COOL MONEY TRANSCENDS EVERY FORM OF WEALTH

interview by PAUL VAN RIESSEN
creative direction and photography by DANIEL SARS

When you try to capture people of means in simple categories, you diminish the truth. Only when you look beyond the balance of their bank accounts and how that balance came to be, does a far richer dimension reveal itself. And then it turns out that the six people we brought together, over a Grey Goose Altius Martini, have far more in common than one might expect.

You cannot quite make out what she is shouting, but it is clear the au pair on her cargo bike is far from pleased after nearly being knocked off course. The man in the sports car, wearing a blue jacket that billows slightly under his left wrist and matching white-soled suede loafers, offers an apology. He does so with a casual flick of the hand, a gesture that mostly communicates that of course he does not want his child to be late for school. Especially not when tuition alone costs him well over twenty thousand euros a year.

It takes little imagination to sketch the familiar picture of someone for whom prosperity is a relatively recent arrival. Just as it takes only the image of a checkered blanket for a Labrador, draped in the back of a slightly dated Volvo parked on the gravel drive of a grand, classic house, to evoke the atmosphere of a family whose wealth has been passed down for generations.

Descendants of long-established families grow up in households devoted to preserving capital that has existed for at least three generations. Often, that wealth exists mostly on paper, or more precisely, in bricks. In ancestral homes or even castles, which, due to constant maintenance, can feel more burden than blessing. But under no circumstances does the current generation want to be the one to squander the cherished family estate. They raise their children with the idea that they should not expect an inheritance, but heritage, something meant to be carried forward to the next generation.

This contrasts with the cheerful carelessness found in families for whom wealth is a new phenomenon, the direct result of hard work. Wealth meant to be enjoyed. And precisely because the creators of that fortune did not themselves grow up in abundance, the youngest generation is often spoiled. Hence the popularity of the Birò.

Of course, real life seldom fits neatly into clichés. Does it truly matter how much money someone has or when their wealth originated? No. However new or established, money holds only the value you assign to it. Which makes it far too narrow to judge someone by the contents of their wallet. What matters far more is everything else they carry with them. Cultural capital, for example: the ability to live life with passion, to pursue goals consciously, to celebrate achievements, while also finding pleasure in life as it unfolds.

And precisely in the places where life is celebrated, differences fade and boundaries dissolve. Does not everyone brighten at the sight of inspiring company, meaningful conversations and good music? Does not everyone’s mood lift when a bottle of Grey Goose Altius is set on the table? When you can sink into the moment, the atmosphere, with the finest drink you can be served? A drink crafted specifically to mark life’s high points and anchor beautiful memories. Exactly. In the end, it is not about what sits in your bank account or how it got there. It is about what you know how to draw from life. True wealth lies in experience.

OLCAY GULSEN AND RENÉ VAN RAPPARD ON THE PRICE OF POSSESSION

Olcay Gulsen naturally feels most at home with people who share a similar drive  individuals who have built something themselves and take pride in it. She recognizes that instinct from her own upbringing. “I come from a very poor family, so I know from personal experience how defining money can be, and what the lack of it does to you,” says the 45-year-old entrepreneur, who is now building her own beauty brand.

“Precisely because I’ve walked that path myself, I feel a stronger connection with people who have created their own journey. For me it’s not about status, but about mentality: working hard, seizing opportunities, and writing your own story.”

René van Rappard (77) says he was raised with the understanding that there is no reason to feel superior, even though he descends from one of the four knightly families that the Netherlands still counts today. “I discovered that only in primary school, when we learned about the Middle Ages and the image was presented of knights adored by noble ladies. People started pointing at me. My classmates knew my status before I did.”

Van Rappard understands partly what Gulsen means. “But you are really talking about a tiny group, mostly men who do not accomplish much themselves and are simply spending the last pennies left by their grandmother.” And that group is shrinking fast. “There are hardly any large historic fortunes left. A lot evaporates, especially with the current tax system. Some people still live on estates or country houses, but those are usually held in foundations and maintained with subsidies. With today’s energy prices, I would not wish a large estate on anyone. A friend of mine is selling his now. Let me know if you are interested, he is desperate to get rid of it.”

He himself was raised with the expectation of hard work. His career took him through BP, Akzo and private equity. Now retired, he still actively manages his investments, something that may run in his blood: his mother comes from the Van Lanschot banking family.

Olcay, meanwhile, is only now exploring investing. “I always thought: I will earn so much money that I will not need it. I grew up in a very poor family, so I know how important money is. If everyone around you knows there is a shortage, it shapes you. That was my reason to work incredibly hard, to prove that the girl from that family that had nothing truly mattered. That drive, that need to prove myself, has faded. Now I am far less motivated by ego and far more by wanting to contribute something,” she says. She laughs about the odd remnants of growing up with little. “I still cannot get used to exclusive food. My favourite vegetables still come from a jar. I know Grey Goose Altius pairs beautifully with caviar, I have seen how it gives others a goose-bump moment, but you will not make me happy with that. The vodka itself though is smooth, refined, unmatched. I love drinking it at the start of the weekend or whenever there is something to celebrate.”

René van Rappard, who prefers vodka after rowing with his mates several times a week, is enthusiastic about caviar. “In the eighties, I spent a lot of time in Eastern Europe. I used to buy five-kilo tins on the black market. At home, my friends and I would spoon through them. Completely mad. But delicious. And I do not care if it is not proper. I will never say restroom, but aside from that, I am not one for conventions. If I see someone burying their nose in a glass of wine and performing a whole theatre act, I think: utter nonsense. A good product does not need all that.”

WON YIP AND NIELS DE BOER ON THE ART OF ENJOYMENT

Anyone longing for the atmosphere of bygone eras should step inside Niels de Boer’s (56) home on Amsterdam’s Herengracht. It feels as though you have slipped into the seventeenth century. Ornate ceilings, walls adorned with Old Masters that the wealthy of that era adored.

The stately canal house also receives the mail of the foundation named after his great-uncle Pieter, whose art collection includes eight works by Vincent van Gogh. Those are not for sale, of course. The rest is, because Niels de Boer represents the third generation of Kunsthandel P. de Boer. His parents allowed him the freedom to choose his own path, but he inherited their love of art. “Because of that, I do not see myself as very wealthy. In our family, we always want more paintings than we need. That is where our money goes. If I had more, I would buy more art.”

He knows he grew up privileged, just like most people in Baarn. “I was in class with Prince Constantijn. We called him Connie van Oranje. Did I often go to his house? No. Like his brothers, he preferred to play elsewhere.”

If the definition of inherited wealth requires at least three generations, then Amsterdam hospitality entrepreneur Won Yip (56) would be considered new. But he does not identify with that. “I have been working forty years for what I have. I do not have that quick, flashy approach that I associate with fresh money. I want nothing to do with crypto or stocks that jump two hundred percent in a year. Money is something you work for, something you use to pay your bills. And once those are paid, you make sure you have something set aside. I am very conservative with it.”

Both men see that the traditional idea of generational wealth is fading. “I have never heard so many people say their children have no interest in the art collection built by their parents,” says De Boer. Won Yip even encourages the older generation to spend their own money. “My eighty-six-year-old mother-in-law called me recently to complain about the price of the wine at the restaurant she was in. I told her: you can always go home, then there is more left for your grandchildren and they will burn through it in a day if they have to. She immediately ordered another martini,” he laughs. “Maybe it is generational. When you see how easily your children order sushi, you start wondering why you should sit under a blanket on the sofa. I see it in my businesses too, people from established families are spending more freely.”

And why not. Money only has value when you use it. And these two men know how to use it well. Niels de Boer directs his wealth toward beautiful dinners, with good food and good drink. Grey Goose Altius on the rocks, please.

Won Yip seeks experiences, sometimes small, sometimes spectacular. “Some of the most special moments cost almost nothing. I am going to a premiere tonight, that could easily be one. But if I am in Vegas, and I am with friends, I might book a table at Omnia. And yes, I like it when Grey Goose Altius arrives with fireworks. I may be conservative, but there are moments when I go all out. Then I step into the light.”

DIDIER FROGER AND EELKO VAN KOOTEN ON THEIR LOVE OF THE CLUB

“The image people still have of long-established families is of someone with a shotgun, corduroy trousers and a little hat. And yes, those people exist, also in the Netherlands. But here they are no longer that wealthy. For truly historic fortunes, you need to look in Luxembourg, Germany or England. That is where you will still find great landowners living off ground leases. Here, that yields nothing. The expensive plots, the Zuidas or central Amsterdam, are all owned by the state,” says Eelko van Kooten (55), who enjoys the company of established families. He has participated in the Mille Miglia several times, the iconic thousand-mile race through Italy in historic cars. “You still see young heirs driving the Ferrari their grandfather once bought new. And I have been to Wimbledon’s final, another place where old fortunes gather. Fantastic.”

Didier Froger (28) had all the makings of a classic privileged kid, if only because he grew up in Blaricum. “But if I slipped into a posh accent at home, my father would laugh in my face. He grew up in the Jordaan, and I really absorbed that. We had plenty materially, there were always nice things under the Christmas tree, but we did not wear expensive clothes. I was raised not to show off. When we came back from holidays, I barely dared to say what we had done, afraid it would spread. That happens when your parents are known. Few people see how hard they worked. My father was gone a lot, my mother too when she started making TV shows. So we spent a lot of time with nannies. I actually liked it, they were less strict. They had rules though. For example, you were not allowed to speak before eleven in the morning, because my father usually came home late and needed to sleep.”

Despite the abundance at home, Didier knows firsthand that money is not guaranteed. “I knew from fifteen that I wanted to become a musician. But my parents strongly discouraged it, too unstable. So I pretended to have a job while I was actually in the studio all day. I had no money then. We would sit there passing around a single cigarette. I did not want to ask my parents for money, I wanted to do it myself. And I did. That is the best part,” says Froger, now a successful DJ.

Eelko van Kooten was determined to build his own career rather than rely on his father’s fortune. “I started working in his company, did everything there. But while he did not believe in the dance scene, I did. So I started Spinnin’ Records.” The sale of that company secured his place in the Quote 500.

Didier, of course, is still far from that level, but he no longer worries about groceries. Bookings come steadily; he moves from club to club. One thing is constant: there is always a bottle of Grey Goose Altius waiting for him. “It is on my rider,” he laughs. “If I drink, I drink vodka. And of course, I want the best.”

Eelko also enjoys a glass of Grey Goose Altius, though he sometimes gets odd looks for mixing it with apple or cranberry juice. “I picked that up in America. I like it, also in clubs. I do not go as often anymore. When it was my work, I would sometimes see three in one night. But I still love a party. I always take a table on the VIP deck. I have worked too hard to get crushed on the dance floor. And besides, your shoes get filthy,” he laughs.

The Art of Legacy is on exclusive view at Kunsthandel P. de Boer on the Herengracht in Amsterdam. Visits are possible only by appointment and can be scheduled via rsvp@kunsthandelpdeboer.com.