Barefoot banking

       Given this is our first Barefoot Date Night, I want you to go out for dinner and really treat yourself.

      I'm serious.

      Get ready to buy the best thing on the menu and have a nice glass of wine (or two).

      Why?

      Because you're about to start saving money.

      When I wrote this book, people were being charged $477 a year … or thousands of dollars over a decade. And in half an hour's work I showed them how to banish bank fees from their life forever.

      Now it's your turn.

      That's right, you'll never have to worry about sticking your card in a so-called foreign ATM and getting the banking equivalent of herpes (if you go to a non-bank ATM you could be hit with the dreaded $2 ‘FU fee').

      What you're going to do is set up the accounts that will form the backbone of the Barefoot Steps, allowing you to automate your day-to-day finances to the point that you'll be able to manage your money in around 10 minutes a week.

      Literally, while you're having your ‘wine time', you're going to set up your new zero-fee accounts via the wonder of the mobile phone.

      Most people never get around to doing this. Instead, they flick through a finance book and put it back on the shelf — but not you. Never underestimate yourself with a drink in your hand.

Of course, this will mean making some changes to your current banking arrangements.

      Here's you: Ugh! You want me to change my bank accounts? I really … can't be bothered.

      Here's me: Your current bank account is a lot like your last boyfriend. You knew he was a bit of a dud, that he was draining you and that he was never going to change. Your current bank account is also draining you: the average Australian household gets whacked with $395 in bank fees each year (according to the Reserve Bank). Over 10 years that's $3950 — enough to take you to New York City and stay at a five-star hotel.

      Here's you: Yeah, but I have all my direct debits set up. It would be such a pain …

      Here's me: The real pain comes from dealing with a bank that slugs you with all sorts of annoying fees, and having to think about it.

      Plus, switching isn't a big deal. If you call your bank they'll give you a list of all your direct debits over the past 13 months. And your new bank should bend over backwards (or at least limbo a little) to get your business. Often they'll have templates and other hacks that you can email to your existing billers.

      Anyway, I think of it like this: having an awesome bank account is a self-confidence thing. It's the little wins — the habits you build — that strengthen your confidence.

      Or think of it like surfing: sure, you have to paddle a bit at the start (with a freaking wine in your hand), but once you catch that wave, you can relax and let it carry you home.

      How did you get your current bank account?

      Maybe it was your parents' bank.

      Maybe it was bundled with your home loan (they probably called it a ‘package’).

      Maybe you were a Dollarmite (more on this in Step 3).

      If you're dealing with one of the Big Four banks, there's every chance you're getting screwed. Earning zero per cent interest is like sooo noughties.

So let's get into it.

      Now, I'm not just going to waffle on about generic accounts — we're in this together, so I'm also going to show you exactly the accounts I used myself.

      I'm going to take you through them one by one, and at the end I'll put it all together for you in a simple ‘menu’ for you to follow when you go on your first Barefoot Date Night.

      Banishing bank fees from your life forever

      ‘What do you look for in your banking relationship?’ a bank executive once asked me.

      ‘I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for a relationship with a bank right now,’ I told him, and then added, ‘it's not me, it's you'.

      I am not loyal to any financial institution.

      Banks are giant corporate octopuses with tentacles that wrap around you and squeeze out as much money as they can.

      In 2020, the average Australian household was getting whacked $395 a year. Makes sense when you think about it — how else could four businesses make $30 billion a year in profits in a country with just 25.5 million people?

      Rant over.

      The bottom line is that it doesn't pay to be loyal.

      What you need from your bank is a dead-simple, zero-fee solution.

      Spare me all the convoluted ‘Terms & Conditions’ and fine print: ‘If you deposit $125 a month and don't withdraw it for 3 years, we'll pay you a bonus 0.16 per cent for the first 2 months, at which time it will revert back to our standard variable rate’.

      Huh?

      Just give me zero fees. As in doughnuts. None. Ever.*

      (*And that includes no ATM fees. Ever.)

      I don't care if I'm at one of those weirdly named convenience stores that has one of those weirdly named ATMs charging you an arm and half a leg to get your dough. Not my problem. I'm not paying for it.

Contrast this with what happened a few years ago to a friend of mine who banks with ANZ. I spent 30 minutes with him one night trudging around the city in the rain looking for his ATM: ‘I swear it was on the corner of Collins and Swanston!’ he moaned while I stood there shivering, hating him.

      My zero-fee everyday transaction account

      If you had stolen my wallet back in 2016, here's what you'd have found:

      A picture of me and my golden retriever, Buffett, frolicking on the grass, and …

      My ING Orange Everyday debit card.

      At the time, this was a corker of an account. Maybe it still is. (And remember: I got paid nothing for that mention. I'm fiercely independent and have no tie-ups with any financial institution, whatsoever.)

      I chose that account because it had zero fees. As in none. Not even when you're overseas.

      Whip out your phone and do a quick search to find the best deal right now.

      Zero fees. That's what you're looking for. Google it.

      In fact, I like this kind of account so much I