A drug, a cultural issue: when appetite becomes a social topic
drugs in the GLP-1 family, of which Ozempic has become themedia emblem, have not only opened a new therapeutic chapter. They have also shifted a collective imagination: that of control. Control of weight, sugar, impulses, cravings, and by extension, a certain relationship to pleasure.
Behind the graphs of pharmaceutical markets lies a broader, almost anthropological question: what becomes of an economy based on desire when desire becomes more discreet, slower, less impulsive?
Luxuryhas always sold more than just objects. It sells an inner narrative: self-projection, anticipation, delicious anticipation, the feeling that "something is missing" and that a bag, a perfume, a watch, a hotel room, or a dinner will fill that void. If some consumers experience a decline in their appetite for food, alcohol, or impulsive purchases, the question isn't whether luxury will mechanically " suffer ," but how it should interpret this shift in the psychological climate.
Desire: the historical driving force of luxury, beyond need
Desire and need are often confused. Need seeks to fill an objective lack; desire, on the other hand, creates an imaginary lack, or rather a promise of transformation.
Luxury has thrived on this dynamic: silk, full-grain leather, cashmere, gold, diamonds, and precision watchmaking are not imposed by necessity, but by the symbolic weight they carry
Houses like Hermès, Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton, Cartier and Van Cleef & Arpels have built their power on a grammar of desire made up of rarity, history, craftsmanship, and social codes. The shoemaker, the leatherworker, the jeweler, the perfumer, the workshop, the raw materials: all these elements anchor the dream in the reality of expertise. Desire then becomes a narrative energy, a movement toward a clearer, more coherent, more desirable version of oneself, both in the eyes of others and in one's own.
If desire "dies," we must specify which desire we are talking about. Immediate, dopaminergic urges, which respond to rapid stimulation, are not the sole fuel of luxury. There is a slower kind of desire: the desire for quality, for time, for transmission. The contemporary challenge is to no longer depend solely on the former, which has become more fragile in a world of attentional fatigue and heightened control.
Ozempic, GLP-1 and the impulse economy: what really changes
GLP-1 receptors act on satiety mechanisms and, in some people, alter their relationship with "rewards": eating less, drinking less, experiencing fewer cravings. It would be simplistic to conclude from this an automatic decrease in all non-essential consumption. However, it is relevant to ask whether a portion of luxury spending, particularly that related to emotional buying, might be affected by a reduced pursuit of instant gratification.
Luxury has always played with the boundary betweenconsidered andimpulsive. A lipstick, a perfume, a pair of glasses, or an accessory can be a "micro-reward" purchase, while an iconic bag, a watch , or a piece of jewelry is more aligned with a broader vision. If the emotional climate shifts toward a more deliberate approach, luxury must reinforce what justifies the purchase: sustainability, practical value, heritage value, and cultural significance.
Another, more subtle effect relates to timing. When the appetite subsides, the obsession shifts. Some consumers may seek pleasure elsewhere: art, design, travel, self-care, sports, reading, hospitality. Luxury is not doomed; it is simply being urged to choose its areas of desire more carefully, and to make them more profound than merely exciting.
From the body "to be corrected" to the body "to be orchestrated": new aesthetics, new purchases
The body is a major consumer of luxury, even when it doesn't directly purchase it. It dictates cuts, sizes, silhouettes, and our relationship with the mirror. While weight-loss medications become, for some, a step in bodily transformation, fashion and beauty adapt to rapid changes: alterations, adjustments, wardrobe reconfigurations, and a renewed relationship with proportions.
This can support certain segments: bespoke tailoring, couture, and fashion houses capable of adapting a garment to a body in motion. The tailor, the head seamstress, and the pattern maker are once again becoming strategic. In ready-to-wear, the question of sizing and modularity arises differently: how to dress without confining, how to offer cuts that complement rather than judge?
In the beauty world, the debate goes beyond mere cosmetics. A changing face, reacting skin, a transformed self-perception: skincare becomes a language of identity. Premium skincare brands, clinics, hotel spas, and luxury dermocosmetics can embody a calmer, more continuous, less spectacular desire than a "compensatory" purchase.
When buying ceases to be a form of compensation: luxury versus emotional sobriety
Some consumption, even in the high-end market, is sometimes used to soothe an emotion: stress, fatigue, loneliness, boredom. In this context, the purchase acts as a switch. If some individuals experience fewer surges of desire, luxury loses an easy foothold: that of immediate gratification.
But this market, however profitable, is unstable. It exposes brands to cycles of euphoria and guilt, product returns, and image volatility. A more aligned, less "comforting" luxury can paradoxically gain in long-term desirability. The question becomes: what is worth buying when we no longer buy for solace?
The answer often lies in consistency. A luxury product is convincing when it embodies a set of values: quality materials, exquisite craftsmanship, repairability, after-sales service, traceability, and respect for time. Desire doesn't disappear; it simply shifts its focus and justification. It becomes less ostentatious, more discerning.
Prestige without excess: gastronomy, champagne and the art of living put to the test by new behaviors
While Ozempic and his contemporaries are redefining the relationship with food and alcohol for a segment of the public, the art of living must reinvent itself without losing its allure. Luxury hotels, Michelin-starred restaurants, hotel bars, and champagne houses cannot simply respond with calorie-laden excesses or rigid rituals.
We are already seeing the emergence of a luxury of lightness: sophisticated alcohol-free pairings, low-ABV cocktails, shorter but more precise menus, an emphasis on seasonal ingredients, local producers, sustainable fishing, herbs, and textures. The chef is becoming a composer of sensations rather than an architect of culinary feats. The luxury dining experience remains a stage, but the narrative is changing: less opulence, more nuance.
For hospitality, the promise shifts towards sleep, recovery, movement, care rituals, and attention to detail. Desire no longer necessarily involves excess; it involves the quality of the experience, the precision of the service, and the ability to create a lasting memory.
The new scarcity: time, attention, silence, repair
In a world saturated with images and alerts, attention has become a currency. The luxury sector understood this long ago, but the GLP-1 era is accentuating a trend: the appreciation of stability. If impulses diminish, consumers may prioritize what provides structure over what excites.
This opens up a world of possibilities for services that once seemed peripheral: repair, restoration, personalization, patina, and service. A bag is no longer just a symbol; it becomes a companion to be cared for. A watch is no longer simply a status symbol; it's a mechanism to be serviced. The time spent in the workshop becomes part of the product, and you also pay for the peace of mind it provides.
This kind of scarcity is difficult to replicate. It doesn't depend on a logo, but on an organization: trained artisans, spare parts, a value chain planned over ten years, and a customer relationship that goes beyond a simple transaction. For groups like LVMH, Kering, or Richemont, the strategy is less about multiplying new products than about building ecosystems of trust around iconic brands.
Marketing of scarcity vs. marketing of meaning: changing the language without losing the dream
Luxury knows how to create scarcity. It also knows how to dramatize it: waiting lists, limited editions, drops, collaborations, teasers. This mechanism, however, can clash with a more "calm" consumer, less receptive to the game of urgency. When appetite wanes, urgency loses its power; it can even become irritating.
Meaningful marketing is not moralizing. It consists of connecting the object to a perceptible reason for being: an exceptional material, an impeccable cut, a workshop's history, a textile innovation, a sourced stone, an artistic commitment. Desire remains central, but it is fueled more by admiration than by excitement.
Editorial content is given pride of place here. A beautiful workshop film, a conversation with an artistic director, an immersion in a manufacturing process, an exhibition supported by a brand: these are not alibis, but proofs. Luxury, when well told, doesn't need to shout.
Fashion and the changing body: towards expanded made-to-measure and precise cuts
If our silhouette changes more rapidly, the question of fit becomes paramount. Made-to-measure clothing, long reserved for an elite, can be reimagined as a more accessible premium service: alterations included, fitting programs, and non-normative body shape advice. We return to a simple idea: a luxury garment must fit perfectly, otherwise it is merely an expensive garment.
Materials also play a role. Silk, fine wool, cashmere, intricate knits, and supple leathers move with the body without restricting it. Luxury can champion a less demonstrative sensuality: that of touch, fluidity, and comfort. This kind of sensuality is more resistant to the fluctuations of trends because it appeals to the skin as much as to the eye.
Finally, the issue of body image must be handled with sensitivity. A world where medical transformations are visible calls for responsible discourse: neither naive celebration nor stigmatization. Those brands that can speak of freedom, personal style, and the diversity of body shapes without opportunism will gain rare credibility.
Luxury as culture: art, jewelry, perfume, design – all non-food desires
While our era may be turning away from certain forms of excess, it is not turning away from beauty. It may even be embracing it more strongly. Jewelry, for example, responds to a desire for timelessness: a stone transcends generations, a setting speaks of mastery, a piece of jewelry is worn like a punctuation mark. The great houses know how to infuse it with narrative, but also with permanence.
Perfume offers another path. It is neither caloric nor cumbersome, and yet it alters self-perception. It is an intimate, everyday, almost philosophical luxury: choosing a signature scent is choosing a way of being in the world. Perfumers, raw materials, the precision of a formula, and longevity on the skin become a form of inner language.
Design and art, finally, embody a luxury of mental space. A piece of furniture, a ceramic, a photograph, a rare book: these objects don't "console," they structure a universe. In an attention economy, owning less but better, inhabiting a more authentic interior, can become one of the new pinnacles of prestige.
What houses need to measure: weak signals, data, and respect for the customer
The temptation, when faced with a phenomenon like Ozempic, would be to over-interpret and panic. However, the luxury sector, more than other industries, must avoid hysterical responses. It must observe: which segments are holding up, which channels are contracting, which categories are gaining in perceived value. The data exists, but it must be interpreted with sensitivity, as the subject touches on personal matters and health.
One point is crucial: do not turn the client into a symptom. Luxury is an art of relationship, based on listening and discretion.
If new behaviors emerge, the right response is not to aggressively profile, but to improve the experience: advice, service, personalization, quality. Loyalty is built on trust, not intrusion.
Companies that invest in the long term, in workshops, in training salespeople, in repairs, in creative consistency, will weather the cycles better.
