Luxury, Minimalism and Meaning

We have more stuff than we need. At least in the developed (and increasingly the developing) economies, there is a large and growing segment of the population that can afford a lot more physical possessions than they need — more food, more clothes, more everything. The environmental impact of all the excess stuff is terrible, and having it all doesn’t really make anyone happier.

There is already a counter-reaction to this problem out there, with the “tiny house” movement and bloggers writing about living with fewer things. Younger generations understand it better, with millennials showing a clear preference for experiences over possessions. They’re also much more open to renting and sharing than owning things outright.

That doesn’t mean owning material things is becoming irrelevant — the opposite is true. The fewer things you have, the larger the role of each one in your life. Conversely, if we want our product to be one of the few that the newly-minimal consumer will own, it has to really matter to them.

As designers we should do everything we can to encourage this trend. On a material level, manufacturing fewer things that last longer before ending up in a landfill is obviously good. Focusing on the emotional meaning of a product is more interesting than just getting someone to buy it as quickly as possible. The idea that a product will live with its owner for a long time is a rewarding goal for everyone involved in creating and communicating a brand to an audience.

One segment of the market that has been selling this idea for a long time is the luxury goods industry. From its origins in the 18th and 19th-century leather goods and watch makers, traditional luxury has always been about buying a very well-made object that its owner would keep for a very long time, maybe even passing it down to the next generation. The items were expensive of course, but they were meant to be bought only once or twice in a lifetime.

Over the past century or two, the gap in quality and functionality between luxury goods and their mass market alternatives has narrowed a great deal, especially relative to their price differential. Purists can debate the virtues of all the latest “complications” of a six-figure mechanical “timepiece”, but a cheap Swatch is accurate enough for any normal person. Even among designer handbags, some cost 20x as much as others despite offering only minor differences. Despite this, the makers of luxury goods have thrived, and the industry is stronger than ever.

What luxury brands (and their wealthy customers) have understood all along is that, to make an object feel valuable, it needs to mean something to its owner. That meaning goes beyond (sometimes far beyond) the physical function of the object, and might include the memories associated with it, the person who gave it to you, or the way it makes you feel. Jewelry is one of the best examples of this, since it has no function at all, its value is purely decorative and emotional.

One way to convince potential customers that an object will mean something to them is through stories. Stories about the product, its origin, the inspiration behind the design, the people who made it. Also stories about people who reflect the values of the brand, their lives, their adventures, their creativity. The stories don’t need to be directly relevant to the product for them to be powerful, they just need to be good stories. The underlying message is that this brand is already part of many great stories — if you own one of its products, it will become part of yours too.

As designers there are many tools we have for helping brands tell these stories. Photographs (or illustrations) are the traditional way, and are still the most immediate and powerful. Words can help too, either short phrases (“a diamond is forever”) or longer stories. It helps to have other people’s words (i.e. interviews) complement your own. Even videos are starting to become effective, as brands find the right balance between over-produced and DIY aesthetics.

The role of a designer in this world becomes a combination of the traditional art director — creating and curating images for the brand — and copy editor, in addition to the more recent disciplines of experience design and digital graphic design. The best brands, and the best designers, use all of these tools and techniques together to create a rich world for customers to explore. Connecting with a brand via shared values and inspirational stories, customers will then feel an affinity and loyalty to the brand and its products across any category. They will also be willing to pay a premium price in order to incorporate the brand into their lives.

The relevance of this approach has become far broader than the traditional luxury industry, and is nearly universal in many product categories. That said, too many brands are still treating stories and the creation of meaning as a side project, burying the content in blog sections on their site, and failing to use it in their emails and social media. Leading with products and pricing is a doomed strategy in the Amazon era.

Whether you’re selling hot dogs or hats, bagels or backpacks, using stories to create meaning is the only way to rise above the mass market of cheap disposable goods, and earn a place on the limited shelf (or closet) of the future customer. If all you’re offering is stuff, people can get that anywhere, they won’t buy it from you. And while we can never eliminate the environmental harm caused by making new things, we can go a long way towards reducing it by embracing the “fewer, more meaningful” mantra.