Cards on the table: most women have, at some point, entertained the fantasy of landing a rich guy.

Not the, ‘owns two properties in the suburbs’ kind of rich. I’m talking serious wealth. A private jet. A bottle of Dom Perignon on a casual Tuesday. A guy who sends a car, not a text that says, ‘u up?’

I’ll admit, when the opportunity to date one presented itself to me – in the form of a well-known, very wealthy and very persistent older man – I thought, ‘Stuff it, let’s give it a go.’

I leaned in and, in the process, I learned exactly what it takes to snag yourself a sugar daddy.

So, here’s my play-by-play on how I did it – and why I eventually walked away.

Step 1: Know the Product (Hint: It’s You)

Rich men shop for women the way they shop for cars. 

They’re looking at the quality of finish, miles on the clock and running costs. They want someone who looks polished, but is low maintenance. You must charm their mates, laugh at their jokes and never upstage them.

I’m talking serious wealth. A private jet. A bottle of Dom Perignon on a casual Tuesday. A guy who sends a car, not a text that says, ‘u up?’

I’ll admit, when the opportunity to date a rich guy presented itself to me – in the form of a well-known, very wealthy and very persistent older man – I thought, ‘Stuff it, let’s give it a go.’

If you tick those boxes, doors swing open.

Translation: invest in grooming, have a decent party trick, show interest in their war stories and keep your Instagram semi-PG – you’re auditioning for the role of Trophy Wife, not a slot on Love Island.

Step 2: Master the Lifestyle

You must glide through the five-star world without looking star-struck.

Know the wine list. Recognize caviar without reading the menu. Pronounce your words meticulously. Pretend private jet turbulence bores you.

If you can’t bluff that confidence, it’s game over. So, dive into the ‘stealth wealth’ TikTok accounts and get scrolling, there’s plenty of handy tips there.

Step 3: Accept the Hoops

There will be rules.

• Last-minute plan changes because his schedule matters more.

• His friends first, yours optional.

• A wardrobe that flatters him as much as you.

Fix a grin on your face and act grateful. This is all part of the unspoken deal. Did we just step back in time to the 1950s? Yep, we sure did. Say goodbye to female empowerment. You just handed over your rights for a pair of Louboutins. Time to get used to the tradwife life.

You must glide through the five-star world without looking star-struck.

Step 4: Maintenance

Keeping one of these blokes interested is a full-time job. Botox, boob jobs, expensive hair extensions, waxing, personal trainers, Ozempic, repeat.

It stops being a romance and turns into a brand collaboration: he funds, you decorate.

But be warned, there will always be someone younger, prettier and more savvy vying for his attention.

I remember one night at an event when a gorgeous young woman did hot laps around our table trying to get my man’s attention. I should have been annoyed, but I had to admire her chutzpah. 

It’s a meat market out there, and if you’ve landed yourself a big fatty cut, be prepared to work to keep it.

Step 5: The Reality Check

I thought I was living the dream until I found myself in a ball gown seated between a former Prime Minister and a cricket legend while my boyfriend – 20 years my senior – presented me like his latest trinket.

And there it was, with each handshake, that inescapable micro-flicker of judgment – ‘sugar baby alert.’

I drained flute after flute of champagne to cope with the small talk and the knowledge that I’d be enduring duty sex later, which had started to feel less like intimacy and more like settling an invoice.

When I ducked into the bar and discovered martinis, he sent a text: Time for bed. It read like a father scolding a teenager. When I ignored his texts, he later told me to grow up.

Classic rich man control move – money buys the right to manage you.

Rich men shop for women the way they shop for cars. They want someone who looks polished, but is low maintenance.

Step 6: My Exit Strategy

I cut the cord. I moved back into my own place, picked up my own bar tabs and decided I’d rather pay for flights than fake attraction. Life is short. I want to tear someone’s clothes off because I can’t help myself, not because he booked us the penthouse.

The lesson I learned was that chasing goals beats chasing gold.

Watching extra zeroes appear in an account you built yourself feels a hell of a lot better than having to fake feelings so he’ll buy you baubles.

Since backing myself, I’ve partied in Mykonos, danced ’til sunrise in New York and snogged a scandalously pretty stranger in Paris – all on my own dime and terms.

Diamonds and jets sound dreamy until you check the fine print: old man bad breath, wandering eyes and men who think your bedtime is their decision.

I’ll admit, for a while I enjoyed the perks, and perhaps it’s a right of a passage every woman should experience. But in the end, for me, the cost was just too high.

Give me financial freedom and a solid night’s sleep over being a kept woman any day.