Succession and the World of Luxury  

If Emily in Paris reflects luxury in a society that has been highly democratized and makes a show of what it means to be and look “fancy”, Succession clothing scorns that notion. Recent cultural shifts, such as the emergence of influential celebrities and the rise of second-hand or rental branded goods, have completely changed the rules of the luxury goods market, allowing more people to participate in the category than ever before. There are two camps of people: the camp that glorifies owning fashion items emblazoned with logos or outwardly depicting their wealth by the number of sports cars and yachts they own; and others, who prefer disguise while still enjoying a lavish lifestyle.

The character in the award-winning show, Succession, fits perfectly into the latter category. For those with a penchant for blatant displays of wealth, the self-assertive nature of Succession mode feels impenetrable and mysterious, if not unsettling and inscrutable. Over the years, the show’s characters have attracted attention for their clothing, part of the excitement being that the clothing worn by the very wealthy characters is understated and not branded.

In the premiere of Succession season 4, Kendall Roy, one of the show’s protagonists, wore jeans, a t-shirt, a bomber jacket, and a baseball jacket, a combination that could have come from Uniqlo. After some investigation it was determined that the outfit was a combination of Gucci and Loro Piana which cost a little under 10k. Society has for a long time been accustomed to openly flaunting wealth, but Succession has disguised their on-screen billionaires with unobtrusive wealth. Where online aspirationalism often parades as a rotating cycle of expensive monogrammed handbags, Succession paints an image of luxury that completely ignores trends.

Not everyone can afford that luxury. Season after season, we see the supporting characters fight tooth and nail to dress the world of the Roy family. From the first episode of the show, when the patriarch of the Logan Roy family all but sneered at the Patek Philippe presented to him by his son-in-law, the audience was made to understand that trying hard is a faux pas, no matter the price tag. A season later, his son Kendall (who is admittedly Roy’s most trying brother) dresses up as part of an art startup in an attempt to invest in a company. Realizing himself to be a con man, he interrupts the meeting to take off the Lanvin shoes he bought for the event. Embarrassed, the richest man in the room thought of himself as an outsider and missed his chance. Not even his money could give him insider status.

Today, in the “picture it or it doesn’t happen” era, luxury is arguably more about status than money, comfort, or experience. When Greg Hirsch, played by Nicholas Braun, showed up to Logan Roy’s birthday party with a date wearing a $2,890 Burberry tote, it was an immediate red flag for the Succession elite, who immediately dismissed his bag as “too broad.” “What’s in there, huh? Flat shoes for the subway? The lunch bucket?” says Matthew Macfadyen’s character, Tom Wambsgans. “I mean, Greg, this is terrible. It’s a giant. You can take it camping. You can slide it on the floor after the bank job.”

The internet has since been filled with debates about exchange as a maddening display of elitism, a judgment on fashion, and of course, the value of the bag itself. People on social media were quick to label their own accessory as “extraordinarily spacious,” and news outlets were quick to crack jokes, advertising the season’s best-capacity bag. Meanwhile, people hinted at a return to the “old money” aesthetic, dubbing the look of “quiet luxury” a big trend to watch for 2023. What’s interesting about the impact of the moment isn’t its reach (any show with a large following is expected to be memeable in blink of an eye), such is the reaction to a bag breaking, and what that shard tells us about the fragmentation of luxury itself.

Culture is always breaking itself apart, the rifts getting deeper and more reflective every year we go online. In the early days of Instagram, the rise of the so-called “hipster” culture meant that everyone was trying really hard to be alternative. ‘Normcore’, an aesthetic built on a promise of simplicity, and a rejection of individuality as a whole, was born as a reaction against a culture obsessed with difference. One group found status by playing on the pop culture wave, while the other did so by aggressively, and self-consciously, ignoring it.

Today, as social media’s grip on our lives has expanded beyond the notion of cool, and into almost anything else, luxury finds itself in a similar situation. On one side sits Emily, making a name for herself on social media with her loud print and love of the ridiculous (though not necessarily expansive). On the other side are the Roy brothers, with their Loro Piana shoes, a $500 baseball cap, and a bunch of “investment normcore” items. Both parties dress to express different beliefs about luxury, but both parties play luxury as a sign of equal status. In fact, as in Succession, luxury doesn’t need to be flaunted, it is a “flex” all the same. In a media climate that asks people to constantly express who they are, our decisions about how we choose and do not choose to express luxury are about our ideals. Where luxury was once about scarcity and exclusivity, the word has transformed it into something completely different, with tentacles spreading in all directions. Being Emily, or being Roy, is all a matter of decision, but in 2023, both are luxury.

This article was contributed by Gabriela Serpa Royo, Behavioral Analyst, Canvas8.

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