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Forbes
a day ago
- Business
- Forbes
5 Reasons Why The Cotswolds Discreetly Positions For The Next Gen Of Wealth
Picturesque garden in the Cotswold village of Bibury, England Tucked into the heart of south-central England, the Cotswolds is a patchwork of golden-stone villages, rolling hills, and historic estates that stretch across five counties. Designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, it's home to some of the most desirable countryside in the UK. But its charm is more than aesthetic. The Cotswolds has a deep history of agrarian wealth, craft production, and generational stewardship dating back to the medieval wool trade. It is a region that has managed to hold onto both its architectural soul and its social quietness. For centuries, the area has been a haven for landowners, artists, and aristocrats. Today, it is also where you'll find UHNW families, tech billionaires, and creative elites quietly retreating from London, New York, and beyond. But beneath its idyllic surface, the Cotswolds offers something even more relevant: a model of how modern wealth can be managed with discretion, purpose, and permanence. Here are five reasons why this ancient corner of England may just reflect the future of family offices. 1. Stewardship Over Status The Cotswolds is steeped in the philosophy of stewardship. Many of its manor houses have been passed down for generations, often protected under Grade I or II listings that prevent modernization without conservation. Families here do not just own property but they also become caretakers of history. The inheritance is not only financial, it is ecological and cultural. This deep-rooted sense of guardianship aligns with how many family offices are evolving. Rather than pursuing flashy asset growth, today's wealth holders are investing in things built to last: generational foundations, impact-driven portfolios, intergenerational education, and governance frameworks. The model is shifting from patriarch-led empire building to multigenerational stewardship. For example, several UK-based family offices are preserving large country estates not only as homes but as heritage assets. These include art collections, libraries, gardens, and land under conservation. They are working with advisors who understand both tax and legacy and how to balance preservation with access. The Historic Houses Association offers a glimpse into how these homes are maintained as living legacies. 2. The Power of Place The region recently made headlines when Eve Jobs, daughter of Steve Jobs, celebrated her wedding in the Cotswolds. High-profile individuals and friends flew in from around the world for a discreet celebration. The idea of place as an anchor is central to the Cotswolds' appeal. Whether it is a quaint honey-stone weekend cottage or a 100-acre estate, these homes become spaces to gather for family get-togethers, holidays, reunions, and even weddings. A growing number of prominent families are making the Cotswolds their rural base. David and Victoria Beckham own a converted barn near Chipping Norton. Supermodel Kate Moss has long had a home in Little Faringdon. The area attracts people who could live anywhere but choose to put down roots where the pace is slower, the values stronger, and the community deeper. Family offices are increasingly intentional about this kind of place-making. Some are establishing legacy properties designed to host family meetings, retreats, or philanthropic gatherings. Others are converting estates into working farms or rural campuses for education and innovation. A property might host everything from next-gen leadership sessions to elder care planning, offering continuity through shared space. One example is a family office that transforms a historical manor into a multi-use property: part private home, part learning center, part regenerative agricultural hub. Some Cotswolds homeowners are even collaborating with architects who specialize in reimagining heritage spaces for contemporary use. It is not just real estate but building blocks for identity, values, and community. 3. The Rise of Quiet Wealth Despite the influx of high-net-worth residents, the Cotswolds retains an aesthetic of restraint. This is not the Côte d'Azur or Mayfair. Here, wealth reveals itself through craftsmanship, hospitality, and curation—not logos. Today, a new rural lifestyle is emerging. Soho Farmhouse, the countryside outpost of the global private members' club, redefined the region's appeal for the creative class. Estelle Manor, a sprawling club and hotel housed in a restored Grade II-listed mansion, offers a more refined counterpart. And of course, there's the Bamford empire, with Daylesford Organic serving as both farm shop and lifestyle brand for conscious luxury. These are not merely hospitality ventures. They reflect a cultural shift where privacy, purpose, and provenance matter more than conspicuous consumption. Many family offices these days are adopting a similar mindset—investing in local craftsmanship, funding cultural preservation projects, and backing lifestyle ventures that align with their values. Whether it is a next-gen inheritor starting a regenerative skincare brand or a family backing farm-to-table food systems, wealth is becoming quieter, more intentional, and deeply embedded in place. 4. Regenerative Capital in Action The Cotswolds is becoming a living case study in regenerative land use. Farmers, landowners, and entrepreneurs are exploring new models of sustainable agriculture that are both profitable and ecologically restorative. Something that is on the agenda for many countries. One standout example is the regenerative farming project at FarmED in Shipton-under-Wychwood. The site serves as a working farm and education center focused on agroecology, carbon capture, soil health, and sustainable supply chains. It brings together researchers, chefs, students, and investors around the future of food and farming. Family offices are increasingly backing similar initiatives. Some are acquiring land not just to hold, but to heal by rewilding damaged ecosystems, transitioning farmland to organic systems, and creating biodiversity corridors. Others are investing in funds that support climate tech, low-carbon construction, or nature-based solutions. Several are looking to Regeneration International for best practices and global frameworks. This is not philanthropy in disguise but rather capital deployed with long-term thinking, aligned with planetary health and generational wealth. 5. Trust Networks and the New Village Circle While the Cotswolds may be better known for church knitting groups and village fetes, beneath the surface lies a much more sophisticated ecosystem. There are WhatsApp groups for household staff recruitment, local estate managers who function as informal fixers, and an unspoken but tight-knit circle of UHNW families who help each other navigate everything from land disputes to legacy planning. In a world of LinkedIn invites and Zoom introductions, this kind of offline network is rare and deeply valuable. Family offices operate best in high-trust environments where deals, advice, and access flow through curated relationships. As wealth becomes more global and complex, many are returning to the power of proximity. Whether through investment syndicates, peer networks, or regional alliances, family offices are building micro-communities modeled less on corporate structures and more on the village circle. They are personal, purposeful, and enduring. Private introductions, often facilitated by trusted intermediaries such as Campden Wealth, continue to underpin many of the most meaningful collaborations in the family office world. The Case for Strategic Stillness The Cotswolds offers something wealth rarely does: the permission to slow down. Here, stillness is not laziness. It is strategic. It is the walk before the decision. The firelit dinner that resets a sibling relationship. The space where generational conversations finally happen. For family offices navigating complexity and change, this kind of intentional pause is vital. Stillness allows for reflection, recalibration, and recommitment. Whether it happens in a restored farmhouse or a countryside chapel, these moments of clarity may be the most undervalued asset in modern wealth management.
Times
05-07-2025
- Times
My Grand Tour part 1: How I learnt the art of decorum in Paris
'En garde!' I cry, brandishing an épée I don't know how to use. I'm at a fencing club in Paris's Latin Quarter, its walls glinting with sabres and coats of arms. Club members in armchairs watch me with amusement: a swaggering Englishman about to lunge into a Grand Tour of Europe. It'll take a master swordsman to cut me down to size. Unfortunately, I'm up against one. Jean-Pierre de Pinel de la Taule dares me to attack. I spring off the piste; he parries with flicks of his blade. So I advance. 'Go back!' the club's general secretary commands. 'To England?' I ask. 'Eventually, yes,' she retorts. I'm being skewered on all sides. I'm on a two-week odyssey through western Europe, taking in Paris, Geneva, Rome, Venice and Vienna. It's my stab at the Grand Tour, the 17th to 19th-century rite of passage for young aristocrats, such as Shelley and Byron, who wanted to become more cultured. I'm hoping it'll give me finesse, once I stop tripping over my own feet. Thankfully Jean-Pierre, spry at 82, corrects my footwork and shows me how to beat and trap blades. Lesson over, we salute and bow. He tells me that the club, Salle d'Armes Coudurier, Paris's oldest fencing hall, is under threat ( I wonder how Parisians will settle disputes without it. • Discover our full guide to Paris Starting their journey to Paris, many aristos were sick on the ferry from Dover. I too felt queasy crossing the Channel — I had eaten an ignoble quantity of cheese in my first class carriage on the Eurostar. At Gare du Nord my chauffeur, Alain Cacheux, picked me up in a vintage Citroën DS: stylish and high on horsepower, it was the closest I could find to a Grand Tourist's cabriolet (£137 an hour; The roof stayed shut. Black clouds were marbling the sky and Paris was soon strafed by hailstones the size of macarons. 'I've never seen weather like this!' Cacheux shouted. I watched, monarch-like, as chic Parisians were papier-mâchéd by wet leaves. We arrived at Le Bristol, named after the 4th Earl of Bristol, a Grand Tourist with exacting standards. The hotel lives up to them, from its courtyard garden to its ancien-régime-style suites. With chandeliers and baroque furniture, mine was so gorgeous I nearly swooned. Good thing there was a chaise longue to catch me. Le Bristol is on Rue du Faubourg St Honoré, where mansions sprang up when Louis XIV's court moved to Paris from Versailles in 1715, bringing etiquette with it. These rules still govern France's elite — now wielded in boardrooms, not ballrooms. To prepare me for my social elevation, Thomas Ka, an etiquette guru, has summoned me to his decorum dojo. • Best hotels in Paris Only in France can ignoring someone count as good manners and gifting wine be considered an insult. 'It's like saying, 'Your wine is not good; I've brought my own,'' says Ka, the founder of the finishing school En Toute Élégance (from £80 an hour; drilling me in dinner party etiquette. And if someone sneezes, don't bless them — blank them. Anything else, Ka explains, would draw attention to the fact it happened. 'I'm teaching you not to jump into traps,' he says as our food arrives. How hard can this be, I think, preparing to slice a tomato. 'Your knife will not touch your salad,' Ka snaps. I set my knife down, switch my fork to my right hand, delicately prong a chip and slowly move it to my mouth. Now I'm in for it. My knife's bladed edge is facing Ka, a signal of hostility. He bears the insult with patience. Two hundred years ago he would have had me horsewhipped. Ka moves on to feudal foreplay: the baisemain, or hand-kiss. 'It's for married women, in private places,' he warns (unless the woman is gloved and standing in front of a church). 'You must kiss but not kiss, touch but not touch,' he instructs. His voice thins to a whisper. 'It takes guts. You've just got to do it.' • Great affordable hotels in Paris And, as we bid farewell, he does do it — kissing my hand so softly I blush like a debutante. Touché, fencers: Ka doesn't need a weapon to disarm a man. While etiquette lessons prepared aristocrats for leadership, knowledge of art conferred cultural bragging rights. But not all tourists appreciated Paris's oeuvre. 'In general rubbish to 'em,' harrumphed the English playwright David Garrick of its collections in 1751. I'm more receptive on my private tour of Musée d'Orsay, which opens with a luminous nude (private tours from £266; 'What do you see?' asks my cicerone, Hugo Loyon, as we ponder La Source by Ingres: a painting of a damsel with an urn. 'Probably not just a naked lady,' I say, sensing intellectual ambush. 'Oui,' he purrs. 'It's an idea.' The subject is naked, but veiled in allegory. There's nothing realistic about her: her skin glows like bone china and her posture is classical. She and her urn are symbols of nature and fertility. • Where to eat in Paris These themes were approved by the Académie Royale, founded in 1648, which insisted art be idealistic, pious, didactic — a cordon sanitaire between patrons and the masses they instructed. But as we near modernity, rebellion brews: artists reject elite ideals for personal expression. The vestal canvas is defiled with lurid strokes of colour; abstract sculpture loosens the elite's monopoly on meaning by inviting the viewer to supply their own. Life imitates art. By 1789, revolution grips France. The Académie is suppressed and toffs like me are abridged on the guillotine. But liberty's triumph over superstition doesn't bring heaven on earth. Instead my tour ends at The Gates of Hell, Rodin's 20th-century labour in plaster. Human figures writhe, reach, suffer — each representing a torment: lust, rage, longing. It's modern man, stripped of guiding faith. No longer looking upwards, he turns inward. I leave on the 18.18 to Geneva. In the dining car, I lift my soup spoon … and pause. Is this the one for consommé? I half expect Ka to burst in and swat it from my hand. But no one is there. Just my reflection in the window, the outline of mountains rising in the dusk. Jack Ling was a guest of Byway, which has ten nights' B&B from £2,423pp, including rail tickets and accommodation ( and Le Bristol, which has room-only doubles from £1,860 (
