Alternative Derivatives

Cost Centre#2 is going for an intern interview, the suit has been dry cleaned and the shoes borrowed from CC#1. I helped to hone the CV months ago, had numerous goes at Strengths and Weaknesses, but he won’t listen to me when it comes to interview tips. And I’ve even brushed up on them recently with recruitment friends – here’s one to remember STAR: Situation, Task, Action, Result – basically have a few readymade examples of where you sorted out the bosses mess.

Tristan Davenport helpfully steps in, as a former recruiter he knows just how to approach this with stealth strategy and as a good luck charm loans CC#2 the perfect tie. When it comes to financial institutions, markets, gilts, bonds, derivatives, equities, liquid and otherwise, I’m just a little at sea, not totally, mind, I read The Big Short by Michael Lewis, and even he was surprised he was ever employed by Solomon Brothers. So I hope CC#2 gets good news soon and segues seamlessly into his Masters, with a lot of help from the bank.

While he’s at the interview I’m at a Swiss Private Bank Investment Seminar. No harm in finding new readers for the as yet unpublished book I think. Back in the day when I gave fine art advice to collectors the bank reckoned I could bring in some business, which I’m sure I can, just not this year or next.

I learn that we’ve just come through the Great Moderation period, 1970-92 and we are now experiencing a cycle of weak growth which may be the New Normal. They are a more positive than a bullish lot, these particular bankers from London, their analysis is creative and attention holding, which is good considering my ability to be distracted after five minutes. I learn a lot about how things went spectacularly wrong here and elsewhere, mainly serial human error in positions of trust and regulation. We knew that, but it’s helpful to see it explained in photos and epithets. The emotional side of the brain comes in for quite a lot of stick. But I recognise a lot of the attributes that make up a good investment analyst.

I think I’d be good at that job and ask the very demure blonde girl who joins us at lunch how she entered the investment banking milieu. With a degree in history, she replies. I’ve one of those, and a masters, what are the chances I wonder? I’ve no babysitting or maternity-leave issues anymore. An ideal candidate really, I love analysis and creating narrative. I was put in my place recently by a Dutch ex-banker who told me I could never be employed by a financial institution, ‘why?’ I asked incredulously, accusing him of chauvinistic bias, ‘because you can’t be brainwashed,’ that’s another way of saying I’m past it.

That evening I attend an exhibition of satirical cartoons at a friend’s venue, the Bar with No Name. I’d commissioned a cartoon from the artist for the Absentee Boyfriend’s Christmas present. When I saw it first I was reluctant to give it as a gift, ABF looked like a down-and-out on skis. He loved it though. Men like that sort of thing, having their idiosyncrasies accentuated; it doesn’t work quite so well for women. Most of the work was sold on the night, a great achievement , as the artist is an architect of some repute who is supplementing design projects with his talent for satire.

I was surprised to see another friend behind the bar and asked if he was helping for the night, ‘No,’ he replied, ‘it’s better than drawing the dole,’ this was a man with two city centre takeaways, and told me he had to close them recently due to exorbitant rent. Greedy landlords, adding to the unemployment queues, you know who you are.

The next alternative career announcement was from Baron Von Reichterscale, I’m calling him this because his personal land, air and sea speed record is off the R-scale. He’s thinking of packing up his high-tech, high-end, business, because there’s so little of it. And opening a restaurant. Well we all have to eat, and he’s great fun, so I’d go. In fact, I want to be chief waitress.