
By Olivia DuCharme and Leila Milgrim
The luxury market is in flux — and no, we're not just talking about tariffs.
Despite Black Friday sales hitting an all-time high last year, the S&P Global Luxury Index has dropped by more than 20 percent, according to The Economist. With luxury prices going up and quality going down, many people are opting for dupes — or even, as Magasin reports, “reverse dupes,” higher-quality replicas of “cute, cheap stuff” from brands like Zara or Aritzia that won’t “fall apart at the touch.”
As fewer people can afford luxury, and more of those who can are questioning whether it’s worth it, luxury brands are rethinking how they can stay relevant in a market that no longer plays by old rules.
Entering “Heirloomcore”
Prada just bought Versace. Louis Vuitton is partnering with Pat McGrath, makeup artist and cultural figure, to launch a beauty line. And even Miu Miu, one of the most popular luxury brands that has been “defying” the market slowdown, is launching a fragrance line of its own this spring.
But even though the market is in flux, the idea of luxury is thriving. At risk of sounding chronically online, enter what we’re calling heirloomcore: a new sector of luxury for audiences equal parts idealistic and practical.
Heirloomcore items aren’t “little luxuries” like a $115 Diptyque candle or a $430 dachshund bag charm — they’re items that feel intentional, personal, and precious. These pieces are high-quality, if not handmade; customizable to reflect individual taste; presented as a “keepsake” or “heirloom” rather than a seasonal trend, popular on social platforms but not ubiquitous in real life and priced at that sweet spot.
They are just expensive enough to make you think twice, but not so expensive that you feel guilty about clicking “buy.”
Perhaps heirloomcore is best illustrated by an example: Louise Carmen, a French family-owned brand that’s been gaining a quiet-but-steady following in the TikTok journaling community. Encased in vegetable-tanned leather, tied together with a customized cord, and decorated with delicate charms, Louise Carmen notebooks are a Gen Z dream.
You can choose its size and leather and cord color, deck it out with the charms of your choosing, and even engrave it with your name or monogram. With prices starting at 129 euros and climbing to almost 300 euros, depending on what size you’d like and how much personalization suits your fancy, Louise Carmen notebooks check every heirloomcore box, and the fact that they’re already being duped only underscores their cultural currency.
But they’re far from the only heirloomcore item reshaping what “luxury” looks like now. Consider Cosa Ceramica’s $120 Eternal Note, a now sold-out delicate ceramic dish molded to mimic a gently worn letter.
Customers send in a handwritten message — a love note, an old birthday card — and find it transformed from “a fleeting moment into a lasting keepsake.” The Eternal Note restock announcement received over 1.5 million views on TikTok, with over a thousand comments ranging from “Lovely treasures” to “This is so beautiful it brought me to tears.”
Then there’s Guerlain’s Rouge G lipsticks. Yes, Guerlain is owned by LVMH, but the French beauty and skincare brand has retained its quality and standards, and Rouge G goes further than most designer makeup. With twenty-four shades to choose from and ornate cases that can be engraved, studded, or bedazzled, each lipstick is, as its product description reads, “intended to be refilled, kept, and passed on.”
Even the Art Deco packaging plays into the heirloom fantasy: a “secret” double-mirrored compact with the gravitas of a family locket. With a customized case priced at $38 and the lipstick itself at $42, you’re looking at an $80 product, but that doesn’t seem to have deterred anyone.
While these products may not all come from mainstream luxury houses, they tap into the same instincts that made “luxury” aspirational in the first place: beauty, identity and permanence, with a layer of emotional depth that traditional brands seem to have strayed away from.
The “Lipstick Effect” versus “Heirloomcore”
Predictably, current economic uncertainty has triggered the “lipstick effect,” the well-documented phenomenon where consumers who can no longer afford big-ticket luxury items turn to small indulgences like premium cosmetics for emotional satisfaction. But heirloomcore reveals a parallel and distinct consumer response that luxury marketers must understand.
Where the lipstick effect embodies temporary pleasure through brand association, heirloomcore represents investment in lasting satisfaction.
Lipstick effect purchases are consumable, trend-sensitive and emotionally immediate — they deliver a brief hit of luxury because they’re from a prestigious brand. Heirloomcore purchases, by contrast, are durable, timeless and emotionally cumulative.
Their “luxury” value grows the longer they last, not the faster they’re used. That’s why the Rouge G’s product description deliberately suggests people keep the case and pass it on.
Crucially, both the lipstick effect and heirloomcore can coexist — and often within the same consumer. A shopper might pick up a Dior lipstick and a Louise Carmen journal in the same month.
The difference lies in intent: one is meant to be used up, the other to be kept forever.
For luxury marketers, understanding this distinction offers a strategic edge. While the lipstick effect tends to fade when economic conditions improve and consumers return to major purchases, heirloomcore signals a deeper, more enduring shift in what consumers value.
Brands that can satisfy both impulses — offering both consumable little luxuries and keepsake-quality pieces — will find themselves uniquely positioned to weather market fluctuations.
What heirloomcore means for luxury marketers
The rise of heirloomcore also reflects a generational shift, demonstrating that, like anyone else, Gen Z wants to be able to show something off. But flaunting an “it” item isn’t enough — not for a generation fatigued by fast fashion, skeptical of legacy brands, and hyper-aware of both economic and environmental precarity.
When trend cycles last two weeks and yesterday’s it-item becomes today’s clearance tab, luxury needs to capture more than just what’s in right now; it should be able to sit on a shelf or a desk or in a memory box for years to come, still intact, still meaningful.
Heirloomcore achieves both present and future aspirations, offering the thrill of showing something off and the comfort of knowing it might still matter if your child wanted it a few decades from now. It’s “look what I found” meets “this will outlast me.”
For luxury marketers navigating this shifting landscape, the message is clear: while the lipstick effect may drive short-term upticks in purchasing during economic uncertainty, heirloomcore represents a more profound, lasting shift in what audiences are searching for. While both spending motivations will persist, brands that offer heirloomcore attributes — quality, personalization, and emotional resonance — will position themselves for relevance now and influence long after.
Think of it this way: in a world where everything feels disposable, the most powerful thing a brand can offer is something worth holding onto.