My then husband and I are self made millionaires - we worked our butts off putting ourselves through business school and law school to give ourselves marketable skills. All we were mostly concerned about was not having to worry about being able to buy groceries when we were hungry. We watched in despair when our friends bought houses and fancy cars - we were still in school, and we’d do stuff like buy a cheap cut of meat and throw it in the crock pot to tenderize it. For snacks, we made BBQ Sauce Sandwiches- which was day old bread we froze and defrosted to make soft again, and spread some BBQ sauce on. I lived on $.45 bagels at the school’s convenience store and an apple for lunch. A bottle of Snapple was really fancy. My eyes would well up with tears as I fished through thrift stores to buy clothes, and my husband would say, “it’s OK. Our friends are investing in things that will depreciate. We are investing in ourselves. 10 years from now, they’ll be in the same place, we will have more opportunities.”

I had gotten used to living in sweatpants and T-shirts - it was comfortable and I wasn’t out to impress anyone. Years later, I was a gainfully employee trial attorney, and my husband was a Senior Management Consultant and Systems Architect with one of the largest consulting firms in the US. We bought a house in Manhattan Beach, Ca, and my husband was looking at buying a Beech Bonanza plane, as he was already a IFR rated pilot. Despite our success, I continued to dress in baggy sweats when I didn’t have to be anywhere. I had suits for work, but as soon as I got home, the shoes came off and I changed out of the suit.

Smart car for 2 came to the US. We were watching TV, and I exclaimed, “Look how cute that is! I love it!” My husband said, “It’s cute, you can go get one if you want.” I had cash to pay for it, so the next day I went to Beverly Hills Mercedes, where they had a few. I wasn’t thinking anything about it, so I had on my classy uniform of baggy white sweatpants and a T-shirt from a marathon I ran in and a pair of flip flops. My nails were done, and I did have on my Rolex, but my nails are always done, and I always wear my Rolex so it wasn’t like I dressed up for the occasion. I saw an adorable yellow convertible Smart on the showroom floor, found a salesman and excitedly said, “I want to buy that car, is it available?” He said, “yes, it is” and kept on walking. I was kind of confused. Most time you need a stick to beat these guys off of you.

Another salesman came by and I said, “I want to buy that car, and the last salesman just blew me off.” He said, “You’ve been here a while, and no one’s helped you?” I said, “No, maybe it’s because of my fancy outfit.” He said, “that doesn’t matter.” He asked if I have good credit, and I said, “My credit is awesome, but I’m not financing, I’m just going to pay for it.” He handed me a form to check my credit and asked me to complete it. I asked, “Why? I’m not financing the car, I have cash.” (I had a preapproval letter from my credit union, just in case.). He just looked at me and said, “We make everyone fill one of these out and run credit checks.” I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Is it because you don’t want riff-raff in your cars?” He said, “Well, yeah.” I said, “that’s really stupid, I’m not financing, so there’s no need for this, but I’ll fill out your dumb form.” He left with my form into an office for about 1/2 an hour, and I was starting to think that they’re making it really hard for me to want to do business with them.

When he came back, he said, “why didn’t you tell me you have such good credit. Your score is unheard of.” Dang it if he didn’t start showing me large Mercedes Benz sedans, and a car I had not heard of before then - a Maybach. I told him they’re nice cars, but it’s not what I want and I’m going to be really mad if the one I want gets sold because he’s trying to upsell me a car I don’t want. He kept saying, “why do you want the Smart you can have a Maybach?” I told him he’s an idiot, and I have no desire for a Maybach.

So, I did the paperwork for the convertable Smart, and again he tried to get me to finance it. Again I said, “No financing, I’m paying cash, and that’s how I keep my score up, I don’t like paying money plus interest, and I hate bills nagging me. And I don’t like you insisting that you run my credit, when you have no need to.” I called my bank and had them do the financial arrangements and drove home in my Smart. But, believe me, that dealership really made me not want the car anymore. I just kept telling myself, “this is just a few hours that I have to deal with them, and I’ll have my cute car.”

If that fool salesman would have looked at my hands and saw I had a 5 carat diamond ring on one, (an 8th anniversary present) diamond earrings (understated), an expensive watch on one hand, a designer handbag, he might have picked up that I had some means to purchase a car. Instead he saw sweatpants and a ponytail, minimal makeup and flip flops so assumed I couldn’t buy a car from their dealership. It reminds me of how despite his wealth, Sam Walton still drove his old pick up truck.

When you actually do have money, you don’t buy things to show that you’re wealthy, you have money, and don’t care about what designer made your underwear. Something I learned when I was in sales, is to check out people’s shoes. They may be painting the house or pulling weeds, but a wealthy person, even on their day off, generally won’t wear cheaply made shoes.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=4029226&forum_id=2#36451742)