Conspicuous Consumption: The Forgotten Chinese Custom of Frugality

Confucius once wrote in his Book of Rites, “Don’t give in to desires.” Emphasize needs, rather than wants, and only attain what is required. My parents, though not philosophers, repeated similar ideas whenever I spent more than necessary. Such is the idea of frugality in East Asian culture. You save first, then spend what you have left.

It makes sense that my parents taught me to live sparingly at such a young age, given their backgrounds. Raised during the Cultural Revolution, my mom learned to value the items she had, spending conservatively and only on large investments such as a car or house. Likewise, my dad grew up poor in a small town in Northern Thailand and moved to Bangkok when he was 13. Living by himself, he taught himself skills of managing money, emphasizing frugality.

However, today’s generation is forgetting their parents’ teachings. Online shopping booms in China have prompted consumerism, and even overseas, Chinese expatriates have injected millions of dollars into the designer industry. Now, when I walk past a group of Chinese in Wangfujing Street in Beijing, the Bund in Shanghai, or even Orchard Road in Singapore, I drown in a sea of flashy logos. I feel out of place, even though I know I’m dressed normally, and I feel an odd sense of embarrassment regarding my own culture—as if they’ve failed to recall the cultural values of humility held since the beginning.

Although I laugh now, I can’t say I’m completely different from these showboaters. Not too long ago, I also wanted to be covered in name brands, “dripped out” in designer. And who could blame me? Such a display of wealth was exactly what I needed to be noticed and gain attention. But that thought died when I observed a flock of Chinese tourists on my summer trip to Italy. Like raucous crows, they made a scene with their yammering, and I realized that wearing similar clothes could place me into the wrong group—which had plenty of unwanted social labels. 

Excessively flaunting luxury from Chinese young adults has led to the Western world catching on. As a result, stereotypes have emerged, and most have been making waves on social media platforms. For example, on TikTok, creators have pushed the image of the “Chinese international student”, who smothers themselves in luxury clothes and accessories while acting like they own the place. Subsequently, prejudiced ideas surrounding Asian college students have become prevalent in university settings (Xie). With such a notion spreading only in recent years, it is obvious to single out the reason: their conspicuous consumption.

Conspicuous consumption is “the purchase of goods or services for the specific purpose of displaying one's wealth (Kenton).” Although there have been peaks and troughs of how common this practice is historically, it has mostly pervaded Western culture. Yet, in this case, the Chinese have fallen prey to this concept. Chinese consumerism can be traced back to a few reasons. Perhaps the most glaring one is the large online shopping scene catering to the young Chinese, both in China and overseas. Massive campaigns run yearly by Taobao and JD such as 11.11 (Singles Day) and 6.18 lead to an almost indoctrination to shop. Online advertisements are placed all over social media platforms like Douyin and Weibo, billboard banners are raised with massive characters pushing for people to buy, buy, buy, and wild sale cuts ranging from 50 to even 80 percent are highlighted on the homepage of websites. Because older adults aren’t as familiar with the structure of these online retail sites, the buying is mostly left to the new generation. Young netizens spend big, filling up their shopping carts and checking out immediately, eager to try on their new clothes, watches, and jewelry. My cousins back in China, for example, always show up with new handbags and perfume after one of these “holidays”. When my exasperated grandma asks why they have to get a new one every year, they respond with how low the price is and how it's such a good deal. It’s the trendy young ones like these that drive up the earnings of online retail companies: the profits generated by these shopping festivals completely overshadow Western ones like Black Friday and Cyber Monday.

Furthermore, the younger generation is also easily influenced by fashion trends on social media. With apps such as Douyin having a “strong 73 percent of Chinese luxury consumers on board,” it’s easy to see how portrayals of others wearing designer clothing can impact millennials in China (Vogue Business). What’s even more shocking is that “in the first half of 2023, 66 percent of the top 100 search words on Douyin were dedicated to brands—names like Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Cartier, and Bulgari experienced a surge in popularity” (Vogue Business). It doesn’t help that celebrities, such as model and actress Fan Bingbing and singer Jay Chou join in as promoters, becoming brand ambassadors and posting their outfits on social media. With this, it’s clear that social media marketing is another area that encourages Chinese millennials to forget about frugality and focus on fashion.

With people forgetting or choosing to ignore frugality in society and companies trying to drive people away from this notion, it raises the question of why saving money even matters in the first place. If you earn enough money, why would you have to save any? However, this thinking is flat-out wrong.

There are numerous issues with buying so much fashion, and one is simply because most can’t afford it. In other words, the Chinese buy now and worry later. Based on their spending habits, nobody would expect this to be a problem, but the reality is that “most citizens remain too poor to purchase what they want” (McEwen). In fact, “only 5% of Chinese say they’re `very satisfied` with their household incomes,” and although Chinese incomes increased by 30% from 1997 to 2004, the average income was still below 1,800 USD. More people were dissatisfied than satisfied with how much they were earning, which is jarring considering the amount of money they blow on frivolous products.

This leads to another glaring problem—research within the Chinese population has shown that “Chinese consumers want more than just function” in their products (McEwen). The new Chinese generation wants fancy new toys, “fun” products such as stereos and digital cameras (McEwen). Other items that have seen a rise in purchases, such as TVs, mobile phones, refrigerators, and air conditioners, are mostly bought to upgrade to the newest release. I remember begging for a new iPhone from my grandma one summer, even though I had gotten one just the year before. Like me, the younger generation wants to spend money, but they do so without regard for what’s necessary. They’ve forgotten about buying things for their function; instead, they buy things to keep up with the latest trends, satisfying their desires rather than their needs, forgetting about frugality. 

This boils down to the largest issue of all: the increased importance the opinion of others has on the younger generation. Fashion in China has exploded in recent years, and more importantly, younger Chinese are more focused on the perceptions of the men and women on the street. People walking will glance over and notice the brands passersby have on, which then leads to a sense of insecurity if they don’t own the same brands. Specifically, young Chinese people have this crippling thought that if they don’t own the brands that others own, or aren’t on top of trends, then they will be looked down upon, forgotten, or cast out. Part of this can be gauged back to China’s massive population, where it is hard to make any noise as an individual. Part of this is also due to the country’s fast-paced environment that leaves many behind. These internal conflicts drive the new generation to an almost herd-like state, always trying to stay fashionable and buy more of what’s in style, rather than what they like.

With this in mind, the glaring problem of Chinese society has become much more complicated. There’s no one-and-done solution, as reducing consumerism isn’t necessarily a good thing—it can lead to less spending and therefore less economic growth. On the other hand, if this sort of overconsumption continues, many of the middle- and lower-class Chinese won’t be able to keep up while spending wisely, and will go broke on trying to catch the newest trends. Although the main concern should be shifting the spending from fashionable goods to items that are more functional, there remain many questions left unanswered. Only time can truly shift the culture back and remind the new generation the true meaning of frugality.