Has Exclusivity Lost Its Bite? Yes, And Well, No

Has exclusivity lost its bite? Yes, and well, no. The word is overused—no doubt about it. From personal hygiene kit subscriptions to a mid-week drop on an Instagram store that was suggested to you a week ago, everything seems to fall into the exclusive agenda. Hate to break it to you: it’s not, even in the slightest. Exclusivity in the realm of luxury, truth be told, has little to do with price tags and velvet ropes. The golden egg here is meaning. Transparency. Intention. Long live rarity. Oh, and that still bites.

In stark contrast with the incessant thrum of fashion, like it or not, exclusivity in today’s age is an earnest attempt at fostering connection. There’ll be an invitation, no email bombardment in sight. And brands verifying their production practices and supply chain systems does, in fact, help in distinguishing themselves from those who traffic in artifice, although the rampant churning out from their counterparts is always a dead giveaway.

Look, fashion has a long history of basking in the myth of the unattainable. Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Gucci—everyone is borderline guilty of selling aspiration with a humble seasoning of scarcity. Feigned, mostly. The waitlists and whisper-don’t-yell price points? *Chuckles.* However, modern-day marketing has had to undergo a makeover, as today’s consumer is slightly harder to seduce. They’re informed, and soon they’ll know whether it was made in small batches by artisans or intentionally rationed to spike the hype. Receipts, baby.

The Digital Wave

According to psychologist Jia Sitlani, our perception of exclusivity has shifted because access has shifted. “The digital age has radically transformed how we pursue exclusivity,” she says. “It’s moved from material objects to curated online spaces: invite-only apps and private Discord communities.” FOMO is king. There’s a passive messaging tactic that’s floating around— not pushing you to buy, rather instilling the paucity mindset to make sure you know what you’re missing out on. Everyone’s chasing a door that only opens for a few. Wicked. Of course, there’s a fine line between healthy aspiration and toxic desire. One drives personal growth. The other thrives on comparison and exclusion. “Aspiration is positive when it’s about becoming your best self,” says Sitlani.

 My Life, My Rules

Traditionally, luxury used to be about showing off. These days, one might argue that it’s also about feeling good, except, of course, your rich divorced aunt, who just wants to rub it in your face. As Jeffrey Shaw, author of ‘Sell to the Rich’ (2025), puts it: “Today’s buyers are more inwardly focused. It’s not about showing off, but about treating oneself. A designer dress, a niche perfume—they’ve become part of how people look after their mental well-being.” So maybe, bagging that Birkin might double up as therapy (maybe?). Buying something rare, made with the utmost care, can wonderfully ground you. The dopamine boost post the transaction may very well trump the feeling of putting that discount code to use.

“It never ceases to amaze me how often exclusivity is promoted with luxury brands. It’s become rote, even tone-deaf at times. To some, including myself, it can feel misaligned with personal values. Today’s buyers care less about how luxury looks to others, and more about how it makes them feel,” Shaw says. In this way, fashion is no longer only a form of visual identity, but a repository of meaning. Case in point: chasing exclusivity can be indulgent, sure. Not necessarily shallow. 

The Elitism Debate

“Aspiration is healthy when it motivates growth,” Sitlani says. “It becomes toxic when it’s driven by a need to feel superior.” In her view, toxic elitism stems from insecurity. It’s the difference between wanting something because it’s meaningful and wanting it because others can’t have it. This raises a broader question: what truly underpins our desire for exclusivity? Is it identity, personal taste, or a subtle form of status anxiety? “The answer is: all of the above,” Sitlani notes. “For some, exclusivity is a form of self-expression. For others, it’s a way to manage insecurity or validate self-worth. It often depends on whether a person’s sense of value comes from within, or from external approval.”

Luxury brands, too, must now balance these psychological nuances. The challenge isn’t just to be exclusive. It’s to be inclusive in spirit, while maintaining a sense of rarity and integrity. No small feat. As Shaw points out, “Challenging exclusivity in luxury is one of the greatest hurdles for brands. But it’s necessary if they want to stay relevant to today’s more introspective, emotionally driven consumer.” When only tethered to social status, self-worth is likely to fall into the throes of dwindlement. Sitlani is keen to encourage a robust inner foundation that finds solace in meaning and values, rather than blind privilege and possessions.

It is a slow, quiet rebellion against the fast and the disposable. It is about finding joy, not just in ownership, but in meaning and in the space fashion creates for self-expression, memory, and belonging. In the end, rarity may still define luxury. But it is no longer the whole story.