That humans—supposedly the smartest creatures in the known universe—splurge thousands of dollars on pointless baubles all to get the validation of strangers never ceases to amaze me:

Even as luxury goods have become unattainable for those French and Italians meant to desire them, they have become near-ubiquitous for the foreign moneyed masses. Luxury houses sell the idea of scarcity, with hordes of publicists explaining that the years-long wait for a Birkin handbag is due to the lack of sufficient artisans to craft these pinnacles of refinement. This is a fairy tale stitched in fine silk. The luxury-goods industry has roughly tripled in size since 2000; its €358bn in annual sales—half a Walmart or Amazon, give or take—betrays how thoroughly mainstream supposed exclusivity has become. Fifty years ago, Louis Vuitton had but two outlets, both in France. These days it has two stores in Ningbo, China’s 34th-biggest city. Exclusive, moi?

Perhaps one should laud Europeans, who saw a group of mugs willing to wait years for the right to buy a €50,000 Swiss watch and obligingly took their money. Once upon a time, the church in Europe sold indulgences to shorten the buyers’ stays in purgatory. Now luxury’s high priests sell trinkets meant to shorten their clients’ stay in social obscurity. America exports F-35s. South Korea exports K-Pop. Europe has found a way to export self-worth.