Subscriber Comment

Sara Bernát on today’s luxury fragmentation: “There’s almost no overlap between the Aesop shopper and the Lamborghini owner — and there’s a reason for that.”

PHILADELPHIA — In terms of finding your crowd, we’ve never had it easier than we do right now. No question about it, regardless of your hobbies, lifestyle, or politics, finding a niche community that shares those same interests is no longer the big challenge it once was.

Sure, it can be a streaming service, a niche publication, or even a cheeky Instagram account. The options are many. The point of the matter, though, is that you can find those quirky stories and communities that, just fifteen years ago, would’ve required some digging to find — and that these same niche interest enclaves are now accessible to larger audiences than ever before.

The result is that it’s very easy for subcultures to break away from the mainstream — and thrive — while bypassing the old gatekeepers that previously dictated the norms and lorded over the cultural discourse.

All signs, then, suggest that we’re currently living in the Age of Fragmentation. How have we gotten here? Blame it on two factors. The first, network-focused technology, which has been seeded by new devices and platforms, and has ultimately led to a democratization of voices and a diversification of ideas. The second, algorithms, which have guided people to exciting, new pockets of the internet, where viewpoints, values, and tastes can be shared, which further create and reinforce tribes.

A Chanel purse may be coveted by some, but it can be regarded as vulgar by others. A while a New Yorker tote might be the epitome of thoughtful living in some circles, but its status as a luxury item certainly puzzles others.

Within these tribes, new standards have been established internally. No longer seeking to reflect the values of outside status groups, these new groups have defined their own set of aspirations. This, of course, is certainly true on matters of modern luxury, the version that we’ve come to know and expect over the last decade or more.

As sociologist Russell Belk puts it, “an inescapable fact of modern life [is] that we learn, define, and remind ourselves of who we are by our possessions. . . . We seek to express ourselves through possessions and use material possessions to seek happiness, remind ourselves of experiences, accomplishments, and other people in our lives, and even create a sense of immortality after death. Our accumulation of possessions provides a sense of past and tells us who we are, where we have come from, and perhaps where we are going.”

Objects are immensely powerful. And our possessions signify more than their utility value; they’re innate to human expression across the board. We rely on them to express ourselves and understand others. Luxury goods, especially, exist in the context of symbols. Take, for instance, the thoughtfulness of Aesop, the classic elegance of La Mer, or the new-age aspirations of Goop. Each guides consumers to purchase a particular product (in this case beauty), offering a closely edited selection of goods that simultaneously define and affirm that sub-group’s particular identity.

But the idea of Luxury in the Age of Fragmentation is also an elusive one with a diverse array of expressions. There’s blue blood luxury house Louis Vuitton collaborating with scrappy streetwear kings Supreme. There are DNVBs admitting to not seeking to be best-in-class (in terms of subjective quality) in their category. And there are one-of-a-kind artisan products sold at exorbitant markups that more than make up for the cost of manufacture.

All of these examples reside within the confines of the current modern luxury framework, yet until now, luxury was primarily defined through things like price, quality, or rare materials. Luxury goods told stories of the aspirational self, but what was hidden in the background was that the aspirational self in the traditional sense of luxury only addressed groups at the highest socioeconomic level. This legitimized the dreams and hopes of a select few, while denying that status to anyone outside of the group.

Luxury in the Age of Fragmentation, however is a bit different. The gatekeepers no longer have much of a stronghold, so the definitions are unique and one group’s idea of luxury can vary wildly from another’s. The Maiyet customer’s socially sensitive and worldly view of the world stands in stark contrast, for instance, to the exclusive worldview of Lamborghini customer’s. These two brands will also most likely not share an overlapping consumer base.

That’s not to say that these new luxury ideals aren’t being reflected in traditional luxury labels. When accessibly priced luxury began appearing across the industry, the media speculated about the democratization of space. While this wasn’t entirely false, since more access leads to more diversity, luxury now seems to be more fragmented than democratic. It’s not that the same luxury companies have become available to a wider slice of society; rather, it’s that the brands themselves have redefined the very meaning of luxury in order to capitalize multiple customer cohorts.

Tiffany & Co introducing a new entry-level price point jewelry line, for example, certainly expands their potential client base, scooping up those whose values and images of success already align with the brand’s, as well as who had been prohibited by the high price. And as different groups and different luxury cohorts overlap, their prices and values are no longer defined by a central authority. Instead a variety of popular culture role models (and their followings) define this.

Coexisting luxuries can be visible or hidden, expensive or affordable, moral or indulgent. What one person regards as luxury may still be sold as such, but may not be defined as luxury for another.

So while a Chanel purse may be coveted by some, it can be regarded as vulgar by others. And while a mass-manufactured New Yorker tote bag might be the epitome of thoughtful living in some circles, its status as a luxury good certainly puzzles others.

What’s imminently clear is this: There’s no longer a unified industry following the unwritten laws of luxury. As the Age of Fragmentation becomes further entrenched in the economy, this flexible definition of luxury will continue to reflect its the current social fabric, ultimately shifting from unified to diverse values and aspirations.


Lean Luxe subscriber Sara Emilia Bernat is an independent brand strategist, Ph.D. candidate in Luxury Studies at the Humboldt Universitat, Berlin. The views reflected here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Lean Luxe.

Let's make it official, shall we?
You've made it this far. Time to commit. We make keeping up with the news and events in modern luxury super simple. We distill the important stuff, and send it right to you so you've got it all in one place.
Become a subscriber

Reporting Queue

Previous story

Ana Andjelic: "How new botanical haircare brand Act + Acre represents a model for the future of entrepreneurship."

Next story

Luke Scheybeler: "Modern luxury, status, and the death of discretion."