By Dr Rahim Said
From my perch on the first floor of Mid Valley Mega Mall, I had a front-row view of Malaysia’s favourite pastime: queuing up to be seduced by a brand name.
It wasn’t a bank, a clinic, or even a bubble tea counter that commanded the crowd—it was a brand from Florence, Italy.
More precisely, a booth from the luxury leather goods maker and perfumery, complete with chic backdrops and dainty bottles spritzing the promise of glamour.
An endless stream of visitors shuffled up, sniffed the latest fragrance, smiled for a selfie, and walked away, clutching a paper bag or at least the illusion of having brushed against luxury.
The brand from Florence, as always, knew exactly what it was doing. It wasn’t selling perfume. It was selling aspiration, the fantasy of belonging to its glittering world even if only for the whiff of a tester bottle.
We Malaysians, of course, are not alone in this addiction. We’re no different from the throngs in Shanghai, Paris, or New York who flock to the same booths, wallets ready, eyes sparkling with desire.
Branding is the world’s most successful religion, and names like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, Bottega Veneta, Chanel, Dior, Guerlain and their ilk are its high priests.
They preach not from pulpits but from mall atriums, converting worshippers with glossy posters and limited-edition packaging.
But here’s the bitter aftershave beneath the floral notes: the so-called luxury we covet is, more often than not, a marvel of marketing rather than craftsmanship.
A handbag, as Chinese manufacturers gleefully pointed out when US tariffs hit them, can cost mere pittance to produce. The same bag, once dressed up in logos and prestige, fetches thousands at retail. It’s the modern alchemy of turning polyester and leather scraps into gold bars.
The harsh reality?
Many Malaysians stretch themselves financially to own one, thinking it buys them status. The truth is, the brand is what owns us. We don’t carry Mulberry; Mulberry carries us—like badges that scream, “I belong!”
So when will we learn? Perhaps never. Because branding isn’t about logic or economics; it’s about emotion, ego, and the fear of missing out. And as long as booths like that Flora can pull a crowd on an otherwise sleepy Monday, the gospel of branding will keep thriving—one spritz at a time.
(The views expressed here are entirely those of the writer)
WE