How Brands Build Games, Literally and Strategically
How Brands Build Games, Literally and Strategically
"Luxury is a joke. The moment you stop laughing, it becomes an insult."
There is an old, unwritten rule in the high temples of fashion that silence is golden. For decades, the hallmark of true luxury was distance. Brands like Chanel, Saint Laurent, and Hermes operated like monarchies: distinct, serious, and imposing. They stood on pedestals, and the consumer stood below, looking up.
But the atmosphere has shifted. In the age of the meme, the drop, and the digital avatar, the pedestal has been replaced by a leaderboard.
There is a famous ethos, often attributed in spirit to the late Karl Lagerfeld, that suggests that without a wink, luxury is vulgar. If a brand takes itself too seriously—if it demands thousands of dollars for a handbag without acknowledging the inherent absurdity of the transaction—it feels grotesque. It feels old.
To survive in the modern landscape, luxury houses have had to learn how to play. They are building games, not just in the metaphorical sense of market competition, but in two very specific ways: literally, by entering the world of video games and the metaverse, and strategically, by turning the purchasing journey itself into a complex, high-stakes game of skill, luck, and loyalty.
This is how the new luxury economy works: It is no longer a temple; it is a playground.
Part 1: The Philosophy of the "Wink"
Why is the "wink" necessary?
We live in an era of radical transparency and economic disparity. The consumer knows the margins. They know the supply chain (or lack thereof). They see the artifice. For a brand to present a $1,500 hoodie with the grim seriousness of a papal decree is to invite ridicule.
The "wink" is the mechanism of self-awareness. It is the brand saying, "We know this is ridiculous. You know this is ridiculous. But isn't it fun?"
The Irony of Consumption
The masters of the "wink" are brands like Balenciaga and Moschino, and the late Virgil Abloh’s Off-White.
Balenciaga releases a leather tote bag that looks identical to an IKEA shopping bag or a literal trash bag, priced at $2,000.
Off-White puts "shoelaces" in quotes on shoelaces.
MSCHF sells "Birkinstocks"—sandals made from chopped-up Birkin bags.
These are not mistakes; they are inside jokes. By engaging in irony, these brands inoculate themselves against criticism. You cannot mock them for being out of touch because they have already mocked themselves. This playfulness transforms the act of spending money from a vulgar display of wealth into a knowing participation in a cultural game.
Without this irony—without the wink—luxury is just expensive stuff. With the wink, it becomes cultural commentary.
Part 2: Literally Building Games (The Arcade)
The first way luxury brands are gamifying their existence is the most obvious: they are becoming video game developers.
For Generation Z and Alpha, the "Metaverse" is not a buzzword; it is their third place. It is where they socialize, flex, and exist. Luxury brands realized that if they didn't have a skin in the game (literally), they would cease to exist for the next generation of consumers.
1. The Balenciaga x Fortnite Collision
When Balenciaga partnered with Fortnite, it wasn't just a billboard. They created digital skins—high-fashion armor for avatars. This was a masterstroke of accessibility vs. exclusivity. Most Fortnite players cannot afford a physical Balenciaga jacket. But they can afford the skin. This trains the young consumer to associate the brand with identity and aspiration long before they have the credit limit to buy the physical goods. It is a long-game strategy: capture the digital identity first, and the physical wallet will follow.
2. Louis The Game
To celebrate its founder's 200th birthday, Louis Vuitton didn't release a coffee table book; they released a mobile platformer game, Louis The Game. Players controlled a mascot, collecting candles and—crucially—hunting for embedded NFTs (Non-Fungible Tokens).
The shift: The brand moved from passive consumption (looking at an ad) to active engagement (grinding through a level).
The metric: They weren't measuring sales; they were measuring time spent in-universe.
3. Gucci Garden in Roblox
Gucci created a persistent space in Roblox where users could buy digital bags. In a moment of fascinating economic absurdity, a digital Gucci Dionysus bag in the game resold for more Robux (the in-game currency) than the actual cash value of the real bag in the real world. This proved the thesis: The value of luxury is not in the material (leather/thread); it is in the signal. If the signal is strong enough in a game, the item is real.
Part 3: Strategically Building Games (The Mechanics of Desire)
While the literal games grab headlines, the strategic games are where the money is made. This is the gamification of the customer journey itself.
Modern luxury shopping utilizes the same psychological triggers as gambling and RPGs (Role Playing Games): scarcity, tiered access, random rewards (drops), and "leveling up."
1. The Drop Model: "Fastest Finger First"
Borrowed from Supreme and sneaker culture, the "Drop" turns shopping into a competitive sport.
The Rules: Inventory is released at a specific, unannounced (or barely announced) time.
The Skill: Speed. Bot usage. Insider info.
The Payoff: Dopamine. Securing an item via a drop feels like a win, not a purchase.
When a customer "wins" a pair of limited-edition sneakers on the SNKRS app, the relief and excitement they feel is chemically identical to winning a hand of poker. The product becomes a trophy. If you could simply walk into a store and buy it, the "game" would be over, and for many modern consumers, the desire would evaporate.
2. The Hermès Quest: Leveling Up
Hermès is the original dungeon master of luxury. You cannot simply walk in and buy a Birkin or Kelly bag. That is a "level 10" item, and you are a "level 1" player.
The Grind: You must purchase other items first—scarves, sandals, home goods (often called "quota bags" or "pre-spend").
The Relationship: You must court a Sales Associate (SA). The SA is the gatekeeper (the NPC). You must build rapport.
The Boss Battle: Eventually, you are "offered" a bag. You don't get to choose the color or the leather. You are offered the privilege of spending $12,000.
This is pure game design. It creates a "sunk cost" dynamic where the customer is so invested in the "pre-spend" that they cannot leave the ecosystem. It turns the act of buying into a quest for approval.
3. Token-Gated Luxury
We are moving toward a world where your purchase history is an immutable record on a blockchain. Brands are exploring "token-gated" commerce.
Example: Only holders of a specific NFT (proof that you bought a specific watch in 2022) are allowed to access the website to buy the new jacket in 2024.
This creates a loyalty loop. You have to play the game today to be eligible for the game tomorrow.
Part 4: Why "Vulgarity" is the Enemy
Let’s return to the title. Why is luxury "vulgar" without this playfulness?
Vulgarity implies a lack of sophistication. It is the rich person who screams, "Do you know who I am?" True luxury—the "wink"—is the rich person who wears a tuxedo with sneakers, or a ballgown to the grocery store.
When brands fail to gamify, they risk looking transactional.
Transactional: "Give me money, I give you [bag]." (Boring. Cold. Vulgar.)
Gamified: "Join our world. decipher the code. Be fast. Be lucky. If you succeed, you unlock the bag." (Engaging. Hot. Exclusive.)
The "wink" is the acknowledgement that we are all playing a role. When Balenciaga sends models down the runway in mud, or when MSCHF sells an ATM that ranks users by their bank balance, they are holding up a mirror to society. They are playing a game with capitalism itself.
If a brand refuses to play—if they insist on the old ways of silent, stiff reverence—they don't look prestigious anymore. They look like they don't get the joke. And in fashion, being the one who doesn't get the joke is a death sentence.
Part 5: The Future of the Game
As we look forward, the line between the "literal" game (video games) and the "strategic" game (shopping) will vanish completely.
We will see Phygital goods become the standard. Buying the physical coat unlocks the skin in the game; leveling up in the game grants you access to buy the physical coat. The currency of the future is not just dollars—it is engagement, lore, and "play."
The New Rules for Brands
Don't Sell, Challenge: Make the customer work for it. Easy access is the enemy of desire.
Don't Preach, Play: Stop talking about "heritage" in a vacuum. Let users interact with the heritage.
The Wink is Mandatory: Acknowledge the absurdity. If you are selling a $500 keychain, have a sense of humor about it.
Conclusion
Luxury has always been about excess. But in the 20th century, that excess was defined by materials—gold, silk, diamonds. In the 21st century, the excess is defined by experience and irony.
The brands that will define the next decade are the ones that understand they are not building cathedrals; they are building arcades. They are designing loops of desire, risk, and reward. They are teaching us that while money can buy things, only those who know how to play the game can possess the "cool."
Without the game, and without the wink, it’s just commerce. And commerce is terribly vulgar.