The subtle peer pressure of “quiet luxury” on campus: Is this the new silent standard?

How many times have you walked out of a lecture hall or a communal area and felt the need to upgrade your tech, replace your water bottle, purchase a new clothing article, or even just wanting to buy something simply because you saw many people carrying it on campus?

It’s almost as if in public spaces, a quiet but unmistakable trend has taken hold: the rise of “quiet luxury” among university students. Unlike flashy designer labels, this post-pandemic trend is marked by expensive but understated items — MacBooks, iPads with Apple Pencils, Stanley or Owala tumblers, minimalist Arc’teryx or Aritzia jackets, and New Balance sneakers. These objects don’t scream wealth — they whisper it. On campuses where social dynamics are always shifting, this subtle form of status signaling has become an unspoken norm.

“It’s not just about having nice things,” said Aliza Ali, a second-year economics undergraduate. “It feels like you need them. No one pressures you directly, but you feel it.”

For many students, these items represent more than just convenience or durability — they symbolize belonging. The allure of “quiet luxury” lies in its ability to exude prestige without overt excess. Unlike traditional luxury brands that flaunt status through logos, this new wave of high-end products is rooted in quality, exclusivity, and understated elegance. The student with the latest MacBook Air and noise-cancelling AirPods may not be trying to show off, but their choices subtly reinforce a hierarchy of access and privilege.

For some, these items are seen as investments in academic success. High-performance laptops assist with coding assignments, tablets simplify note-taking, noise-canceling headphones enhance focus during study blocks, and Apple Watches or Oura Rings track and measure workouts or sleep cycles. While these tools undoubtedly offer advantages, they also reinforce a sense of exclusivity, making it harder for students without them to feel like they’re on an equal playing field.

The normalization of quiet luxury on campus creates an environment where high-end products become the baseline expectation. While some students without these items don’t feel left out, others do — but those who own them may not realize how their possessions shape social dynamics. Study groups form around common devices — sharing notes is easiest when everyone is using an iPad with Notability or GoodNotes. The rise of aesthetic-driven productivity content on social media further fuels the pressure, making it seem like success is tied not just to hard work but also to having the right tools.

​​Social media plays a massive role in perpetuating and heightening the quiet luxury trend. Study vlogs, specific niche TikToks, and “day in my life” videos often showcase well-curated, aesthetic study spaces featuring high-end tech and accessories. These videos create an illusion that these items are necessary for success, fuelling comparison culture among students. Many influencers have brand partnerships with trending brands such as Owala, Amazon, Apple, and Lenovo, further reinforcing the false perception of success and self-care. As students frequently encounter these products, they may begin to see them as essential, fostering a sense that owning them is necessary for achievement or well-being.

Platforms like Instagram and TikTok also drive the resale market for these items. Second-hand marketplaces for designer bags, headphones, and high-end tech allow students to participate in the trend at a slightly lower price point, but the pressure to keep up remains. Even with discounts, the financial burden persists, leading to an ongoing cycle of aspirational spending.

“I saved up for months just to get an iPad and the expensive pencil you need for it because everyone else in my program had one,” shares Daniel Tsao, a second-year biology student. “It felt like I had to buy in just to stay on the same level.”

A UW professor from the science faculty, who asked to remain anonymous, has noticed this shift firsthand in his lectures. 

“For my course, iPads are absolutely not required, yet I see more and more students using them. It’s becoming the norm — almost as if it’s a form of social signalling — rather than an exception. A simple notebook would suffice, yet I sometimes wonder if students feel pressured to have one just because the person sitting next to them has one rather than for any real academic advantage.”

This phenomenon extends beyond mere preference — it becomes a social mechanism for fitting in. 

“I think people resort to buying items they see around campus in order to fit in with others, even if it’s just subtly. People may also resort to buying ‘quiet luxury’ items to avoid being judged or stereotyped as ‘not as wealthy.’ You often see groups of people around campus with the same sort of aesthetic,” said Ella Crawford, a fourth-year psychology student. “Some students may view aesthetic matching as a way to potentially make friends and/or be accepted by others. It is important to note though that sometimes people are not consciously aware of their purchasing decisions. They may buy something that is popular around campus without actually realizing that’s the only reason they are buying it.”

While some can afford these items with ease, others resort to stretching their finances, feeling that owning a particular laptop or water bottle is essential for fitting in. The desire to match peers may lead to increased spending on tech gadgets, apparel, and accessories — sometimes at the cost of more essential expenses like textbooks or groceries. The cycle of quiet luxury creates a subtle divide between those who can keep up effortlessly and those who struggle to do so.

 When campuses are filled with the same “quiet luxury” staples, personal style becomes homogenized. The emphasis on minimalism and neutral aesthetics leaves little room for uniqueness, making self-expression feel like a paradox — everyone looks put-together, but in the same way.

Awareness is the first step in addressing the quiet luxury phenomenon on campus. Recognizing the social pressures at play allows students to make more intentional choices about their purchases, distinguishing between what they truly need and what they feel pressured to own. 

Ultimately, quiet luxury will likely continue to shape campus culture, but its influence doesn’t have to be absolute. By challenging the silent standards of status, can students redefine what belonging really means — beyond the brand of their laptop or the bottle they carry to class?