#32 Unplanned Obsolescence
How we forgot how to be broke.
Wait, how did you actually survive the 2008 financial crisis?
That’s the recurring question being asked on TikTok these days. For once, Gen Z is looking to Millennials for guidance on money-saving tips instead of making fun of the length of our socks or the involuntary pause we take before speaking in a video.
Not to go all “But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.“ but the 2008 financial crisis came before we completely reorganised our lives around convenience with the lifestyle creep to match. This is maybe why this recession feels so different and potentially more dangerous than the 2008 one.
I The Pre-Convenience Economy
Remember 2008? Not just the economic collapse, but the friction of daily life:
Uber. You could try and hail a taxi if you were in the right neighbourhood and had cash on you1, but more often than not, you’d rely on public transport or adjust the logistics of your night out.
Deliveroo. Yes, you could call the sushi or pizza place and get your food delivered, but it was 1. occasional; 2. a place you had most likely visited before, as opposed to the sky-is-the-limit inventory of menu options you see when you open your app of choice.
Online Shopping. Yes, Amazon and eBay existed, and so did Net-a-Porter, technically. But the idea of having all of your groceries delivered, next-day delivery on household appliances, wasn’t part of our day-to-day life. Fast fashion stores didn’t have an online presence yet. And luxury purchases? Those customers preferred the service offered in brick-and-mortar stores. Fun fact: when I first started working at Farfetch (RIP) in 2012, many, if not most LVMH and Kering brands refused to appear on the platform, despite retailing in our partnering shops.
Social Media: No constant exposure to people flaunting expensive lifestyles2 who were secretly paid or gifted those items. Before Instagram, you weren't shown influencers showing off designer clothes, luxury hotels, and exclusive restaurants… complete with convenient tags telling you exactly what to buy and where to find it. You had to get creative if you wanted something, figuring out how to recreate a similar vibe within your means. The path from inspiration to purchase wasn’t a straight add-to-basket situation.
Spending thus naturally slowed. When consumption requires effort, financial difficulty automatically reduces consumption.
II Welcome to the Laziness Economy
Since 2008, we've witnessed a profound reorganisation of economic systems around one core premise: friction is the enemy.
Expansion of convenience infrastructure: one-click shopping, instant delivery, digital payments
Attention economy + shopping economy fused thanks to social media
Rise of automated consumption: subscriptions, algorithm-curated feeds, BNPL services
The result? We're spending above our means because we've internalised convenience as a necessity instead of the luxury it is. We've made lifestyle inflation invisible by fragmenting it across platforms and payment methods. Death by a thousand subscriptions.
The Uberisation of our lifestyle was subsidised by VC money in the 2010s. And now the middleman (Uber, Airbnb, Deliveroo) is screwing both small businesses and customers with fees.
III Visibility, Identity, Obsolescence
Unlike 2008's sudden shock, today's financial precarity creeps in gradually, masked by the seamless infrastructure of digital commerce and the insidiousness of buy-now-pay-later. We've lost the muscle memory for identifying unsustainable spending.
Social media has transformed spending from a private activity into a public performance. The fear isn't just that your phone will become outdated. It's that you will become outdated if you don't maintain appearances, even when realistic budgeting doesn't allow it.
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You might want to (re)visit this story re: opulent appearances versus the global economy:
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Products aren’t the only things going obsolete. We've internalised the Silicon Valley ethos of constant iteration, and people can feel obsolete, too.
Ironically, the technology that made us more efficient has also made us less resilient. We've atrophied our capacity to handle limitations creatively.
The critical question: If you remove friction from everything, what happens when the bubble bursts?
What Comes Next
This moment of recession-without-recalibration raises two intertwined questions:
How will individuals shift their consumption habits?
Should founders stop building “frivolous” things, or just reframe them?
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The Individual. We still want, but we want differently.
Even in downturns, people don't stop consuming. They just shift how and why they do it. They won’t suddenly abstain from buying, but perhaps more selectively.
The pursuit of Emotional ROI. Purchases must deliver a feeling, whether it’s comfort, nostalgia, micro-escape, or social belonging. Categories like fragrance, candles and niche food indulgences remain resilient: "If I can't afford the life I want, I'll buy small pieces of how it smells, feels, or tastes."
The rise of Narrative Spending. Purchases are justified through storytelling: "This will last forever." "I supported a small artisan." "It aligns with my values."
Soft Luxury > Loud Luxury. Coded consumption replaces nouveau riche flashiness. IYKYK. Think monobrand loyalty, rare vintage finds, and niche services.
We're not going to buy less, but more defensively, more emotionally, and more invisibly.
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The Builder. Should founders stop creating frivolous things?
It's tempting to read this moment as a call for austerity—to stop building "unnecessary" products. Historically, downturns don't kill desire, they force it to evolve. Instead of asking yourself, “Should I stop creating nice-to-haves?” you should reframe it as “Can your product survive a more discerning, values-driven, emotionally defensive consumer?”
Is it emotionally justifiable? Even a frivolous product can be bought if it makes someone feel safe, special, or seen.
Can it plug into a new narrative? Community, self-improvement, aesthetic restraint, analogue joy… does your product align with those cultural pulses?
Is it built for lasting delight, not impulse churn? Think Muji, not Temu.
Does it signify cultural taste, not just convenience? Things that feel personal, artful, and human can justify their pricetag. This might mean investing in creative direction over aggressive performance marketing.
Consumers don't want less. They want better stories for why they want what they want. Founders who understand that will keep building and selling through recessions.
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xoxo Esther 💋
PS: No Buy/Sell List today, that’s enough reading for today. But you should share Oblique Forecasting with your nearest and dearest:
📈 Bullish news
The Prada Group is proceeding with the Versace acquisition for $1.38B [Reuters].
Mytheresa’s acquisition of Yoox Net-a-Porter (YNAP) is set to close on 23 April [Vogue Business]. In recent years, Mytheresa has consistently outperformed the struggling multi-brand retail and e-commerce market. YNAP, meanwhile, has struggled under Richemont ownership, which acquired the company in 2018.
Another hospitality x fashion collab: St. Regis Hotels & Resorts Partners With Staud for Exclusive Resort Accessories Capsule [WWD]. Real q: who buys these things?
Meet Neptune, a TikTok alternative where creators can hide likes and follower counts [TechCrunch]
📉 Bearish news
Who ends up paying for tariffs [Axios]. The key question for anyone in the U.S. who buys stuff is who pays for Trump's latest tariff increases. The answer is probably everyone.
China Suppliers Mock Tariffs With Nike, Lululemon Deals on TikTok [Bloomberg]
Stock market under Trump 2.0 [Axios]. The S&P 500 has fallen more than 15% since Trump's inauguration, the worst showing for a new administration since George W. Bush was in office during the dot-com bust. Trump usually touts stock market performance as an indicator of his success.
The strange link between Trump’s tariffs and incel ideology [Vox]. A vocal contingent of incel-adjacent men on X have embraced Trump’s tariffs as a way to disempower women economically, claiming that eliminating so-called “email jobs” will force young women out of financial independence and into romantic desperation.
Lyst, a fashion marketplace once valued at $700M, sells to Japan’s Zozo for $154M [TechCrunch].
4 years after being valued at nearly $2B, Glossier is now seeking $100M in new funding at a valuation “south of a billion” [Puck].
Before you go: here’s my Instagram and my Sicilian house’s Insta. Here’s my LinkedIn. Choose wisely, or don’t.
They didn’t accept cards!
Here’s a NYT article on money dysmorphia and the boom boom aesthetic. Kind of obsessed with the illustration, nearly identical to mine, from February:
#25 Whenever, Wherever
Hiiiiiiiiii. Did you notice last week’s issue came out a day late? Perhaps you didn’t—at the end of the day, none of this shit matters. On the other hand, you may have clocked it—I saw a drop in my open rate. Retaliation or simple happenstance? Let’s dive in. Except… I’m kind of making a point and a counterpoint. You’ll get to choose today.
Great stuff! In 08, we were buying new clothes twice a year! It was a real treat to get something new. I had one or two pairs of sneakers in high school. I really do hope this economic era ushers in more mindful consumption and takes off the pressure of performance. In: carefully handcrafted no brand stuff Out: influencer brands
Always “pertinent” and “impertinent”