In Ancient Rome, it took roughly 20,000 to 100,000 crushed sea snails to create a single purple toga. The color served no practical purpose. That was the entire point.
Wearing purple without permission was a capital crime because the effort required proved something money alone couldn’t: power. If someone can afford to waste this many resources on a single piece of cloth, how powerful must they be?
Fast forward a couple thousand years and the logic hasn’t changed much. Trader Joe’s sells canvas totes for $2.99. They’re sturdy, nicely designed, and functional. In the U.S., they’re everywhere. But overseas, in cities like London, Seoul, and Tokyo where there are no Trader Joe’s stores, people have listed them online for as much as $50,000.
The bag didn’t change. What changed was location. The culture. And with that, the signal.
The bag is valuable not because of what it does, but the signal it sends, signifying an entire unspoken code of class, status, and worldview.
In cities where Trader Joe’s doesn’t exist, carrying one means you either traveled to America or know someone who did. It means you’re the kind of person who notices these things, who collects them, who’s in on it.
The bag separates aesthetic from meaning. You get the look of being culturally literate without needing the actual story.
This is how signals work. A $20,000 Rolex keeps no better time than a $20 Casio. A million-dollar Tiffany lamp lights a room no better than something from Ikea. Few things are both functional and a signal. Most things are one or the other.
Which is why a $20,000 car isn’t a status symbol, but a $20,000 watch is.
The businesses and brands that create irrational loyalty don’t always build superior products. They craft signals that people want to send.
