How about the order of the double cross?

Why squander your hard-earned crores on yet another European vacation, where you'll pay 12 for a coffee in Vienna, when you could, instead, invest in something infinitely more enduring: a foreign award, preferably with a sash, medal and a title that sounds like it was invented by a committee of baroque poets. Imagine the metamorphosis. One week you're just another billionaire desi fumbling with phrasebooks, the next, you're Sir Vikram of the Order of the Golden Possum, bestowed by a grateful microstate whose GDP is smaller than that of a Vasant Kunj mall. Forget Instagram posts of Santorini sunsets, your LinkedIn descriptor now reads 'Knight Commander of the Order of Civil Brilliance'. That, my friend, is RoI.

Luxury handbags depreciate, sports cars break down, Tuscan villas require plumbing. But an award? Eternal. It glitters, silences boring in-laws, and ensures your obituary will be read with awe. 'Recipient of the Double Cross' has a gravitas no Gulfstream can match. The market is booming. For the price of a Parisian weekend, you can acquire a medal from a Micronesian microbrewery, a ribbon from a British (jam) preservation society, and an honorary doctorate from a university whose acronyms will do the trick. It may seem the ultimate hack: prestige without effort, honour without achievement. But, sorry, it's not everyone who can afford it.