Hello!
Back from a bit of hiatus and have a few pieces I’m working on that I’m very excited about. Thanks for sticking around.
If you’ve been following along with Bumble’s rebrand saga, I was quoted in a recent Marketing Brew article about the evolution of dating culture and the growing celibacy movement. A great piece by Katie Hicks and definitely worth a read!
In other news, here’s a photo of my cat Oliver hanging out with his head in a tunnel, who is the epitome of “no thoughts, just vibes” and this newsletter’s unofficial mascot. I wish I could be this chill.
Without further ado, let’s get into it!
I’m sure by now you’ve heard about quiet luxury — it reached mainstream popularity back in early 2023. But the trend itself wasn’t ever novel to begin with. It often follows a predictable ebb and flow that can be tied to the fluctuating economy, income inequality and perceptions of social class. Less a trend than an economic indicator, quiet luxury reflects a growing dissatisfaction with the uber-wealthy while simultaneously reflecting a paradoxical desire to be just like them.
The concept of quiet luxury can trace its roots as far back as France in the 1700s with the fall of the French monarchy alongside the rise of industrialization and urbanization. Powdered wigs and floral-brocade suits were denounced in favor of something more understated. With execution on the table, it wasn’t a good idea to align oneself with the monarchy and the elite class. Fast forward to the late 19th-century American Gilded Age, where those who were “new money” gravitated towards bold colors and avante-garde silhouettes, while the old guard tried to retain their separation through simple elegance, relying on traditional European styles and fabrics.
Since then, the American economy has been disappointing for much of the past half-century. Income and wealth growth has been stagnant, and inequality has soared. Blamed on over-consumption and the recklessness of Wall Street’s elite, The Great Recession of 2008 initiated yet another era of understated minimalism and "normcore" that brought the bold styles of the early 2000s to a close. Poll results for The Atlantic showed that back in 2011, most Americans supported the Occupy Wall Street movement, indicating widespread social disdain for the rich. Predictably, when quiet luxury comes back into style, it seems to always be connected to some sort of societal upheaval.
That brings us to 2023 — in a post-pandemic haze where society’s inequities were laid bare, it made another comeback. Many fashion editors tie our current obsession with quiet luxury to two key cultural moments — the series finale of Succession and Gwyneth Paltrow’s viral court outfit featuring an unassuming $1,690 merino wool sweater.
But what’s really new about this latest iteration of “quiet luxury?”
Platforms like TikTok have blatantly demonstrated the widening social gap. At the same time quiet luxury proliferates online, there’s also a growing disillusionment with the wealthy elite. Search through the comments of many popular influencers and celebrities and there’s a common thread of distaste: it's the rich getting richer, flexing their wealth amid widespread layoffs and inflation. That it’s inappropriate to flaunt conspicuous consumption when many Americans can’t even afford rent. “Crying in poor” commented one user on a recent Nara Smith shopping video.
Quoted in a recent article for Teen Vogue about the rampant overconsumption demonstrated on TikTok, 21-year-old creator Tyler (@tyler.benderr) aptly points out — “it’s literally like The Hunger Games, where there’s rich people in the Capitol and then everybody else struggling.”
Clearly, louder interpretations of luxury have fallen out of style given the current economic environment. But it’s not only that younger generations are trying to find ways to emulate luxury in low-cost ways. There’s an element of “cosplaying” an economic class that to many will never be attainable. The whole thing is incredibly ironic — trends like “quiet luxury” and even “dupe culture” glorify totems of wealth while simultaneously making it clear how depressingly out of reach they are for most people. Brenda Weischer, a fashion editor at 032c magazine, finds it surprising that we’re still at this game when there’s a new generation she associates with having an “eat the rich” mentality. It seems odd that we’re trying to emulate them, no matter how subtly, given the current cultural discourse.
Take Tarte’s lavish influencer trips for example, and the subsequent public backlash. “Whichever side you fall on, the status quo likely seems less and less tenable,” writes
for . “Imagine, amidst the spread of videos exposing starvation and violence, coming across a group of influencers in matching sweatsuits flying to Bora Bora on private jets.”This trend works both ways. It’s also perhaps an attempt by the actual elite class to tone down their exorbitant lifestyles. To blend in, to avoid getting called out. The IYKYK stealth nature of quiet luxury makes it easier for the mega-rich to move in silence as their influence continues to expand. As the fashion critic Rachel Tashjian wrote for The Washington Post, somehow, “the uber-monied class seems to have become even less visible as its economic power has grown.”
Ultimately, quiet luxury is becoming a sort of class compromise: a way for the wealthy to downplay what they “have,” while the rest of us can forget what we “have not”. As income inequality continues to grow, it’s likely that lifestyle and fashion trends around quiet luxury will have a lasting impression — both for the wealthy looking to hide in plain sight, and regular people looking for a small taste of the good life. And perhaps, despite growing sentiment that the American Dream is dying, to hang on to some unrealistic expectation that it will one day be attainable for us.
ahh thank you for the mention!!
The Haley Baylee ‘Let Them Eat Cake’ video and public response deserves a mention here.