cover image: Vasantika by Raja Ravi Varma, probably 1910
Opulence, in the sense of abundance, whether of resources or goods, is vilified. It is no longer safe anywhere, including in its comfort zone, where the Quiet Luxury trendy movement has shaken up the opulent codes and favoured a discreet luxury, praising sobriety rather than ostentation. The phenomenon is not new. Forgotten Books, a publishing house reviving rare and classic books, brought The Fatal Opulence Of Bishops: An Essay On A Neglected Ingredient Of Church Reform back to life. Originally published in 1901, the book argues that the opulent lifestyle of bishops was a significant contributing factor to the spiritual crisis that disconnected the Church of England from the urban population.
In our contemporary era, sobriety is in fashion. In the same way that younger generations of consumers are said to embrace “sober-curious” attitudes implying active avoidance of alcohol intake without necessarily committing to complete abstinence, mindfulness applies to everything-consumption. And it makes sense. It is becoming increasingly clear that we are reaching the end of abundance, with our planet struggling to support our never-ending demand for resources. Sobriety is an antidote to this end of abundance. Before considering the state of our planet, our tragic and recessionary economic conditions also direct consumers towards sobriety through frugality. Resourcefulness and utilitarianism step up as new status symbols. Meet the “Recessionista”: recession + -ista, after the pattern of ‘fashionista’; a person whose clothes, whether cheap, second-hand, or suitably subdued, are considered appropriate to an economic downturn. Moral values also come into the opulence trajectory, as luxurians are hit by a collective backlash against ostentatious spending. Elsewhere, opulence through the accumulation of goods stands in the way of mental health victory. Decluttering our collections of material possessions leads to mental clarity. And let’s not overlook the influence of the modern Experience Economy, praising experiences over material possessions.
The accumulation of material possessions is rooted in insecurity, fear of lack, and prevents a necessary shift towards sobriety to safeguard our planetary, economic, and ethical frameworks. But the consumption of goods, and their accumulation, is also a marker of identity, traditions, collective and individual memories, legacy, time, and occasions. Opulence is the varnish we add to our lives to be part of this place, not a visitor. Cultural capital obviously stands as a dematerialized force preserving our human existence. But culture is also materialised through objects and places, while our possessions further step up as resilient signs of humanity in the age of everything-digitalised and dematerialized.
Across societies, cultures and time, opulent abundance has been the chosen path to mark our individual and collective identities. Think about the Tunisian Berber women who once accumulated graphic tattoos over their bodies and faces as markers of tradition, faiths, and past pagan rituals. In the same vein, the accumulation of jewellery enhances beauty in Hindu culture. The more, the better. In other cultures and times, the French Baroque furniture movement, characterized by the accumulation of opulent designs, details, and materials, marked the pinnacle of artistic and cultural achievement in the history of decorative arts. “Tsundoku” (積ん読), the Japanese word dating from the Meiji era (1868–1912) and indicating the unread books that pile up on our shelves, is currently in discussion to enter the English language. This summer, the Mucem, the Marseille-based museum devoted to Mediterranean cultures, exhibits Shared Passions, a public display of the great art dealer Yvon Lambert’s accumulated collections testifying to 60 years of intimate art history. The examples of culturally-praised opulence are countless. And by the way, even Marie Kondo has abandoned tidying up and decluttering.
Opulence, abundance, and accumulation shaped cultures. And yet, similarly to the demonisation of opulence in The Fatal Opulence Of Bishops essay, opulence is being shamed again. I’ve been lecturing Trends & Forecasting and History of Fashion for the 20th century in a Paris-based fashion school for the past few years. I have witnessed students, year after year, suggesting that over-consumers are only good to be exorcised. Despite my obvious exaggeration here, it does not come as a surprise that younger generations are buying into these shaming discourses. The second-hand platform Vestiaire Collective is now officially recognised for its crusade against overconsumption in fashion. The battle kicked off last year when the resale facilitator made headlines for banning 30 fashion brands from its platform as part of a three-year plan to tackle the industry's waste problem. The cause is noble. The method? Another way of ostracising communities, fed on a daily basis with overconsumption aspirations through countless hauls and brand communication materials on social media, and sending them a clear message: you are not good enough to join our platform.
Sobriety is in fashion. But let’s be real. Opulence is not dead and still resists strongly, hiding in political correctness’ blind spot. Remember my students demonising overconsumption? They are themselves responsible for overconsuming. I don’t blame them. The dichotomy between the Sober Self and the Opulent Villain holds the strongest behavioural disconnections ever seen. I refuse to pretend to my clients that the era of opulence is over. Dopamine consumption and indulgence in first-degree materialism are very much alive in crisis times: studies reveal a significant rise in consumption, especially in the acquisition of luxury items, in periods following natural disasters, economic turmoil, and even massive terrorist attacks. Opulence through the accumulation of goods acts as a coping mechanism and a safe haven value.
To me, praising the Sober Self as opposed to the Opulent Villain is counterproductive. We should better question ourselves on the reasons why the Sober Self is not desirable enough to defeat the Opulent Villain. We’ve actually reached peak sobriety, a state in which the efforts towards de-consumption do not resonate with pleasure and indulgence-obsessed consumers. Sobriety is in fashion because it is necessary. But it fails to inspire creative added benefits to individuals in search of consumption patterns that contribute to expressing a sense of self and leaving a cultural footprint on this world. And I feel it all starts with the vocabulary in use when it comes to sobriety: “reducing”, “diminishing”, “without harming”, “zero impacts”, “zero waste”, “de-consumption”, “defashion”… This below-zero lexical field points towards a logic based on negativeness, subtraction, and decreasing movements. Who wants to embrace this less-but-less philosophy instead of adding conspicuous value to their lives?
“It can’t always be asking the consumer to compromise their tastes and needs for their values. Too much of sustainability is finger wagging – telling the consumer to buy less, wear something less desirable, to learn a new accounting method, or to pay more. These are not winning propositions.” said Eric Liedtke, co-founder of circular fashion brand UNLESS, to FUTUREVVORLD. The Opulent Villain cannot be defeated without a winning Sober Self proposition.