Private Banker International publishes a satirical picture of a London-based private banking chief executive.

My name is James Impeccable, and I don’t like to be called Jimmy. I am the CEO of a Private Bank located in London’s prestigious Mayfair. People say I have the ‘God’ gene and on many days of the week, I can see what they mean.

Wealth management is the core function of our business, although in my heart, I’d really like to do more wealth spending. My clients trust me to optimise their assets, and this makes me feel nauseous most days. I don’t have any real assets of my own you see, although I do regard my image as one. I dress to impress and like handmade suits. I can’t yet afford Saville Row tailoring, but I keep the old bags of James & James under my desk and use these when I need to create the right impression. I do a self-service kind of tailoring. I believe it’s called ‘mail order’. I saw the advertisement in the FT and it was an answer I was searching for. This does require me to stand on a chair in my office whilst my PA does all the measurements. I like ‘turn ups’ on my trousers and even though this costs a little more, I think it is worth it. I like to think and look British, although my continental background does mean I have difficulty pronouncing certain words, such as ‘spiffing’ and ‘jolly good’.

I have every back copy of The Sunday Times ‘Rich List’ which I keep for reference purposes. I check how many people I can claim to know that are featured on the list. Sometimes I haven’t even met the person concerned, but that doesn’t matter. I have heard so much about them and this makes me feel I can call them a ‘friend’. Each year I add new entries in alphabetical order on my roller-desk, and I have my ‘contacts’ on a shared drive in the office, to reinforce the impression of how connected I am. I have put my name down for White’s’ Club on St James’s as I am told this is the most ‘blue blooded’ club in London SW1. My interview didn’t go well though. I turned up in my very smart brown suit, only to be told by a committee member “never brown in Town”.

I count myself lucky. I attend smart dinner parties and I mix in the higher echelons of society. I tell people that ask that I live in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, which sounds so much nicer than saying ‘Earls Court’. I live in a large duplex flat on Crescent Mansions, which has such a noble ring about it. This once represented the pinnacle of attainment, but which now depresses me beyond measure.

Most of my clients live in large houses on fashionable garden squares in South Kensington. I dream of one day living on one of these Square’s myself. I often use my Sunday’s for scouting some of these smart addresses and am particularly fond of the large white stucco houses on Hertford Square.

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I hate Sundays: the quietness I find particularly oppressive. What is a man without hobbies supposed to do on a Sunday? I am reading the Great Gatsby for the third time, which transports me to another world of materialism that I secretly idealise. My red Ferrari is 10 years old, and I acquired it second hand, but that doesn’t matter as my private number plate hides the reality of its age.

I live for work and I like the working week when I am dressed in a white shirt and Hermes ties. It gives me the identity I have long been searching for. The perks of being CEO comes with my own parking space and a key to the lift that takes me straight to the top floor and my glass plated office overlooks Hyde Park.

I always start my day with a morning meeting over breakfast with my fellow Partners (Partners in name only you understand), and I give them my views on the markets and the geopolitical risks. Time doesn’t usually allow for me to hear their views as usually I have a PR meeting swiftly afterwards. I think it very important to create the right image with the press and it’s the only time I ever feel anxious. I spend hours before the meeting creating ‘ideas’ for op-ed pieces that will show me off in the best possible intellectual light. Lie about your enemies or competitors is the first rule in my PR book and, from time to time, have employed this to devasting effect.

I read the Financial Times every day and I don’t like frivolous newspapers, such as The Times. I must admit to secretly liking the ‘How to Spend It’ column in the FT which transports me to a world a long way from Earls Court.

My PA is invaluable and makes all my travel plans. I travel first class for long haul destinations and I like seat 1A. When I can’t have it, I formally write to British Airways to register my strong displeasure. My PA, who must be on call 24 hours a day, has just told me she is pregnant and seems overjoyed with this news. I most certainly am not. How bloody inconsiderate of her. I am not even the father… She will have to go.

‘Derek is a Journalist and Broadcaster’ you can follow him at @DerekLaud1