Credit where credit’s due
In a nondescript building hidden from the public an enterprising Wellington man offers large loans backed by expensive goods as security, writes
Taken from the wealthy and broke: a 30-foot boat, a 1962 E-type Jaguar, a 1970s barbershop chair. A set of bagpipes. If it’s worth something, Kevin Garner will have it. And he’ll loan you thousands for it, for nothing but a monthly fee.
Garner is one of the few high-end pawnbrokers in New Zealand, and he’s far from a shopfront of last resort. He’s no loan shark preying on the vulnerable, Garner’s business attracts a specific clientele and is regulated by law.
‘‘New Zealand is like the rest of the world, there’s a lot of asset-rich people who are cash-poor. They’ve made the money, gone and bought the baubles,’’ Garner says.
A stocky, chatty Briton who wears cufflinks marked ‘‘buy’’ and ‘‘sell’’, Garner operates Premier Pawnbrokers out of a first-floor office in a refurbished building in Lower Hutt.
His eye for value and penchant for history are apparent. From his pocket he retrieves a 22-carat gold coin, so worn he’s unsure of its origins – ‘‘it might be Roman’’ – but to him it’s lucky, nonetheless. Hanging on the off-white walls is an impressionist painting by Paul Riley, worth $5000 but not for sale.
‘‘I do get attached,’’ Garner says.
The store is not a shopfront, like a sad secondhand store, he insists, but some items are on display. All manner of jewellery is housed in three cabinets, alongside an 18th century silverware tea set, and a Chanel handbag which retails at $8000.
Behind the front counter sits his wife, Jeanette, arranging a payment plan to get a customer back on track. ‘‘No worries,’’ she says into a microphone jutting from an earpiece.
Hidden from the view of a curious reporter, or anyone else for that matter, are pawned possessions stored in a back room, a vault down the hall, and at an undisclosed storage facility for the cars, bikes and boats.
Also unseen: lawnmowers, dusty golf clubs or used electronics. It’s no Cash Converters, but is this still a destination for those in dire straits with something valuable to hock? Garner is adamant, everything he does is legal – and helpful.
‘‘Pawnbroking has a stigma, but it’s changing,’’ he says. ‘‘We’re office-based, our clients come from all walks of life, and we offer discretion. We offer speed and convenience.
‘‘Basically, somebody can walk in here with a Rolex watch and within half an hour they can be walking out with $7000.’’
As a point of reference, Garner cites the British documentary series Posh Pawn which – as the preview shorts on TVNZ used to put it – follows the ‘‘eye-watering deals’’ and expanding empire of pawnbroking ‘‘king’’ James Constantinou.
Garner distances himself from the US equivalent Pawn Stars, which follows a family of overweight Las Vegas pawnbrokers and their parade of bolshie customers with goods that don’t pass the Antique Roadshow standard.
Atrip back to Britain sparked Garner’s interest in the trade. The Global Financial Crisis had hit the wallets of big spenders, and where banks weren’t willing to lend, high-end pawnbrokers were flourishing.
Now his customers fly from Auckland and Christchurch, drive from New Plymouth and Palmerston North. ‘‘We do the deal, and then we’ll go for coffee, for breakfast, and then they fly back to Auckland that day.’’
And they’re not who you might expect. Among his clientele are salespeople waiting for their commission, a tradesman working for a builder who went bust, small business owners looking to pay staff between jobs. Garner doesn’t care whether that person has good credit, bad credit, or no credit. ‘‘I’m looking at that asset.’’
In recent weeks, he’s had a Harley Davidson motorbike through the door. And he once had a Foxton woman produce a painting by master forger Carl Feodor Goldie, who adopted the more famous Goldie’s name and replicated his work.
Garner was tempted and inquired with auctioneers Dunbar Sloane: was the forgery still worth something? It wasn’t.
To pawn an item, it first has to be worth something. Take, for example, a ring worth $1000 – Garner will lend you just as much against it. He keeps the ring, and charges a monthly ‘‘redemption fee’’, a pawnbroker’s primary source of income.
The monthly fee for such a ring: $49.50. But a ring is small and easy to store – if you want Garner to hold onto your 30-foot launch, you’ll receive both a larger loan and larger monthly fee.
Garner wards off any idea he deals in stolen goods. Pawnbrokers are required to be registered, and take photo ID, name, address and phone numbers when entering a loan agreement.
‘‘If that item turns out to be stolen, we’ve got all their details anyway to give to the police. So, the criminal will be stupid coming here and trying to sell it to us.’’
All of this is regulated by law, the Secondhand Dealers and Pawnbrokers Act, which deems a standard contract lasts three months.
If at this point Garner doesn’t hear back from a customer, he contacts them and puts the item up for auction. Once it is sold, he takes his redemption fee, a 10 per cent cut on top of that.
‘‘Anything beyond that, 90 per cent, goes back to the client . . . if they don’t come and collect that within six months, then we’re entitled to keep that as well.’’
Only 12 in every 100 customers fail to return the loan.
Once, he says, people would see his type as a last-resort lender. Now, ‘‘we get clients who see us as a first-resort lender.’’
‘‘New Zealand is like the rest of the world, there’s a lot of asset-rich people who are cash-poor. They’ve made the money, gone and bought the baubles.’’
– Kevin Garner