The transformation of food from a basic necessity into a marker of social status is one of the most revealing evolutions of contemporary consumer culture. Historically, food has served as both sustenance and symbol, but in the 21st century, it has been elevated to a realm where luxury branding, influencer culture, and socio-political identity converge. The rise of "chefluencers"—celebrity chefs and food influencers—combined with the increasing commercialization of food culture, signals a seismic shift in how we perceive, consume, and aspire toward food. At the same time, the food system itself, once predicated on affordability and accessibility, has bifurcated into an economic landscape that both celebrates high-end culinary experiences and commodifies fast food into status-driven consumption. This phenomenon is particularly pronounced among Gen Z, for whom food functions similarly to luxury fashion or music merchandise. Reports indicate that over half of 16- to 24-year-old readers of Teen Vogue, Glamour, and Allure in the U.S. have purchased luxury food or drinks in the past year, sometimes spending upwards of $200 weekly at premium supermarkets like Erewhon. This aligns with the "lipstick effect," where consumers, during economic uncertainty, opt for smaller indulgences—like artisanal groceries—rather than high-ticket luxury items.
Food as a status marker is not a new concept. Historically, the wealthy have maintained distinct diets, exemplified by the lavish banquets of Louis XIV, where exotic ingredients and aesthetic presentation were paramount. The practice of service à la française, emphasizing visual spectacle, laid the groundwork for contemporary notions of luxury dining. Today, the idea of food as a marker of affluence has evolved; for some, the ability to afford a full grocery cart of organic produce is a luxury in itself. The cultural association between French cuisine and refinement persists, reinforcing the idea that certain foods signify prestige.
This critique unpacks the interplay between haute cuisine, fast-food chic, and the evolving landscape of food marketing, drawing on historical and contemporary sources to illuminate the implications of food's ascendance into the world of luxury branding.
Food as Fashion: The Convergence of Two Industries
The parallels between food and fashion have long been noted, but as scholars such as Melissa Marra-Alvarez and Elizabeth Way argue, their symbiosis has become even more pronounced in recent years. In "From Haute Cooking to Fast Food Chic," Marra-Alvarez highlights how food and fashion brands increasingly intersect, with luxury fashion houses collaborating with high-end restaurants, and food packaging becoming an aesthetic statement. Elizabeth Way, in "Haute Couture, Haute Cuisine," expands on this by analyzing how the exclusivity and craftsmanship associated with couture fashion now find an analog in gastronomic experiences. Restaurants with months-long waitlists, limited-edition menu items, and Michelin-starred experiences mirror the exclusivity of designer fashion shows—both industries thriving on a sense of inaccessibility that fuels their desirability.
This phenomenon is further explored in Adam Geczy and Vicki Karaminas' "Hippy to Couture: Slow Food Fashion and Fast Food Fashion," which situates the slow food movement within the realm of sustainable fashion. The rise of organic, farm-to-table cuisine aligns with ethical fashion’s emphasis on transparency and sustainability, reinforcing the idea that what one eats (or wears) is an extension of personal branding and moral identity.
The Chefluencer Economy: A New Era of Food Stardom
Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma explores how industrial food systems shape consumer habits, but today, social media influencers wield an even greater influence in determining what is considered desirable food consumption. Pollan exposes how industrial organic farming often mirrors conventional agriculture in its environmental impact and labor practices. Despite these shortcomings, consumer interest in wellness and organic products has surged, bolstered by a $23.5 billion wellness industry and the proliferation of social media influencers promoting superfoods, probiotics, and high-protein diets. The rise of "chefluencers"—celebrity chefs turned media moguls—has also transformed the food industry into an entertainment-driven spectacle. Figures such as Gordon Ramsay, René Redzepi, and Massimo Bottura have become household names, leveraging their culinary expertise into global brands. Jeremy Allen White, whose portrayal of a chef in "The Bear" cemented his cultural cachet, exemplifies the increasing fascination with culinary expertise. Similarly, "thirst trap chefs" like Cedric Lorenzen and Anthony Randall garner attention for their blend of masculinity and culinary skill, challenging traditional gender norms in cooking. The appeal of these chefs lies in their ability to make cooking appear both performative and aspirational, reinforcing the idea that food is not just about sustenance but about crafting a desirable lifestyle.
Female chef influencers, such as Gabriette and Nara Smith, have also gained traction by merging aesthetics with food content. Unlike traditional food influencers, Gabriette distinguishes herself by rejecting the health-conscious, restrictive eating trends often associated with models, instead showcasing indulgent dishes she enjoys. Meanwhile, Nara Smith has unintentionally become a symbol of the Tradwife movement, embodying an idealized version of motherhood centered around home-cooked meals and family care. Her popularity—and the backlash she receives—underscores the complexities of modern femininity and societal expectations around motherhood and domesticity.
This phenomenon extends beyond traditional chefs to Instagram and TikTok influencers who dictate food trends, from viral pasta recipes to $17 Erewhon smoothies. Monica Titton, in "Avocado Toast and Blonde Salad," critiques how social media aesthetics shape consumer behaviors, where visually appealing dishes—regardless of their taste or nutritional value—become cultural currency. The performative nature of food consumption, fueled by platforms like Instagram, transforms eating into an act of social signaling rather than sustenance.
The Brandification of Food: From Fast-Food Chic to Luxury Dining
Simultaneously, luxury brands are leveraging food to expand their cultural influence. High-end fashion houses like Gucci, Ralph Lauren, and Moschino have launched branded restaurants and food products, offering consumers more accessible ways to engage with their brand identities. Ralph Lauren’s tiered pricing model, which includes $45 meals at its Polo Bar and $10 lattes from its coffee stands, mirrors its clothing strategy, reinforcing exclusivity while broadening market reach. Branded food also serves as a powerful social media tool, as seen in the popularity of logoed coffee cups posted online for clout. This brandification extends beyond food; companies increasingly cross over into different industries, using food experiences to create shareable moments and strengthen brand loyalty. Luxury food branding is not solely reserved for Michelin-starred establishments; it extends even to fast food. As Bryan L. McDonald discusses in Food Power: The Rise and Fall of the Postwar American Food System, food was once marketed on efficiency and affordability. Today, however, even fast food has undergone a brand overhaul, where chains such as McDonald's and Taco Bell collaborate with high-fashion designers and limited-edition packaging becomes a collector’s item.
The 1953 Fortune article "The Fabulous Market for Food" and vintage advertisements from the Lewiston Daily Sun highlight how mid-century food marketing focused on abundance and savings. In contrast, modern branding strategies emphasize exclusivity and identity. For instance, McDonald's collaborations with Travis Scott and BTS turned standard menu items into coveted fashion-adjacent products, selling not just meals but entire cultural experiences.
Erewhon, the Los Angeles-based luxury grocery chain, epitomizes the brandification of food. The store’s $20 smoothies and meticulously curated organic produce are less about nutrition and more about affluence. The exclusivity of Erewhon mirrors the experience of shopping at a luxury fashion boutique, reinforcing the idea that food consumption can serve as an aspirational identity marker.
Diet Culture, Status, and the Commodification of Health
Luxury food culture also intersects with diet culture, further entrenching socio-economic divisions. Emma McClendon’s Don’t Eat That: Food, Fashion, Dieting, and Disorder examines how restrictive eating has historically been linked to status, with thinness often marketed as an elite ideal. The current wave of "clean eating"—popularized by wellness influencers and upscale grocery stores—follows this lineage, repackaging dietary restriction as self-optimization.
This extends to the recent phenomenon of pharmaceutical interventions like Ozempic, as reported in The Wall Street Journal and CNN. Once marketed to diabetics, these drugs are now promoted as weight-loss solutions for the wealthy, reinforcing the class divide in food consumption. While the privileged can afford bespoke meal plans, organic produce, and pharmaceutical enhancements, lower-income populations remain reliant on a food system that prioritizes affordability over nutritional value. The rise of weight-loss drugs like Ozempic further complicates food culture. With a staggering 1.7% of Americans prescribed semaglutide medications in 2023—a 40-fold increase—some analysts predict a long-term impact on food consumption patterns. Companies like PepsiCo and Coca-Cola are already adapting by offering smaller portion sizes to cater to shifting consumer habits. While industry leaders downplay the immediate effects of these drugs, their potential to reshape dietary norms and food marketing is undeniable.
Conclusion: The Future of Food as Luxury
The intersection of food, fashion, and social media has given rise to a culture where what one eats is as much a statement of identity as what one wears. The rise of chefluencers, the brandification of fast food, and the commodification of health have created a landscape in which food is no longer just sustenance but a status symbol. While this shift has fueled innovation and creativity in the culinary world, it also raises critical questions about access, affordability, and the deepening of class divides in food consumption. Whether through the luxury coating of groceries, the rise of influencer chefs, or the brandification of dining experiences, food has become an essential part of how people construct and communicate their lifestyles. In this landscape, the act of eating is no longer just a necessity—it is a statement.
As food continues its ascent into the luxury realm, the challenge lies in ensuring that culinary excellence and sustainability do not become the sole domain of the elite. The future of food must navigate the tension between exclusivity and accessibility, aesthetic appeal and nutritional value, spectacle and substance. If not, the very essence of what makes food a universal human experience may become lost in the pursuit of prestige.
Sources:
"From Haute Cooking to Fast Food Chic: The Pairing of Food and Fashion" by Melissa Marra-Alvarez
"Haute Couture, Haute Cuisine" by Elizabeth Way in Food & Fashion (2022)
"Hippy to couture: Slow food fashion and fast food fashion" by Adam Geczy and Vicki Karaminas
"Food Power: The Rise and Fall of the Postwar American Food System" by Bryan L. McDonald
"The Omnivore’s Dilemma" by Michael Pollan
"Avocado Toast and Blonde Salad: Critical Perspectives on Fashion and Food" on Instagram by Monica Titton
"Don’t Eat That: Food, Fashion, Dieting, and Disorder" by Emma McClendon
“The Fabulous Market for Food,” Fortune, October 1953, p. 137 “Fill Your Easter Basket with These IGA Savings,” Lewiston Daily Sun (Maine), April 8, 1955, 9.
The Diet’s the Thing,” in Vogue, September 15, 1913, Vol. 42, Issue 6: 108.