Weather 
Three Bear Stearns bankers walk into a fashionable downtown bar.
Twenty years ago, that might have been the start of a joke — or everyone else’s cue to leave.
Today, the joke’s on the rest of us.
Private equity guys get the nod at hard-to-crack haunts like Zero Bond and People’s. They sit at Bar Oliver in Chinatown, where they trade knowing nods and showy fist-bumps with Dua Lipa and Joe Jonas.
You’ll see them crammed into invite-only short story readings with actress Jemima Kirke and socialite Carole Radziwill. On Paris runways, Christian Dior and Yves Saint Laurent leaned hard into their quarter-zip fleeces and square-shouldered blazers.
And everywhere they go, they are prowled relentlessly by single women (and men) of all ages.
Celebrities like Reese Witherspoon and Nicole Kidman are reportedly dating normie financiers who barely have an Instagram account, much less a Hollywood rep.
Call it the redemption era of the finance bros — that Wharton-bred tribe that once sparked dread in the hearts of their fellow New York party people.
“We’re no longer the bad guys in the story,” said Ben Carlson, who handles private portfolio assets at the midtown firm Ritholtz Wealth Management.
“It’s not 2008 anymore; we didn’t cause any new recessions.” Now, Carlson explained, “The tech bro has replaced the finance guy as the villain. They went from lovable nerd to evil genius. They invented AI. We’re off the hook!”
Matchmaker Bonnie Winston says when it comes to finance bros, their stock is up in the dating world, too.
“10 years ago, you’d have all the beautiful, cool girls — the ones who work in fashion or music; the ones every guy wanted to date — asking for artists, musicians, writers,” she said. “Now they’re realizing, ‘You know, I’d rather go out with the guy who can buy the rock band’s entire catalogue, instead of the one playing the songs.”
Winston also says the education factor matters.
“It’s harder now to work in finance. There are fewer jobs, and the jobs are more high stakes, so you have to be Ivy League. You have to be brilliant. New York women are so accomplished; so smart. They want their equal. Men in finance are very educated now. They can spar with them.”
That’s different than the trading joes formerly schooled in the fine art of blacking out in a town car after trying — and usually failing — to hunt Victoria’s Secret models for sport.
Savaged in books like “American Psycho” and movies like “Margin Call” for their scammy ways and sketchy addiction to hair gel, these Y2K men could ooze through New York’s bottle-service underworlds like Tao and Marquee, but were banned from true elite playgrounds like Bungalow 8 and the Beatrice Inn, where Olsen twin acolytes and Gagosian gallerinas plotted the future over artisanal lines of cocaine.
Exclusive members’ clubs like Soho House were famous for their “no suits” request, asking its boldface members to refrain from bringing Wall Street types to parties or even casual bar drinks.
The message — at least everywhere except Dorrian’s — used to be clear: Finance bros, go home.
“It was so uncool to be a trader,” Peter Gehl told the Post. The global angel investor first hit Wall Street as a commodities newbie in the 1990s, when banking involved drinking at work, pressure to close deals and land “whales,” and a flood of amphetamines hidden in the office supply closet. Everyone, said Gehl, was “perpetually wired, overconfident and drugged up.”
Worst of all, they were extremely un-fun at parties.
“The guys were loud, and unfortunately, not always kind to women… basically, douches,” said Gehl, who managed to camouflage himself among a cooler clique of novelists and composers in Tribeca after work — after hiding his Armani blazer and tie inside his gym bag, that is.
“You’d walk into the Odeon and if it looked like you just came from the [stock market] floor, they wouldn’t even give you a seat.”
Today, the Gucci loafer is on the other foot.
Shows like “Industry” and “Succession” have also helped rehab bankers’ cultural cachet, even if the shows’ characters are shadier than Central Park at dusk. “Everyone is fascinated with investing now,” said Carson, the wealth manager. “They all have Robin Hood. They have sports betting. They want in on what we do.”
Nightlife VP Tommy Saleh said that the finance bros of the early 2000s were “mostly forbidden” from New York institutions like Don Hill’s and Socialista, but he’s seen doormen become much more lenient at clubs like Gospel and Jean’s in recent years.
“Many of the guys in finance have gotten quieter and cooler… They’re nice. They can hang. They wear normal Adidas Sambas and Salamons. They’ve gotten the memo that good vibes are so much more important than status.”
And beneath it all, there is still the fact that finance guys can actually help finance the nightlife scene — especially now as Gen Z goes hard on the ‘sober curious‘ moment (or just smokes a lot more weed).
“Young people aren’t drinking anymore. They show up to clubs already buzzed. Finance guys, dare I say it, they have manners now. They understand that at a bar, you order drinks. We’re letting them in to set an example!”
But as finance men become more in-demand with nightlife titans and movie stars, their famously strict employers are cracking down on their public image.
In March, Interview magazine did a steamy spread with designer-clad bankers called “Meet the Finest Boys in Finance.” Backlash from bosses was swift, with some 20-something traders given warnings, and others rumored to have lost their lucrative Goldman gigs.
“That story was such a pain,” said Tyler, a 27-year-old trader at J.P. Morgan Chase who asked The Post to give him a pseudonym. (The Post verified his employment through his boss — who also requested anonymity.) “Everybody knows those guys got fired, and now we can’t even be on social media being normal.”
For Tyler, “normal” means leaving work around 7 pm to catch a basement jazz show at Arthur’s Tavern in the West Village, followed by a Katana Kitten cocktail.
He might meet a girl at the Marlton Hotel bar, where Jack Kerouac once slammed whiskey. And he’ll do it in the same Theory wool slacks and Bode cardigans worn by guys who work at culture hubs like art galleries, indie magazines and music studios.
“It’s weird because those guys started wearing our stuff,” he said. “I remember the first time I saw a quarter zip at a cool bar. I felt like an influencer.”
Winston said the number of women who specifically request the meme-happy “man in finance” has increased nearly 50% since 2020. But Winston warns that although “women in their 40s and 50s do very well with finance guys,” younger girls in their 20s might want to watch out.
“One thing has remained really true with a finance guy,” she says with a laugh. “If they pick you up when you’re both 25? Eventually, after you both grow up, they could leave you on the curb for someone new —who’s 25.”
