After many years in the property industry I thought it time to reflect on my experiences and the people I have met.
The young estate agent: a raging mess of hormones and conflicting interests. They talk the market up like a puppy but weep at night as without a correction they will never be a FTB (see below) themselves. Have been known to choose flight over fight and go off to sell private jets, because that’s a well-diversified industry.
The middle aged estate agent: the ultimate fantasists. Their most valuable asset is their house, their only source of income a buoyant property market. Even when the four horses of the apocalypse arrive (interest rates rises, SDLT, over supply, no Chinese buyers) they’ll be talking up the market.
The retiring estate agent: cynical and fatalistic, but they can afford to be. They have bought wisely over the years buying townhouses long ago for less than their junior colleagues paid for a studio. Also incredibly smug if they sold their company to one of the big firms at the top of the market.
Provincial town estate agent: in choppy waters and burdened with exorbitant rightmove fees. Best case scenario is a cameo appearance on Homes Under the Hammer.
The buying agent: charming and knowledgeable but, despite their claims, they always act in their own best interests. Supposedly essential in a rising market so you don’t overpay and in a falling market to identify the bargains but ultimately their income is based on transaction numbers. My advice is to go on an expensive holiday, spend half your time online investigating your chosen market and buy yourself. It’ll be cheaper.
The first time buyer: a rare species (especially if they graduated during the GFC or since). Almost totally reliant on Bank of Mum & Dad or Help to Buy. The former will mean Zone 2 (so their parents can come and stay without being stabbed), the latter will mean anywhere with a hipster coffee shop nearby. So anywhere from Zones 1 to 8.