The Perfect Barefoot Side Hustle

Scott,

I have come across a mob who are selling themselves as offering the “perfect Barefoot Side Hustle” with what they call “matched betting”. Is this is a scam? Or am I just a little too risk averse?

Jenny

Hi Jenny,

Thanks for bringing this to my attention.

I have a standing rule that I don’t Google myself, or read anything that’s said about me (good, bad or otherwise).

It keeps me (marginally) sane.

Yet what gets me all ‘Mark Latham’ is when insurance salespeople, mortgage brokers, financial planners, Bitcoin scammers, and even blokes on Tinder (!) use my name to sell their … junk.

Let me be clear: I have absolutely nothing to do with a gambling service.

Someone’s doing a hustle but it sure ain’t me!

Scott

Blow the Whistle

Hi Scott,

I’m 15 years old and do not have regular work, though I do umpire netball in the winter months, which earns me about $15 a game. I’ve just started Year 10 and will have a lot on my plate school-wise, and do not want my studies to suffer. Would you suggest I get a part-time job, or just keep up the casual netball work?

Alice

Hi Alice,

Good on you for (a) taking interest in sport, (b) earning some money out of it, and (c) emailing the Barefoot Investor for financial advice while you’re still in high school ‒ you’re awesome!

Yet I still want you to get a part-time job.

I view a part-time job as one of the most important ‘real life’ high school classes you can take.

Seriously, how else do you get the experience of selling yourself in an interview, working in a team, taking orders from a boss, and learning about setting up bank accounts, paying tax and eventually investing super?

Your parents should pay Ronnie McDonnie for the educational experience! Besides, you only need to do a few shifts a week, so it won’t interfere with your studies, and you can pare it back when you get into your final years of school.

Good luck!

Scott

Engagement Ring Going Cheap

Scott,

I am currently filing for divorce. My ex-husband rampantly cheated on me with a bunch of random women, and then had an affair with a graduate at his work. Beyond humiliating! So to my question: is there is anything sensible to do with an engagement ring once a marriage has ended, or should I just sell it for a pittance? I know you are not in the business of pawning jewellery, but I thought you may have been asked this question before. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

Tamsyn

Hi Tamsyn,

I’ve written a lot about ‘reject rings’ in the past: they’re great for the buyer … not so good for the seller.

If you’re getting divorced the ring could form part of the settlement. However, it’ll be valued at its resale price, not it’s initial purchase price or what it’s insured for.

So here’s what I’d do:

First, I’d talk to your ex-husband and explain that, while he’s hurt you deeply, there’s a part of you that will always cherish your relationship. And, because of the history you have, you’d like to keep the engagement ring as a memento of what has been a major part of your life.

Second, I’d get him to agree to let you keep the engagement ring from the settlement pool ‒ because of its sentimental value.

And then?

Then you hock the bloody thing for whatever you can get, and spend the money on two things:

(a) A very good lawyer

(b) An ‘eat, pray, love’ holiday.

After all, who needs a memento of this mongrel?

Scott

Let me tell you about the smartest 23-year-old woman I know:

Her name is Samantha, and she’s worked out a way to get a private 30-minute financial strategy session with me every single month. How much does she pay me?

Nutt’n.

In fact, I pay her $40!

Then again, she does wield sharp scissors and often holds a razor to my throat (so I’m the very definition of a captive audience).

Over the past few years I’ve heard about her on-again, off-again, on-again boyfriend (it’s my version of MAFS … each month I get a new episode). Yet over the past 12 months they’ve gotten engaged, and are now looking to buy.

She put in my lap a brochure from a new development on the ‘fringe’ of Melbourne.

“This joint looks more like the back of the mullet than the fringe”, I quipped (as she snipped dangerously close to my ear). “How much are you looking to spend?”

“We’re looking at places around $450,000, and we’ve saved up $50,000”, she said.

“That’s a great start, but not enough.”

“Well, we’ve already got pre-approval from the ANZ!” she countered.

“Did you have to submit payslips or any other documentation?” I asked.“Er … no.”

That, I explained, is the equivalent of a swipe right on Tinder: you’re not getting married, you’re simply in the ‘maybe’ pile. So I challenged her to spend the next month playing the field, and she dutifully went to two banks and a broker.

The response? “Yes ... no … and maybe."

Still, Samantha is in a rush, and she wants me to wave my magic wand and help her buy as soon as possible, “while prices are low.”

But here’s the interesting thing:

At 23, she has absolutely no concept of an economic downturn. In fact, even her parents, who are in their early forties, have never experienced a recession in their adult lives.

Let’s put that in perspective:

In the 1991 recession, Aussie property prices had their longest fall on record: 20 months of decline.

So how does that compare to today?

Well, nationally prices peaked in September 2017, which means they’ve been falling for 17 months.

However, I’d argue that this slump is only getting started, for three reasons:

First, the Reserve Bank suggests there are almost $500 billion in interest-only loans that are due to be reset to principal-and-interest in the next five years, which their analysis suggests will cost the typical borrower $7,000 more a year.

Second, interest rates are already at historical lows, so small rate cuts add up to only small repayment savings. And besides, it’s unlikely the banks will pass on the full rate cuts.

Finally, the upcoming federal election will likely bring a new government, and with it changes to negative gearing and capital gains tax (CGT).

As a result of all these factors, banks are being very cautious with their lending … and it’s the banks that ultimately control property prices, based on their willingness to lend.

Plenty of people who bought in the past two years are copping a buzzcut. That’s why my advice to Samantha -- and anyone else with less than a 20 per cent deposit -- is simple: there’s no rush!

Tread Your Own Path!

Confessions of an Afterpay Junkie

Dear Barefoot,

As someone who fell down the Afterpay rabbit hole and got stuck in a cycle for three years, I completely agree with what you are saying. I added up every single purchase I had made and found I had spent a disgusting $19,338.39 since April 2016! Seeing that figure was both humiliating and eye-opening. I realised I have a problem, so I have sent Afterpay an email to block any further transactions and to close my account when the current orders are paid off. I am gutted and ashamed that I have thrown away so much money ‒ I look around and cannot even tell you where it went. Afterpay is toxic.

Anna

Hi Anna,

Let’s look at the bright side: at least you didn’t do use a credit card.

I deal with shopaholics all the time, and their biggest bill is interest to the bank. However, what it sounds like you’re saying is that AfterPay got you into a merry-go-round of misery. At least you didn’t graduate from the weed to the heroin.

As I’ve said before, maybe in the future we’ll have before-and-after photos like they do with meth heads:

Before: This is excited Anna, aged 23, buying the cutest diamante collar for her pet pug on Afterpay.

After: This is agitated Anna, aged 24, buying dog food (for herself) with a Nimble loan.

Look, you’re never going to win if you don’t learn to stand on your own two feet and pay your own way. So good on you for getting clean!

Scott

Am I a Financial Drug Dealer?

Hi Scott,

I run a small online business with my wife. While I do not use Afterpay myself, we do offer it as a payment option for our customers. Does this make us financial ‘drug dealers’? I admit it makes me uneasy, but it has boosted our sales and I am afraid customers would turn to a competitor if we did not offer it. What would you say to merchants like us who feel stuck in the middle?

Pete

Hi Pete,

You’re right, there is a financial drug dealer here ‒ but it’s not you ‒ it’s Afterpay.

Founder Anthony Eisen told me over lunch that, after Google, Afterpay is now the biggest referrer of leads to retailers in Australia. And as a result they’ve now got a lot of retailers hooked on their drug: millions of shopping-happy millennials.

You’re currently paying Afterpay a percentage of each sale. Well, tech companies have learned a trick from drug dealers, and they have a track record of jacking up their prices once the addiction takes hold, to capture more of your margin. Google did it. Facebook did it.

Will Afterpay do it? Time will tell.

Yet one thing you should be very clear on: they are not your friend.

Scott

My experience with dumpster diving

There have been a couple of times in my career that I’ve come across a subculture.

The first was right back when I began: people who would write to me about my … feet. Yep, that’s a thing. Some people get their socks off looking at bare feet in the newspaper.

The other was a few weeks ago when I got a question from uni student Tim, who said he ‘dumpster dived’ for food.

I thought he was joking … yet little did I know that I was myself about to get binned like a bent banana.

The email responses came in like two-day-old loaves of bread:

“Dude, you don’t know what dumpster diving is? I earn $180,000 a year, and yet on my days off I go to the local Woolies bin around midnight for all the eggs, bread, pink milk (not expired), and slightly spoiled but still good fruit and veges.” (This person signed off as ‘Dumpster Diving Till I Die’, which may be tempting fate.)

As I dived into the subject, I discovered that the devotees of this movement even have a name: ‘freegans’.

Yet my favourite freegan was Benjamin, aka ‘Binjamin the Raccoon’, who wrote: “I live almost entirely out of rescued food from the bin (plus some home-grown veg). Every day, I systematically take all the food from two dumpsters and distribute it out to feed probably 20 struggling families per week, as well as bread for farmers’ livestock.”

Okay, so that’s actually pretty cool.

So this week I grabbed my five-year-old son and we went dumpster diving at the back of an inner city KFC — “It’s finger-lickin’ good, mate!”

Okay, so we didn’t do that. (My wife doesn’t allow us to eat KFC, let alone from a dumpster.)

Yet we did go on a father-son trip to Australia’s largest hunger relief not-for-profit, Foodbank, who each month help feed over 700,000 Aussies.

The reason I had my son come along was twofold: first, he loves factories, forklifts and donning high-vis vests. Yet, more importantly, it was also my first step in a long journey to making sure he doesn’t become an entitled brat.

And Foodbank is an awesome way to teach kids one of the fundamental keys to happiness: generosity.

See, the hidden crisis in this country is that one in five kids live in ‘food insecure’ households.

No, it’s true.That explains why in Victoria they are expanding the ‘Breakfast Club’ program to be in 1,000 schools.On our way to the factory I asked my son if he remembered what it feels like to be hungry.

“Yes, it’s hard to think, and I get angry because I have a sore tummy”, he said.

“Well chances are that some of your classmates arrive at school with those tummy rumbles. You can’t see it, of course, and your mates may be too embarrassed to talk about it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening”, I said.

Then I explained that he could help these kids by buying food, and having Foodbank deliver it.

It was like seeing a lightbulb go off in his little head: he got it.

Even better, he’d brought along his Give jar and proudly gave some of his pocket money.

Now that’s a subculture I’m proud to be part of.

Tread Your Own Path!

Fighting the Fire

Hi Scott,

Earlier this week I lost my rental house and most possessions in the Bunyip State Park fires. I just wanted to say that reading your book earlier this year has helped me deal with what I’m going through. I have a much more positive attitude having read your own fire story. This book helped on a different level than finances. Thank you!

Lucy

Hey Lucy,

My heart goes out to you.

For us it felt that part of our identity was lost in the fires … photos, family heirlooms, all our possessions.

What helped us was framing the experience as part of our story: we got knocked down, but that we got up again.

That’s what life is about … rising from the ashes and saying “I got this”.

You Got This.

Scott

Are Charities Ripping Us Off?

Hi Barefoot,

Do you know of any charities which do not have highly paid CEOs and numerous other well-paid staff? l would like to make a donation to charities where all the money goes to the people who need it, rather than paying managers and having only the leftovers go to actual charity. What’s your advice?

Ruby

Hi Ruby,

You need to think of it like you’re making an investment, because that’s essentially what it is.

(Instead of generating a positive financial return, you’re hopefully generating a better world.)

And when it comes to investing I’ve never once said: “I only invest in companies where the CEO and the management are paid peanuts!”

Still, while there are 2,500 companies to invest in on the stock market ... there are 56,000 registered Aussie charities! So there’s a lot of charity chaff to wade through. Here’s how I went about it when I chose a charity to support:

First, I focused my efforts on one area I was really passionate about, rather than spraying it around. For me, that was supporting people in financial hardship. For you, it will be something else. What matters is that it matters deeply to you.

Second, I researched the programs in that sector that were getting cut-through. Before I made my ‘investment’, I read through their annual reports and interviewed the senior managers: Were they switched on? Did they have a compelling vision? Did I honestly believe they had the chops to achieve their vision?

Finally, after making my ‘investment’, I have continued actively monitoring their progress, just like I do with my portfolio of shares. And I can tell you that the kick I get from supporting great people doing amazing things has been just as rewarding as my portfolio.

Scott

My Son Likes You, But He’s an Idiot

Barefoot,

My university-educated adult son read your book. It seems to have inspired him, maybe a little too much. I have had to sit down and set him straight on what you got wrong in your book, namely your blind faith in, as you call it, ‘low-cost index funds’. This is terrible advice! It is not hard to find professional fund managers who consistently outperform the indexes, and you are doing a disservice to your readers by not highlighting that. As I explained to my son, you are committing them to a lifetime of mediocrity!

David

Hi David,

Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to your email ‒ I’ve been saving this one up.

See, ratings agency Standard and Poor’s have a scoreboard that tracks how professional fund managers in Australia perform against a basic index tracker fund, and this week they released the results for 2018.

(Drum roll.)

Last year 87% of actively managed Aussie share funds failed to beat a simple, ultra-low-cost index fund.

It’s kind of staggering when you think about it.

In what other industry do professionals offer so little value to their customers? (Okay, well apart from politics.)

After all, aren’t they highly intelligent people with (often) masters degrees and decades of experience? Who work 12 hours a day poring over companies’ financial reports? And yet consistently get trounced by a computer that simply buys every stock in an index? And why am I ending each sentence with a question mark?

Like you, I have a son, though he’s only three, so we listen to a lot of Wiggles.

Our favourite song?

The Wonder of Wiggle Town: “The kittens hide, the mice all hunt … the spoons are sharp, the knives are blunt … it's back to front.”

Now I don’t want to get all Wiggly on you Dave, but the Singing Skivvies’ song has similarities with the stock market: what you call mediocrity ‒ investing in a low-cost index fund ‒ is, ironically, the surest way to win on the stock market.

Toot Toot, Chugga Chugga!

Scott

The man who made $54 million before lunch

Last Monday, I broke bread with a bloke who’d just made $54 million … before lunch.

True dinks.

His name is Anthony Eisen and he’s one of the founders of Afterpay.

And he’s very, very rich.

Yet a few years ago he was like any other dad living in the burbs. As he’d turn out the lights at night, he’d notice there was always one light glowing across the street. It came from the room of Nick Molnar, a kid in his final year of uni who lived with his parents.

“Probably studying for his exams”, thought Eisen.

One day Eisen got talking to Nick, who explained he stayed up all night working on his eBay jewellery store. Yet the real jewel that caught young Nick’s eye was a groundbreaking payment system for his store:

“You buy something, and then you make a series of payments … but there’s no interest”, Nick told his neighbour.

“Ummm, that’s actually been around for years. It’s called lay-by”, said Eisen.

That conversation happened about four years ago in a sleepy suburban street in Melbourne.

Today, the Afterpay Touch Group is one of Australia’s fastest growing companies, worth over $4 billion.

So, how did they do it?

Well, the genius of Afterpay is that it looked at credit from the customer’s point of view.

The traditional credit model involves screwing the customer: think credit cards, personal loans, and so-called ‘interest free’ deals. Millennials have worked this out, and shun credit as a result.

Afterpay screws the retailer instead.It charges the shop a 4% commission on goods that are Afterpaid (it’s a verb, apparently). The customer then pays off the purchase in four fortnightly instalments. And if they pay on time, there are no fees, and no interest. Think of it as a modern-day version of lay-by with a millenial twist ‒ you get the goods immediately.

Clearly it’s a better option than a credit card, or a personal loan, or anything old Gerry Harvey has come up with.

So here I was meeting up the man who started it all … and I found out that, like me, he’s on a mission to help young people with their money.

“We’re here to help people, it’s in our DNA!” Eisen told me, sounding positively Zuckerberg-ian.

“Steady up, cobber”, I replied.

Here was another fabulously rich white tech dude who was saving the world … one short-term loan at a time.It’s my job to needle these visionaries on their ‘new new’ money thing.Look, there’s no denying that Afterpay has transformed the way millenials shop.

However, I’ve learned that with these ‘new new’ things, it takes a while for the ‘bad bad’ to show up. (Case in point: Mark Zuckerberg started out with the simple, wholesome aim of ‘making the world more connected’ ‒ and look where that got him.)

Specifically, what happens when you train a generation to spend money they don’t have?

Because, make no mistake, that’s where we’re headed:The majority of Afterpay’s 2.6 million customers are millennials.

Eisen told me that the average outstanding balance for a customer is just $208.Yet many are on a merry-go-round ‒ 90% of Afterpay’s transactions are from repeat customers.

The result?

Late last year ASIC found that one in six of millenials who use ‘buy now, pay later’ services like Afterpay are in financial strife … getting overdrawn, delaying bills, or borrowing more.

And that’s why I call Afterpay the ‘marijuana of credit’ ‒ my point is that, once you get hooked on spending someone else’s money, there’s every chance you’ll graduate onto harder stuff.

Still, I seem to be in the minority. That very morning that I met Eisen, the Senate inquiry into the ‘buy now pay later’ industry had left Afterpay off the hook from tougher regulation, which predictably caused the share price to rocket. In turn, Eisen, already one of the wealthiest men in Australia, was $54 million richer that day, at least on paper.

At the end of our lunch the waitress came over with the bill.“I’ll pay”, said Eisen.

“No, I’ll pay … with cash!"

Tread Your Own Path!

P.S. Afterpay is a hot button for plenty of people ‒ I’ve been inundated with emails. So this week I’m devoting my questions to it. And to kick it off, someone who is clearly a fan ...

Fearless Despite the Floods

Hi Scott,

It is 3am and I am wide awake checking the river levels from a mate’s house to see if our house has gone under yet — a bloody stressful time for our town (Townsville). Yet one thing I do not have to worry about is my important documents and my most cherished items. My ‘Fearless Folder’ and valuable are with me in my waterproof safe.

Once this mess is all over my kids have already decided that their Give jar will be going towards the recovery of Townsville for as long as it is needed. That makes my heart smile as they themselves may end up losing their possessions. These two things are giving me hope in a pretty crappy time. I thank you for that, and have no doubt there are many in Townsville doing the same.

Andrea

Hey Andrea,

Your joint’s flooding and you’re emailing me?

Seriously, I love the fact that you’re so calm in the face of a disaster: that’s what happens when you’ve got your money sorted, and your plan in place. Even better, you’re turning this into a powerful life lesson that you’re kids will remember.

You Got This!

Scott

Crypto Low

Hi Scott,

I have always put my savings in a long-term deposit bank account. However, starting about 12 months ago, I decided to use half of this money to invest in cryptocurrencies, and this resulted in a 90% loss. I then used the remaining of my savings in some blue-chip ASX shares that have delivered a 25% loss. Of my original $40,000 I currently have just $10,000! Should I accept this loss, cash out, and put my $10,000 back in the bank -- or hold?

Phil

Hi Phil,

Holy Moly.

This year really has been your ‘annus horribilis’, to quote the Queen. Now given your experience, you probably think everything is a scam. However, please don’t confuse punting on crypto and investing in shares. The small, but fundamental difference is that you are becoming a part-owner in a (hopefully) profitable business, that (hopefully) pays you a growing dividend.

So, what would I do?

Well, after suffering a 90% loss on your crypto, I’d mentally write them off as worthless, but continue holding them just in case crypto madness returns. However I’d hold and add to the blue chips over time. It’s the slow and steady accumulation of dividends that will make you wealthy. The rest is just noise.

Scott

Single Mum Is a Loser

Hi Scott

I am a 32-year-old single mother trying to save for my own house. I’m working full time and completing my degree online, so I moved in with my grandparents to get some help. My daughter and I currently share a bedroom, all in the name of saving. But I feel hopeless and useless. I have recently been looking at Metricon HomeSolution as a way of getting into the housing industry. Do you recommend this?

Fiona

Hi Fiona,

I agree, your instagram feed would totally suck: all you do is work and study, and you live with your grandparents and share a room with your kid!

#Loser.

However with as little as $2,000 down, you can have lots of instagram-worthy pics of you and your daughter in your very own, brand new Metricon home.

#Winner.

Actually, last year Metricon HomeSolution was fined by the regulator for misleading advertising. It turns out that buyers actually need to come up with a 5% deposit, which is financed through an unsecured personal loan, often arranged through one of Metricon’s associated finance brokers.

#Ripoff.

My job allows me to look through people’s financial filters, and here’s what I’ve seen:

Some of the biggest financial losers are young couples with the nicest Instagram accounts; they live in Metricon house-and-land-package homes, with a leased Audi, an interest free Harvey Norman television, and Afterpay’d accessories. I even have a name for them: Postcode Povvos.

In my eyes, you’re a winner.

While other people desperately try to show strangers on social media they’re successful - you are living it.

So do me a favor: whip out your phone and record a message to give to your daughter when she’s 18. Tell her about how you’re feeling right now: the struggle and sacrifice of working and studying, and being a mum. Tell her why you’re doing it, and what your hopes and dreams are. Then show her your little shared room.

I guarantee you two things:

First, when it comes time for her to look at that video, you’ll have your own little home.

Second, she’ll realise just how brave and amazing her mother really is.And that’s the ultimate ‘like’, right?

Scott

When cashed up bogans run out of luck

You know what really grinds my gears?

Cashed up bogans.

For years, their success stories have been clickbait for news websites. They all run along the same lines:

Craig and Cheryl were just like you - wasting their lives away reading empty articles on the internet instead of applying themselves at work. Yet unlike you, they made the decision to buy five investment properties five years ago.

Today the young couple are worth $3 million and they’ve retired (to run a property investment advisory business). The savvy couple’s advice to people wanting to follow in their footsteps? “If we did it, anyone can. All you need is passion” says Cheryl. “Hustle!” adds Craig.

(Insert photo of the smug couple with matching tans, tattoos, and teeth.)

“Come on, they were just lucky!” I yell at my computer screen.

They didn’t work, or create anything … all they did was take on a lot of debt and rode their luck!

Well, let me show you what happens when your luck runs out, this time with a real couple: Michelle and Ian Tate.

In 2013, the Tates decided to expand their property portfolio … to five properties.

Despite the fact they had three young kids.

Despite the fact that they were relying on only one income, which was heavily dependent on a cyclical industry (mining, as a fly-in fly-out FIFO worker).

It didn’t take long for things to go (as my father would say) ‘tits up’.

So, who is to blame?

Well, the couple blame the bank for lending them the dough.

And so do their lawyers, Maurice Blackburn, who have made them the lead plaintiffs in their blockbuster Westpac class action with the charge of irresponsible lending.Hang on a moment.

If we’re talking about acting irresponsibility, how about not taking a few moments to question how their single wage could possibly feed both a family of five, and five properties. It’s not that hard. All they needed to do was click away from Facebook and head over to a Mortgage Calculator:

“Strewth! If interest rates go up by 0.1% the computer says we’re cactus!”

It seems to me that there was a healthy dose of greed and stupidity on both sides.

The banks closed their eyes and went on a borrowing binge to hit their profit targets ... and many borrowers did pretty much the same thing. (And now, in the circle of corporate life, the greedy lawyers are licking their chops at the chance of a big payday.)

Look, I’m a fan of kicking the banks, yet I’m an even bigger fan of personal responsibility. And the media? Well, it’s a fan of whatever gets the most clicks, which this week was, “Family’s $1.8m Westpac mortgage hell”.

Tread Your Own Path!

Do I Need Renters Insurance?

Hi Scott,

I am a renter, and recently my new property agent mentioned contents insurance. I understand that the building is covered by the landlord, but I have never bothered with contents insurance before. I just had a quick google and it is a minefield! There is ‘contents insurance’, then there is ‘renters contents insurance’ ‒ I have no idea what the difference is and which one I should be looking at. Any advice?

Mardi

Hi Mardi,

Just so we’re clear, renters insurance (which is the same as contents insurance, just for renters) covers your personal contents at your property, and usually with an option to cover your personal effects when you’re out and about, whereas landlords insurance covers the building structure itself.

I did a few online comparisons for budget renters insurance, and the cost for insuring $20,000 worth of contents against fire, flood and theft ranged from $150 to $300 per year (though it may be different based on your own situation and what you want covered).

If you’re in a share house it gets a little trickier (you can’t insure individual rooms), but some policies allow you to detail the items you want to cover. If all your flatmates have expensive stuff like a laptops, fancy cameras, phones and jewellery, it may be worth you all chipping in for it.

Bottom line?

If you’re most expensive possession is a Bob Marley bong, perhaps you can pass on it. Otherwise, add up the cost of replacing everything and then run the sums.

Scott

He came downstairs brandishing a screwdriver

When I was in my early twenties I rented a shoebox apartment in the armpit of St Kilda.

My landlord, an excitable 70-something Jewish man, lived upstairs with his excitable 20-something Russian bride.

(They had a tumultuous relationship ‒ they were either loving or fighting, but they were always very, very loud.)

My entrance to the apartment was via a dodgy back alleyway. Someone had obviously tried to jimmy the door open, because as I was leaving for work the front door handle fell clean off.

So I called the landlord. A few minutes later he came downstairs with a screwdriver, which he handed to me.

“You want me to fix the door?” I asked.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, and began to chuckle.

“No. This is your new door handle, key, and security weapon … all rolled in one!” he barked through a coughing fit.

True dinks.

I still remember the strange looks I got when I arrived at work with my screwdriver.

My country-living parents found these big-city stories highly amusing. They were the ones, after all, who (lovingly) threatened to change the locks on our family home, and thus drop-punted me into the real world twenty years ago.

What a learning experience it was!

I learnt how to make my money stretch (hello homebrew), how to cook (once a flatmate asked me, “How long do I cook two-minute noodles for?”), the art of diplomacy and negotiation (eventually the landlord replaced the door handle with a … second-hand handle), and the importance of cleaning (something admittedly I hadn’t placed a high value on … because up until that point my mother had done it for me).

Yes, you’re not living until you’ve had at least one stint in a share house ‒ it’s the ultimate rite of passage.

What The Royal Commission Means For You

This column was supposed to be a rip-snorter.

See, Monday — when the findings of the Hayne Royal Commission were released — was like Grand Final Day for me ... I (almost) got more airplay than Kerri-Anne Kennerley. Not only was it the biggest news item of the week, it was arguably the biggest finance story since the GFC.

So, earlier in the week I wrote to the Barefoot Community — literally hundreds of thousands of people — and offered to answer any questions on the Royal Commission, in today’s column.

I had a tin of Nescafe Blend 43, and toothpicks, at the ready to answer the flood of questions.

Here’s what came through:

One guy wanted to know if marijuana stocks would be affected (ummm no, smokey), another asked what aftershave I use (?), and a few wanted to know if it was a good time to buy or sell homes.

So here’s my big takeout from this week:

You don’t really give a toss about the Royal Commission findings, do you?

(Sure, the media banged on about it, but everyone else was like, “How about that psycho on MAFS, am I right?”)

Yet there was one group who flooded my inbox: mortgage brokers — who were angrier than Alby Mangels (google him) at the Hayne-bomb’s recommendation to blow their trailing commissions to Timbuktu.

It was easy to spot them — they often wrote IN FULL CAPS. Why were they so mad?

Well, the biggest change from the Royal Commission recommendations will come in two to three years’ time when you shop for a home loan. If it all comes to pass, banks will be banned from paying both up-front and trailing commissions to brokers. Instead, you’ll pay an up-front fee to the mortgage broker for the advice.

Yet how will that work out in the real world?

Luckily, I happen to know, because I did this last year with one of my staff, Karen, who came to me and said she wanted to refinance her home loan.

We did three things:

First, we shopped around to see what rate online lenders like UBank and Homeloans.com.au were offering.

Second, she rang her bank and used the scripts in my book to see if they’d match thecheapest deal.

Third, I arranged for her to see a totally independent mortgage expert who charged an hourly fee for his unconflicted research, with absolutely no kickbacks. (This is the proposed model that will be in place in a few years.)

His fee for the research?

$4,000.

Well, you could have knocked Karen over with a feather.

“I don’t have $4,000!” she cried.

The independent broker explained it would take 20 hours of research at $200 per hour … but that he would also rebate both the upfront and the trailing commissions.

In the end, Karen ditched him and went with another broker who was recommended by her accountant.

“What did they charge you?” I asked.

“Actually, I don’t remember … but I know I didn’t have to pay anything up front!” she said.

And there’s the problem:

The finance industry has trained customers to expect that financial advice should be ‘free’ … free home loan advice, free insurance advice, and (back in the old days) free financial plans.

However, the truth is that ‘free’ is the most expensive way to get advice — because they’re loading up the cost of the product and generally expressing it as a percentage rather than a flat dollar cost, to obscure it further.

Still, most Aussies are like Karen … they’d rather have ‘free’ advice — no matter how much it costs them in the long run.

Tread Your Own Path!

Reminder: I first wrote about this years ago and highlighted the low fees. Today there are better bank accounts on offer. How do I know? Because my readers constantly email me about them! So before you do anything, google the best accounts on offer now.

Australian Scholarships Group Made Me Cry

Thanks for warning people last week about ASG. I wasn’t surprised you don’t recommend them. My husband and I had our first baby quite young (21) and at the time went to a baby expo to check out all the latest things. We wrote our names down for a ‘competition’, only to start receiving calls from ASG. We somehow got talking and then a guy came out to my mum’s house (where we were living while saving money) to talk to us about it. We said we could not afford it but might look into it later.

Anyway, the guy started calling me every day, then a couple of times a day. I ignored the calls, but then he called me 45 times in one hour! I was bawling my eyes out, so my husband called the head office and told them he would call the police if we were contacted again. It was horrible. I have told anyone who has ever mentioned them since to never go near them.

Justine

Justine

Hi Justine

He called you 45 times in an hour? That is intense. He really wanted that commission! This sales culture is why I’ve been so hard on ASG … here’s hoping the new CEO (who I interviewed for last week’s column) cleans up their act.

Scott

Preparing for Apartment Armageddon

Hi Scott,

A few years ago I read your prediction that inner city apartment prices would fall. Since then I’ve been saving hard and am relieved to see property prices finally going down! I am now a few months away from having enough for a 20% deposit. Do you have any advice for first home owners looking to buy in the next year?

Tammy

Hi Tammy,

Well done for playing the long game!

(In 2015 I wrote ‘an open letter to the young people of Australia’ where I predicted that 2018 would be the year that first apartment owners would get their revenge, because of an oversupply of newly built inner city apartments.)

My first bit of advice is that there is no need to rush.In fact, 2019 is shaping up to be an even tougher year for the property market. A NAB survey released late last month found that confidence in the housing market has hit new lows (then again, NAB’s own behaviour hasn’t exactly been a confidence-builder either).

The apartment market has gone from FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) to FONGO (Fear of Not Getting Out).

Use it to your advantage. With a large (and growing) deposit, and the ability to negotiate, you’re in the box seat.

FONGO on!

Scott