The Fake Modesty

When I was a child, my parents lived in comfort. Luxury wasn’t foreign to me — it was simply part of the atmosphere. But when fortune slipped away, so did those symbols of wealth. I grew into adulthood with the other side of the story: scarcity. A “poor person mentality,” as I often call it, shaped the way I viewed objects. A €5,000 bag was not just unattainable, it was unthinkable. Why buy it, when I could make my own? Why should plush toys or limited editions dictate my desire?

For years, I rejected the codes of luxury. Balenciaga was absurd, Chanel was irrelevant, Labubu was childish. I thought: better to dismiss it all than to feel the lack of it.

But then, perspective shifted. Partly because of my partner — for whom these brands are embedded in culture, markers of status and achievement — and partly because I began to look more closely at the ecosystem of consumption. I noticed how Balenciaga became “cultish” when worn by Kim Kardashian, and how Labubu evolved from obscurity into an international craze. A Balenciaga bag at €5,000 excludes most people, but Labubu, with its relatively affordable price point, allows the many to buy into the fantasy of belonging.

What fascinates me is the hierarchy inside this system. Those who can afford Chanel or Balenciaga can also afford Labubu — but those who can only afford Labubu often direct resentment at the ones higher up the ladder. And in between sits a whole spectrum: influencers who fake luxury, buyers of counterfeit goods, critics who mask envy with disdain. A theater of fake modesty, aspiration, irony, and hidden desire.

Today, I don’t condemn people who spend thousands on a bag. I may never do it myself — the thought still feels alien to me — but I’ve come to respect it as a choice. What I struggle with are the performances of authenticity, when people join trends not because they mean anything, but because they crave the image of meaning.

The photographs here come from that tension: the seduction of objects, the absurdity of worshipping them, and the strange intimacy of possession. A face buried in a Balenciaga tote. A head adorned with toys that masquerade as luxury. A body staged like an editorial, yet lingering with irony.

Luxury is not only about what we buy. It is about what we choose to believe in.