I’ve often wondered what I would do if I won the EuroMillions jackpot. In those moments of procrastination throughout the day – and believe me, there are many – it’s a daydream I regularly fall into. What would I give to friends and family? Which dream holiday would I go on first? How much money would I realistically have to win in order to buy a home in London that’s not in zone 84 with a bed directly above the cooker? All of which is to say, I think I’m something of an expert on the subject matter. I’m not sure if I’d actually tell people I’d won the jackpot – but there would be signs. What would I spend my money on in my first week as a EuroMillions winner? I’m so glad you asked.
I think my main goal is to live one of those soft and gentle lives you see blasted all over TikTok, so my first port of call is day-to-day travel and I’m going big: I want to buy a tube carriage on every Victoria line train. I like to think I’d remain modest, down to earth and humble if I won a life-changing chunk of money, so you wouldn’t catch me paying for chauffeur-driven cars or anything like that. I’ll happily take the tube. I just don’t want to be shoved under a stranger’s armpit at 9:30am on a Monday morning while basking in the aroma of someone’s Saturday night rosé breath that they’ve tried to conceal with a double espresso, all while stewing in a climate identical to the seventh circle of hell. A personal tube carriage should do the trick. I’m thinking a couple of sofas, some decorative cushions, the fancy incense from Diptyque. I might even buy some LED screens to cover the windows and make it look like I’m frolicking through the Swiss countryside instead of hurtling towards the darkest depths of central London. Phase one of living a gentle life, complete!
Next up is living arrangements. Sure, I might not be able to complete the purchase of a home in my first week as a EuroMillions winner, but I can start drawing up plans for what that home might include. I’m thinking a trampoline room (I heard Bill Gates has one and I don’t see why he gets to have all the fun), a freestanding bathtub that guests could easily mistake for a decent-sized swimming pool, and a den in the basement fitted with a bar, a sunken sofa pit because I always thought they were the HEIGHT of glamour when I was a child, and a bunch of vintage arcade games. Remember the dance machine we were all obsessed with in the noughties? I used to be able to do it backwards as a teen for the grannies playing the 2p machines and I’d quite like to relive those glory days.
The big necessity, though? A true to size replica of the Gladiators eliminator assault course. I assume it’ll be tricky to find somewhere in London with a room big enough to house this, but it’s at the top of my priority list and I’m hoping that the EuroMillions jackpot can open some doors.
Next item on the list is a keepsake, something I can hang in pride of place when my new house is ready: Princess Diana’s “revenge dress”. I’m sorry, but that is a slice of HISTORY. It recently sold for $65,000, a drop in the ocean for a EuroMillions winner. I would consider buying the wedding dress too, but that feels a little over the top. I might be rich, but I want to remain demure, obviously.
Of course, I’d be generous with my money, especially to my nearest and dearest. Using my best Oprah impression, it’d be a lot of: “You get a car. You get a car.” But considering I’m keeping my win on the DL, when it comes to those I don’t count in my inner circle, I’d simply volunteer to pay the rogue £13.27 that’s always remaining when a large group eat out and decide to “only pay for what I had”, but conveniently forget to add the service charge to their calculations. No more sitting for 40 minutes waiting for someone to ‘fess up, a weight off everybody’s shoulders.
With the basics sorted, I’m turning to my true passion – tea. And I don’t mean English breakfast. No, I mean burning hot gossip – and I’m going straight for the juicy stuff. What’s in the government dossier on aliens? Was the moon landing actually fake? Is there audio of Beyoncé, Solange and Jay-Z’s infamous elevator ride and, if so, where is it? While we’re at it, Beyoncé, where are the visuals for Renaissance, because I’ll pay for those too.
Finally, they say on the seventh day that God rested and so too shall I. Exhausted from my first week of being one of the only Londoners not in their overdraft, I’m thinking a spa day is in order. In Bali. With a piña colada in a coconut. While Tom Hardy reads me his CBeebies bedtime story. Or Chris Evans, I’m not fussy. I don’t think I’m asking for much, really.
