You Are What You Eat: Celebrity Food & Recession Era Merchandise
Words: Mia Autumn Roe
We’re all familiar with celebrity endorsed foods: Kate Moss for Diet Coke, Justin Bieber and Tim Horton’s, Snoop Dogg and JustEat, and who could forget the entire cottage industry of celebrity wines like the Kylie Minogue fizz or Gary Barlow vintage? But in recent years we’re seeing celebrity food collabs reborn: menuitem exclusives for a limited time only, created by A-listers to push their album, product, tour, or sometimes because ‘they just really love the brand.’
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We are in the era of the mukbang and the chef-luencer, so of course some celebrities are following suit. While we might just buy a Kylie Minogue Prosecco for the novelty, some celebs are pushing their specific brands through their products: take the combination of exotic fruit and collagen powders in Hailey Bieber’s ‘Skin Glaze’ Erewhon smoothie, a flavour that according to food reviewers might possibly ‘be the best they’ve ever had.
Though almost definitely overpriced for what it is, Bieber’s $20 smoothie, launched in 2022 amongst other notable brand deals, became a perfect example of Leonard Lauder’s Lipstick Effect Theory: the idea that during an economic crisis, buyers are more inclined to indulge themselves with smaller luxuries such as lipsticks, than fork out for dramatic, wallet-busting purchases.
For those who can’t afford the Rhode moisturiser that the drink was promoting, this (slightly) cheaper alternative is basically promised to give the same effect. Foodie collaborations, then, offer the taste of being involved in celebrity fan culture – a sense of inclusion for those who may not be able to afford other, more expensive buy-ins – but can spare a few coins on a little sweet treat at a cheaper price point.
“For those who can’t afford the Rhode moisturiser that the drink was promoting, this (slightly) cheaper alternative is basically promised to give the same effect.”
In contrast with the past, social currency and the desire to ‘belong’ comes no longer from owning something outright, but being a part of a shared multi-sensory experience. But there’s an argument that says that the satisfaction of procuring a consumable item by your favourite singer or media star is fleeting and impermanent – and so the only thing to do is buy and eat it again.
Plus, eating what your idol eats feels strangely more intimate than wearing a shirt with their face on, right? As opposed to simply being the representative and endorser of a brand, a celebrity launching their own smoothie or burger gives the impression that this food truly is something the celebrity would eat. By buying it and eating it, you’re also getting a chew of who you think this person is; their favourite foods, flavours and cheat meals. We’re buying into a false sense of friendship, knowledge, and perhaps the desire that in eating what they eat, we can become like them too.
This edible relatability has proved a strong antidote for celebrities who’ve been previously heckled for their unobtainable lifestyles. Nobody wants to see a celebrity complain that they’ve ripped their favourite jeans as they emerge from a Porsche. The era of the influencer has pencilled a line, with the rise of ordinary vloggers capturing their morning routines, mundane plans, and how they’ve rotted in bed for the past two days. These are things most people can relate to, and so these influencers are trusted more, with our money & our time. Mainstream stars are now being pressured to rethink their strategies and it seems to be working, because is there anything more relatable than the simple act of eating? It really puts the ‘consumption’ into being a consumer.