The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - The Telegraph Magazine
Meet the Henrys
Aka the High Earners Not Rich Yet.
After the Boomers, the Yuppies, the Sloanes, the Dinkys (dual income no kids yet), the Oinks (one income no kids) and the hipsters – for such has been the pocket history of demographic nicknames since the 1980s – come the Henrys. Not Hooray Henry and his toff mates, but Henry the acronym: high earner, not rich yet.
Henrys are a mostly urban-dwelling, mostly millennial group who make enough money to afford the trappings of luxury. But the group is distinguished from Dinkys and Oinks in that they still feel broke. In the US, it’s anyone who earns between $100,000 and $250,000 a year; in the UK, it’s someone with an income of £70,000 and up, or a household income of £200,000-plus.
A Henry could be almost anyone who feels flush on payday, yet knows they haven’t achieved anywhere near the financial security to claim true wealth. They’re making money and spending it almost as fast as it comes in – on rent, travel, luxury goods, boutique fitness classes and premium experiences – but don’t have the financial security of savings, investments or owning a house (at least not the house they want).
‘They’re on the road to true affluence,’ says Pamela Danziger, an American market researcher who wrote the book – two of them, actually – on Henrys. ‘Not every Henry becomes an ultra-affluent [person], but almost every ultra-affluent begins as a Henry.’
Income, not geography, defines a Henry, but higher earning power combined with out-of-reach property prices in urban areas means you tend to find the highest concentrations in cities. Although most current Henry analysis has been focused on New Yorkers, experts agree this is a global phenomenon. It embraces high earners in the UK, European and Asian capitals just as much as Manhattanites.
A Henry could be a 20-something strategy consultant in London intent on getting his hands on a pair of Louis Vuitton Horizon earphones. Or she could be an Amsterdambased fashion designer in her early 30s. ‘That could totally be me,’ one woman (who doesn’t wish to be named) tells me, wide-eyed with recognition, when I explain the Henry definition. ‘I have my own brand with 14 staff. I can buy the designer clothes that I like and just about travel business class, but there’s no way I could afford the house I want.’
‘It’s very applicable to Londoners,’ says Nicole (not her real name), a 28-year-old who earns over £100,000 as a solicitor at a City firm. ‘There’s a whole generation of people who are fortunate to earn high salaries, but there are so many things that seem out of reach for us that weren’t out of reach for the generation before us. Like housing. We’re kind of left out of that.’ Nicole rents a onebedroom flat after years of flat-sharing. ‘Even if there’s a point where I’ll be able to afford a deposit, would I be able to afford a flat I would actually like, in an area I would actually like?’
Instead of a mortgage, Nicole spends on clothing (‘At work, a polished look is very much expected, but I don’t go crazy with it’) and holidays. ‘Travel is a big thing. It’s just so incredibly easy to travel internationally. My parents definitely never travelled like I do.’
How do you spot a Henry? It helps to know what you’re looking for. Where Sloanes had bows, pearls, twinsets and Alice bands that anyone could recognise as symbols of their sheer Sloaniness, Henry status symbols are more subtle. ‘The signals of aspiration and upward mobility have drastically changed,’ Ohio-based digital branding expert Web Smith wrote in his definitive Henry deep-dive for 2PM, his media-commerce newsletter. ‘It was once a turned-up collar, it is now a strategic subtlety.’
‘We work extremely hard, in demanding professions,’ says Jenny Castillo, a 33-yearold Washington, DC lawyer and self-proclaimed Henry (who is unusual in that she owns her own home), ‘so sometimes we like to treat ourselves.’ Through her @jennythehenry Instagram feed, Castillo shares photos of herself wearing Chanel and Moschino, enjoying resorts in Peru (where she travelled for a women bloggers’ retreat) and Jamaica, and simply sipping coffee in attractive DC venues (a typical caption: ‘@dupontcirchotel
‘We work extremely hard, in demanding professions, so we like to treat ourselves’
remains my favorite for coffee and aesthet- ics’). Her self-rewards include travel, enjoying the best restaurants with her husband – and accessories. ‘I’m a handbag girl. I love Chanel and Louis… But keep in mind that this is the highlight reel of my life. I’m also an attorney and I work all the time.’
Back in the UK, Henrys can be found in The Wing and Shoreditch House, London members’ clubs they join as much for the clout by association as for need of a co-working space. They eat out at Gloria, the Shoreditch trattoria where everyone knows to order cacio e pepe dished up in a huge wheel of pecorino – for Instagram if not for actual consumption. And they can also be spotted at the airport, namely Heathrow’s Terminal 5.
Because to say that Henrys like to travel is an understatement. They ascribe to travel a semi-mystical power to confer meaning and communicate personal value to their peers. And travel is an intangible status symbol that informs more tangible ones. The only reason to buy a £770 cabin bag from Rimowa, the Lvmh-owned luggage brand, when a £35 one will do the same job, is an awareness of what owning that bag says to people who clock it in the boarding queue.
Any Henry airport look would have to include Apple Airpod Pros (or those Vuitton Horizons). A quilted jacket or vest from Prada, Canada Goose or even Uniqlo (preferably the JW Anderson collaboration). Cartier Love or Juste un Clou bangles for her, a San- tos watch for him. A Palace or Comme des Garçons Play T-shirt. Stealth-status trainers from Veja, Axel Arigato, Common Projects or the sold-out Reformation x New Balance collaboration. A Christian Dior Book tote or Goyard shopper (either is fine, as long as it’s monogrammed). Lucas Hugh or Lululemon leggings. Chaos personalised phone accessories. And of course some high-end luggage, such as that Rimowa bag.
‘The Rimowa collaboration with Dior was huge for us,’ notes Sophie Quy, commercial director for Threads Styling, the flagship shopping platform for Henrys and already arrived high-net-worth millennials. Threads doesn’t have a bricks-and-mortar store, or an app or a website; instead the business model is based on dozens of personal shoppers waiting to fulfil luxury wishes and fashion dreams via Whatsapp.
‘Our clients are young, global and travelling all the time. In life they just want the best… They want to show that they love fashion and that they know what’s new, and we help them do that in a frictionless way.’
Hot on Threads right now is anything from Daniel Lee’s new Bottega Veneta collection, the Prada nylon hobo and crossbody bag re-editions, and Eera diamond adorned chain-link earrings. As with the more mainstream Henry gear, it’s mostly subtly branded merch, chosen – consciously or not – to signal awareness.
This high level of engagement with luxury newness is what makes Henrys so compelling to brands. They’re the consumers behind the current luxury era, the shoppers that legacy brands are most eager to reach, and the ones whose spending habits and preferences will set the tone for mass marketing for years to come.
If you’re getting a picture of Henrys that makes it sound like this all has to do with keeping up on Instagram – well, it wasn’t always this way. The term has been around since 2008, when Fortune writer Shawn Tully coined it to describe two-earner families who bring home big salaries but, due to taxes, mortgages, school fees and high household expenses, never feel they’ve really arrived. Now the term refers to anyone who collects a hefty pay cheque without being rich, in the sense of having accrued wealth. It’s this perception of not being wealthy despite earning objectively high salaries – and the attitudes that come with that – that distinguishes Henrys from their parents.
‘My clients have different priorities generationally,’ says Scott Tindle, founder and director of wealth management at Tindle Wealth. His firm is the first UK wealth manager to target younger higher-end Henrys – he says slightly over half of his clients are under 40, with household earnings of £200,000 (or more).
‘The older people with accumulated wealth are thinking about how that wealth is going to see them out for the rest of their lives and what sort of legacy they would like to leave. The younger generation has to balance their priorities. They might be thinking about how to upgrade to a five-bedroom home, and how to fund some private education for their kids.
‘They’re aware that there are a lot of different pieces to their financial lives, but there’s nobody out there speaking to them about how to bring all those various parts together.’
A ski trip to Courchevel, a Bottega Veneta Cassette bag and birthday dinner for eight at Decimo may sound nice, but Tindle has some different suggestions for any Henry looking to put his or her financial house in order. First, stash away a three-month cash safety net. Second, eliminate bad debt. Third, invest in stocks, or let money grow in a high-interest bank account.
Maybe you’re a hardworking Henry, reading this and bristling at being lumped together with peers whose priorities you disdain. Well, for everyone hesitant to embrace the label, there’s someone eager to claim it. Like Castillo, the DC lawyer. ‘I think the term Henry is positive,’ she says. ‘It speaks of promise and refers to where you may be in the future, in that little “yet”.’
Sure, Castillo could save her pennies, skip a few adventures and maybe feel rich sooner, if still not quite yet. But that perspective fails to understand the enjoyment and meaning Henrys derive from material goods and immaterial experiences. But then, I would say that, wouldn’t I? I love travel, can’t help but Instagram an attractive scene, definitely qualify as millennial, know my Axel Arigatos from my Vejas. And of course I feel skint a week after payday; I’m a journalist, a Henry in every measure except salary.
Which, in light of the way so many Henrys have an almost-there sense of making it, seems a very Henry feeling indeed.