POUNDLAND'S DEMISE

Killer! Murderer! Assassin! Me and millions like me have dealt Poundland a fatal death blow. Et Tu Brute. I’ve as good as stuck the knife in.

These were my thoughts as I mooched round the already plundered aisles of Chichester’s soon-to-be-closed-down Poundland like a scavenging vulture looking for a carcass to pick clean. As sure as eggs is eggs, I’m one of many who have contributed to the demise of this popular retail emporium.

Bye bye Poundland - I'll miss you

How can one tiny person bring down such a commercial colossus? By being lazy, that’s how.

Modern technology has spawned a nation of indolent shoppers for whom taking a trip to town to buy toiletries, clothing or anything has become nothing more than an inconvenience. Why bother to get dressed, sit in traffic, stress over where to park the car or jostle with the great unwashed in cramped shops that don’t respect your personal space when you can just purchase whatever you like from the comfort of your laptop or smartphone? For many of us, shopping means major mental trauma.

Not only is online shopping easier or quicker but you can also use websites such as Trolley.co.uk to look for the cheapest price rather than trudge endlessly round squinting at price stickers or having your ankles smashed by trolleys/buggies driven by inconsiderate idiots who fail to grasp that two objects cannot occupy the same space unless they’re in a parallel dimension. Plus, some gumby gets to bring your purchases straight to the front door freeing up even more time for a spot of cyber-bingo or electronic celebrity undressing.

Supermarkets and other retailers are happy to encourage laziness since online deliveries/click & collect have become a multi-million pound industry.  They're making money hand-over-fist from the bone idle so they're not likely to be that bothered about the impact on the ever-dwindling high street.

Multiply one person’s laziness by millions of shoppers and you’ll understand why Britain’s High Streets are slowly disappearing, sucked dry by the commercial vampire that is internet shopping. We’re all guilty of killing off our town centres. Poundland won’t be the last chain to be garrotted by idleness.

In addition to that ‘can’t be arsed’ attitude that’s decimating our shopping precincts, shopper habits in general have probably changed in response to the current economic climate and other factors. I know mine have.

Being a self-confessed Super Scrimper, I no longer pop out for the odd trip to town, preferring instead to shop in bulk usually online. I keep a beady eye on prices then when I spot what I feel is a bargain, I buy a large quantity of that product. Take toiletries for example. Not for me the odd tube of toothpaste or can of deodorant stuck in with the weeks shopping. When I need this type of thing I get at least 6 tubes or cans or enough to tide me over for several months. In this way I can lock in that bargain price thus creating a cushion against the risk of future price increases in the market.

Same goes for laundry or cleaning products. At the start of each year, I ‘forecast’ how much detergent, washing up liquid or fabric softener I might need for the next 6-12 months then I wait for supermarket offers on these items. When the price is right, I stock up. It’s why my understairs cupboard always looks like a subsidiary of Poundland because bulk buying enables me to take advantage of economies of scale. Always keep a smaller pack/container in use which can be easily refilled from larger ones.

For those of you out there thinking ‘what a saddo’ well you may be right but I’ve always felt that if you look after the pennies, you don’t need to worry about the pounds. Must be all those years working in investment banking.

And so, this is how I’ve helped to kill Poundland and loads of other retail establishments by being a weirdo shopper who buys things online. 

Sorry to see Poundland go from Chi’s High Street. No doubt it’ll be replaced with yet another café, pizza parlour or expensive up-market chain that’s of little use to anyone other than the super-rich.

A PROSPEROUS RETIREMENT

I’ve decided to stop using the term ‘retirement’ as that sounds like the ill-awaited fate for knackered racehorses. Instead, I shall be referring to my golden years as the Period of Self Enlightenment or POSE for short seeing as everything is reduced to acronym form these days.

I plan to become a POSER before the end of the current tax year. But that’s no-where near the state retirement age I hear you gasp in amazement; how will you do it?

Indeed, how can I become a POSER without claiming a state pension? Simply by saving today so I can live for tomorrow. Not easy when I’m throwing cash around at the timber merchants like knickers at a Tom Jones concert but there are plenty of ways to build a POSER foundation without locking my purse away deep in the vaults of Fort Knox.

If I could re-wind the clock to give my younger self some good advice it would be this – if your company doesn’t offer a defined benefit (final salary) pension scheme, don’t enrol in a pension but save that money in a cash ISA instead.

Outrageous advice! Fund Managers out there are no doubt sharpening knives, lighting torches and grabbing pitchforks from their garden sheds ready to roast me on a skewer like a juicy kofta kebab over a nice hot flame. Pension Advisers would deride such foolhardy notions, citing guff about tax relief given on pension contributions by the Government but to my mind they are only keen on seducing workers into defined contribution schemes because it keeps them in jobs and extends our taxpayer lifespans.

What is a decently funded retirement anyway? Well, that depends on your perspective and aspirations. A study done at Loughborough University claims that a single person will need at least £31,300 a year for a moderate income in retirement according to a pensions industry body (who?). The least you’ll need is £14,400 per annum on which to live and the most around £43,100. What I’d like to know is what are these figures based on?

The key omission of Loughborough’s interesting reportage failed to mention whether these figures were pre-tax or after tax because the key to a prosperous retirement is knowing all about TAX, what you’ll pay, when you’ll pay it and how to ensure you pay as little as is legally possible.

Let’s take the figure mentioned above of £31,300 a year and break it down further. For my example I’m going to assume that this is pre-tax income made up of the current annual state pension of £11,973 plus a private pension of £19,327. (You’d need a massive private pension pot to generate an annual income of £19,327 per annum).

You would pay zero tax on the whole of your state pension BUT because the combined income is greater than the current personal income tax allowance of £12,570 then you would be liable for tax on £18,730 which at the basic rate of 20% means you’d have to give the Revenue £3,746 leaving a net annual income of £27,554.

Whilst the remainder of your pension pot continues to stay invested then in addition to tax on your future annual drawdowns, you’d also be paying fund management charges that would be eating into your capital. Remember too that monies invested in a pension fund are subject to the vagaries of the stock market which may go up or down depending on which way the wind is blowing and that will in turn affect the total value of your pot. In bad or volatile markets, the value of your pot may plummet thus potentially affecting how much you have available to draw down from your pension in any given year.

Now in my crazy retro scenario, I’ve gone back in time like a pirate Time Lord raided all my private pension schemes and placed the money into a cash ISA instead. OK so I may not have benefitted from potential market rises or tax relief but my invested capital has remained secure, safely weathered every conceivable political/financial crisis and steadily grown in its very own tax-free wrapper.

Supposing that I’ve managed to grow my cash ISA pot to the same value as a defined contribution pension pot then let’s revisit the above example to see if I would be better off. State pension £11,973 tax free as under the tax threshold and £18,730 drawn from the ISA also tax free so £3,746 pounds plus fund management charges better off.

What’s more I can continue to save into a cash ISA without fear of breaching any pension lifetime allowances and landing myself with a huge tax headache.

The pensions industry will try to emotionally blackmail us with crap about inflation and how money in a cash ISA is worth less over time. However, £20 is still £20 regardless of whether you get it from an ISA account or a pension fund. When I studied economics back in the 80’s, inflation measured the buying power of money NOT the rate at which prices rise, this now seems to be the popular definition used in the media. Inflation erodes the buying power of everyone’s money anyway you get it.

Clearly the University’s estimated pension figures must be skewed in favour of yuppy pensioners benefitting from generous civil service gold plated pensions since most of us will have failed to earn an annual salary of £31,300 or £43,100 in our career lifetimes. My best wage only topped £32,000 and that was after about 30 years of employment.

The key to a prosperous retirement is to manage expectations and live within your means. Don’t be seduced by mass consumerism or pension preachers. Sounds boring but not impossible. Most single POSERs could still get a lot out of the minimal amount quoted of £14,400 if they re-examined their outgoings and gave up fags, booze, subscription services, takeaways, online gambling, tattoos and expensive holidays/smartphones.

Don’t believe the hype – you can retire on a lot less than £31,300 and still have a bloody good life. After all, I’ve lived on a part-time salary much smaller than the state pension for the past 5 years and still found the cash to pay for food, festivals and McFlurries.

BYE BYE WORKPLACE

Although there’s still two months before I skip off into the early retirement sunset, I’ve already drawn up a letter announcing my departure intentions which I’ll present to my manager like an early Easter egg. Haven’t you bought yours yet? They’ve been in the shops since 5 January so no excuses.

Legally obliged to give only a months’ notice, I’m generously giving my employer two whole months in which to procrastinate as I’ve yet to experience a workplace where replacement staff are recruited in a timely manner that allows the current incumbent to train up their successor.

And that of course is assuming that there will be a successor because past experience also shows that many companies choose to leave posts vacant for a period in order to achieve headcount budget saves and don’t really care if your colleagues have to absorb your workload on top of their own in the meantime.

The more devious companies use early retirements as a good excuse for a complete departmental restructure that generally results in more work for the same pay on a permanent basis and also generates ongoing savings on employer on-costs which are then spaffed on director bonuses, client schmoosing or some nonsensical bit of office kit you didn’t know you needed.

I hope my replacement is the Usain Bolt of data input, has the patience of a saint, zero initiative, and enjoys being micro-managed because these are the key attributes required to fit into my role.

Whilst there is no career progression as such or guarantee of an annual pay rise, you can dress casually, listen to the radio all day long and enjoy the delights of a Turner’s pie delivered to your desk every Christmas. Even the chancellor can’t tax these perks which albeit small, add to a pleasant working environment.

The key to a good leaving letter in my view is to ensure you don’t burn bridges because if retirement becomes one long bore, you may wish to return to your old job. Are there any statistics out there to quantify how many people have done this? Keep it brief, free of personal gripes or company criticisms and thank them.

What???  Yes, thank your employer for giving you the opportunity to sit there and take shit. It’s polite and after all whatever you might think of them, they gave you a chance when perhaps no-one else would. Plus I’m sure that most people have given as much shit back to their employers as they’ve taken during their working lives so it’s only fair to show some degree of gratitude.

By all means throw in all those insincere platitudes – I’ll miss you (no I won’t), I’ve enjoyed working here (really?), I’ll pop in to say hello (come on, nobody ever goes back) and keep in touch (I never want to hear from you buggers ever, ever, ever again!).  Best to just keep it simple.

In the past I’ve always handed over my letters of resignation on a Friday. This is not a deliberate ploy on my part to ensure my manager has a stressful weekend but because as an ex-manager, office custom and practice is to deliver bad news on Fridays.

You’re sacked/redundant/being replaced by a robot or a 12 year old who knows how to use social media – all of these scenarios are communicated at the end of the week so as to cause the least disruption in the workplace. No tears, tantrums or toys thrown out of the pram for 5 days because all those human emotions that accompany bad news then take place on your own dime. By the time Monday rolls round, your resignation is old news and pragmatic plans can then be put in place so that office life can continue as before.

There’s always an element of both nervousness and sadness in handing over the missive but it should always be done in person. No cowardly leaving the letter on the desk when your boss has nipped out for a latte/slash or to chat up the totty in the team next door.

Experience shows that after the deed is done there’s generally an embarrassing silence, some well wishing but never a great deal of chat; both of you are just sat there hoping the moment will quickly pass so you can get back to your spreadsheets.

BACK TO BLIGHTY

Overseas business concluded, back home in dear old Blighty, a country of cold, complaining and crises. Who wouldn’t want to live in sunny Spain all winter? I for one would quite happily hibernate here from October to April each year given half the chance and a lottery win.

Something that’s hard to explain is that although British by birth and having lived pretty much all my life in the UK, there’s a part of me that always feels like I’ve returned home when visiting Spain. I just can’t put my finger on it. A switch flips in my head bringing out the Mediterranean in me. And when the locals accost me in the street to ask for directions then it becomes even more obvious that they think I’m one of them, not some gringo from foreign parts. Not that I can help them in any way as I’ve no idea where anything is but it’s really rather nice to be asked.

Alas, all good things come to an end and it’s probably no bad thing. There’s a reason why you leave home in your younger years; it doesn’t change as you get older. Everyone knows parents will drive you mad sooner or later, mine are no exception.  I now need a holiday to get over this holiday!

Besides which I have a long list of stuff to return to such as continuing the wood panelling project I started before Christmas plus getting my head round this new concept called retirement.