in the 1980s. I bought a house in Islington for £ 160,000 when the market was high, sold it when the market was low, and broke even. According to Rightmove, this house is worth roughly £ 1.5 million.
Are you saving for a pension?
Yes. Thanks to my manager, I started saving in my mid-twenties. She just showed me the paperwork without explaining what it was – and I signed it. If she had told me I would have said, “Ha, a pension, what nonsense.”
My pension advisor now says I couldn’t have done better. I’ve had the benefit of years of investment growth, but also guaranteed annuities that are now much more difficult to come by. I do not invest in the stock market outside of my pension. I prefer to invest in art. I only buy things I like, but I’ve done well over the years.
Do you own a property?
Yes, my home, a thatched four bedroom cottage on a Northamptonshire estate that I bought in 1992. I’d rather not say how much it’s worth, but it has probably quadrupled since I bought it.
What is the only luxury you indulge in?
I like a dash of Penhaligon aftershave. My late partner David made me do it. He died a year ago and he was wasteful so I have a whole shelf of his ‘smells’. Sometimes when I go to bed I put on a splash of his favorite scent. It reminds me of him.
Richard likes paddling aftershaves at Penhaligon
If you were chancellor what would be the first thing you would do?
I would release funds to integrate health and social care. I find it absolutely heartbreaking how many people live in need and fear because social welfare costs have not been properly budgeted. It is a terrible judgment on our priorities as a society.
Do you donate money to charity?
Yes. I give away a tenth of my income every year. For me as a Christian it is important to do this. I also do a lot of charity work.
What’s your number one financial priority?
To have a safe and comfortable old age and to ensure that the people I care about are cared for. I think I can do it. I’m much better with money now than I was before.
Some of the links in this article may be affiliate links. If you click on it, we may receive a small commission. This helps us fund This Is Money and use it for free. We do not write articles to promote products. We do not allow any business relationship that would compromise our editorial independence.