You know how you sometimes check your bank balance and think, “Well, at least I’m not in debt”? That’s a feeling the third richest person in the world has never experienced. While you’re deciding between the generic brand cereal and the name-brand one, this person is probably deciding between buying a private island or a football club. Let’s take a casual, slightly jealous stroll through the wallet of the person who sits in the bronze medal position of global wealth.
As of right now, that spot belongs to Bernard Arnault, the French king of luxury goods. He’s the chairman of LVMH, the company that owns Louis Vuitton, Dior, Tiffany & Co., and about seventy other brands that make your credit card weep. Think of him as the guy who charges five thousand dollars for a handbag that doesn’t even come with a pocket for your phone. And people thank him for it.
Your Life vs. His Life
Imagine you’re at the grocery store. You see a jar of fancy jam for fifteen bucks. You put it back because you remember you have a half-eaten jar of grape jelly at home. Bernard Arnault doesn’t put things back. He buys the company that makes the jam, then sells you the spoon for two hundred dollars. That’s the difference between us and the third richest person.
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You probably own a pair of Levi’s jeans that cost sixty bucks. He owns the company that makes the silk lining inside a two-thousand-dollar suit. You worry about the price of gas. He worries about the price of cashmere. He’s not living in the same economy as you. He’s living in an economy where a “budget friendly” item is a five-hundred-dollar scarf.
The “Oops, I Bought a Country” Anecdote
Here’s a story that makes you smile and wince at the same time. In 2021, Bernard Arnault bought a controlling stake in a vineyard worth, oh, just a casual half a billion dollars. For context, that’s about the cost of five thousand of those fancy jam jars I mentioned earlier. When you buy a house, you celebrate with a new sofa. When he buys a vineyard, he probably says, “Well, I needed a place to store my other vine yards.”
But the funniest part? He didn’t even need the wine. He already owns Château d’Yquem, one of the most famous wine estates in the world. It’s like buying a second fridge because the first one is too full of gold. He’s the guy who has a backup everything. A backup plane. A backup yacht. A backup country house.
Top 10 richest people in the world as per forbes – Artofit
The Real Secret: He Sells Dreams (and Overpriced Canvas)
You don’t get to be the third richest person by selling bread and milk. Margins are too thin. No, you sell status. You sell the feeling that wearing a logo makes you part of a club that doesn’t actually want you at the meetings. Bernard Arnault has mastered the art of convincing millions of people that a basic cotton t-shirt is worth three hundred dollars because it has a tiny, embroidered bee on it. That is a spiritual level of salesmanship.
And let’s be honest, you’ve probably fallen for it. Maybe not the bee shirt, but maybe that one handbag you saved for. Or that pair of sunglasses that cost more than your rent. That money, that little piece of your paycheck, eventually finds its way into his pocket. You helped make him the third richest man in the world. You’re welcome, Bernard.
Meanwhile, he’s sitting in a Parisian office that looks like a museum, having a meeting about whether to make next year’s handbag handles slightly thicker. And you’re at home, looking at your credit card statement, thinking, “I regret nothing.” That’s the beautiful, insane cycle of capitalism.
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The “Poor” Third Guy
It’s worth noting that being the third richest is a bit of a weird position. You’re not the top dog. You’re not Elon Musk (who sometimes seems like he’s trying to throw his money into outer space). You’re not Jeff Bezos (who is busy building a space clock that will outlast humanity). You’re Bernard Arnault. You’re the quiet, well-dressed guy in the corner of the billionaire club who just keeps stacking cash while the other two argue about rockets. He’s the sensible one. The one who looks at the other billionaires and says, “At least I don’t own a social media platform.”
So, next time you’re digging through the clearance rack at a department store, remember Bernard. He’s not digging. He’s probably having his assistant order a dozen of whatever is on that rack, just in case he ever wants to wear it. And if you ever feel bad about spending fifty bucks on lunch, just think: That’s about 0.00000001% of his income every second. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know your credit score. But he knows your love for a good brand.
And honestly? He’s betting on it. And he’s winning. Cheers to the bronze medalist of money—the guy who reminds us that even at the very top, there’s always someone with just a few more commas in their bank account.