Luxury
When it comes to luxury, the story and meaning behind a product often carry more weight than the item itself. And something expensive isn’t automatically luxurious.
For example, a rare collectable Pokémon card may fetch a high price, but it doesn’t convey the essence of luxury. Balenciaga’s $3,000 “packing tape” bracelets or $1,700 "plastic bag" are another example; they may be high fashion, but they don’t embody true luxury.
Luxury goes far deeper, often symbolising an elevation of status, artistry, taste, and identity, a tradition that has existed for thousands of years.
From the aristocrats of ancient civilisations to the contemporary elite circles of today, luxury has always served as a marker of distinction.
Wealthy aristocrats and royals elevated themselves above the common people through luxury items, building a visible divide between social classes. Plato, in ancient Greece, saw luxury goods as symbols of vanity and greed, but even he noted the value they offered in showcasing the work of skilled artisans, who poured passion into their craft. This duality continues today; we celebrate the creativity and craftsmanship behind luxury goods, yet we may also often criticise the act of buying them.
Across different cultures and eras, from ancient Egypt to the Renaissance, luxury has been a display of social status.
In these societies, from how the ruling class dressed to how they walked or dined, everything served as a visible marker of hierarchy. Even the French word "étiquette", meaning "label", is directly linked to social conduct, a concept that now parallels modern luxury brands, whose distinct aesthetics and tastes serve as symbols of status.
A notable historical example is Louis XIV of France, who elevated French artisanship and established French luxury goods as globally desired items. By promoting the work of skilled French craftsmen, he tied luxury to national pride and cultural identity, a concept that persists in luxury brands today.
Similarly, in Renaissance Italy, powerful families like the Medicis funded grand works of art and architecture, using luxury as a tool to convey their status and influence.
With the decline of monarchies and the rise of the bourgeoisie and the Industrial Revolution, luxury became more accessible across the Western world. As luxury goods became less rare, brands had to find new ways to maintain exclusivity and allure.
This shift led to practices where even those with wealth must often “earn” the privilege to buy.
There is a distinctive connection between luxury brands and their customers; they are the object of their respect and often dominate their clientele.
Take Ferrari’s newest models or Hermès’ Birkin bags: ownership isn’t just a matter of money; it’s about status, loyalty, and access. Even with the funds, customers may find that a transaction isn’t simple; they must show commitment to the brand over time, before having access to their exclusive items.
This exclusivity has turned the traditional sales model upside down. Rather than brands trying to persuade customers to buy, the customers must convince the brand that they’re “worthy” of ownership.
Rolex, for example, has notoriously long waiting lists for select models, and Chanel restricts the number of its iconic bags a customer can buy annually, maintaining scarcity and allure.
So, why do people go to such lengths to buy a car, a bag, or a watch?
There are several reasons:
For those accustomed to constant affirmation, a bit of challenge and rejection from a brand can be perversely appealing.
People deeply crave exclusivity and uniqueness, and these practices amplify that desire.
By making purchases difficult and weaving rich brand narratives around them, luxury brands tap into an old saying: “You have to suffer for beauty.” In luxury, the effort and time spent add meaning, transforming the transaction into a rewarding experience for the customer.
The paradox of luxury is that while we applaud the craftsmanship of these products, they are trapped in this luxury market.
Take Hermès, for example, where a single Birkin bag might require over 20 hours of meticulous handcrafting by a skilled artisan.
This dedication to quality and detail is highly respected, yet the unattainable nature of the market also attracts criticism. Similarly, Patek Philippe watches, known for their master craftsmanship and generational durability, stir admiration for their uniqueness, but the price and limited availability fuel debates about accessibility.
Luxury brands understand that, for their exclusive clientele, time and money are abstract concepts experienced differently than for the average consumer. As such, luxury retailers design immersive in-store experiences, where time seems to slow down, and the quality of the encounter matters as much as the product. This contrasts with regular brands, which focus on convenience and efficiency, recognising that, for most, “time is money". In luxury, time is part of the enjoyment and experience, and money is merely a stepping stone toward the experience.
True luxury brands focus on the entire customer experience, not just the product; they copy traditional art to show authenticity and also take inspiration from religious rituals to give meaning and belonging.
For instance, Bentley allows customers to personalise their car interiors extensively, offering a sense of ownership in the creation of the product itself. Luxury retail environments echo this personalised experience.
Louis Vuitton’s flagship stores, for example, create an atmosphere resembling an art gallery, with museum-quality displays and exclusive VIP rooms that enhance the feeling of belonging to an elite group.
Some mass-market brands successfully incorporate luxury principles to elevate their appeal, even without full exclusivity.
Apple, for instance, adopts a minimalist aesthetic from Bauhaus in its retail spaces that feels almost like an art gallery, creating an environment that encourages visitors to linger, explore, and fully experience the products.
Balenciaga, known for its avant-garde approach, sometimes ventures into provocative designs like its infamous “trash bag” handbag, designed to draw attention and appeal to those who value rarity and distinction in their fashion.
Ultimately, a luxury brand isn’t interested in mass approval; in fact, criticism or ridicule from the general public can benefit luxury brands by reinforcing their exclusivity.
By distancing themselves from the mainstream, luxury brands make a clear statement that their value is for those who can appreciate it, not necessarily for everyone to understand.
For luxury brands, it’s not about how much they can sell but about to whom and how much meaning they can infuse into every interaction. In a world where convenience dominates, luxury’s allure lies in the opposite: the time, effort, experience, and story behind each product, and the sense that true luxury is a privilege earned, not just bought.
