Does empowerment come with a barcode? In today’s world, brands seem to think so. There’s a product tied to every milestone women hit—whether it’s landing a promotion, buying a house, or surviving something life-altering. And somewhere along the way, empowerment started to feel less like a movement and more like a marketing strategy.
This isn’t a hot take or a polished manifesto. Think of it more as a long, lingering thought that’s been sitting with me—one that finally demanded attention after an evening spent reviewing dozens of ad campaigns. Somewhere between campaign #7 and #19, a pattern clicked. I haven’t been able to unsee it since.
When Empowerment Comes in Packaging
Campaigns aimed at women rarely just sell a product. Instead, they sell a feeling—freedom, ambition, strength—tied neatly to an object. The message sounds something like this: “You’ve overcome so much. You’ve dreamed big. Now, buy this lipstick.” Or, “You bought your first car? Here’s a diamond ring to mark your independence.”
I remember the excitement when Barbie launched its “You Can Be an Astronaut” edition. As someone who grew up with the classic blonde version, I wished I had seen that kind of representation earlier. Maybe I would’ve ended up in a STEM field. But I also remember how that same Barbie subtly taught me that gaining a little weight was unacceptable. Representation matters, but so do the motives behind it.
Here’s the catch: yes, representation is powerful. Yes, visibility matters. But when that representation is always paired with a price tag, it starts to feel a little… manipulative. The message isn’t just “you can be anything,” it’s “you can be anything—and here’s something to buy along the way.”
Selling Struggles Back to Us
It’s not inherently wrong for brands to align themselves with empowerment. After all, their job is to sell. But when every feminist milestone becomes a sales opportunity, you start to wonder: are we really progressing, or are we just being marketed to more cleverly?
The glossy campaigns we see today are arguably just a rebranded version of older, more exploitative tactics. Remember fairness creams and the dreams they sold? The genie’s the same; the bottle just looks more progressive now.
That said, I do love seeing women front and center in media—owning homes, leading teams, building futures. Those images matter. But do I need to buy a ring every time I accomplish something? Probably not.
Empowerment Sells. And Brands Know It.
As audiences demanded more authenticity, brands began tailoring messages to identities—women, LGBTQ+ people, working moms. The intent sounded good. But what happened in practice was that identity became a sales segment. Being a woman wasn’t just who you are—it became a reason to sell you things.
A few campaigns get it right. Ariel’s “Share the Load” didn’t try to sell detergent by telling women to treat themselves for working hard. It addressed a real systemic issue—domestic labor inequality—and included men in the conversation. That’s a narrative that elevates rather than exploits.
But mostly, brands learned that selling empowerment is easier than embodying it. Why challenge wage inequality in your industry when you can just frame buying foundation as an act of rebellion?
The Surveillance Behind the Sale
Another reason we’ve reached this point? Brands know how we feel. Algorithms, cookies, tracking tools—they all build a map of our emotional states. If you’ve ever wondered why you see more “treat yourself” ads during your period, it’s probably not a coincidence.
With every scroll, tap, or click, we feed systems that predict our needs before we even speak them. If the data says I’m turning 30 and browsing homes, I’ll see ads nudging me to buy gold, invest in skincare, or “celebrate independence” with jewellery.
That data is valuable. And the emotional insights brands extract from it are even more so.
From Rituals to Retail
Historically, life milestones were marked by rituals—cultural, spiritual, communal. First periods, engagements, childbirth, housewarmings—these weren’t always commercial. They were moments shared with people, not products.
But in modern urban life, especially where loneliness is rampant, brands have stepped into the space community used to occupy. No one to throw a housewarming? Here’s a designer chandelier instead. No one to cheer you on for a promotion? Here’s a curated box of “self-care” gifts.
In the absence of human connection, consumerism has found a way to stand in.
What Even Is Self-Love Anymore?
Self-love used to be about inner work—boundaries, healing, hard conversations. But now, it’s been shrink-wrapped and sold back to us. Bubble baths. Serums. Journals with prewritten prompts. Retail therapy dressed up as healing.
And sure, buying something nice can make us feel good. But it’s easier to sell bubble bath than it is to fix the societal issues that make women feel inadequate in the first place. Easier to slap a “love yourself” sticker on a box of chocolates than address the pink tax.
Personalisation or Just Polished Exploitation?
We’ve willingly handed over our data—often in the name of convenience—and now our feelings, habits, and emotional triggers are being used to refine algorithms and train AI models. And what do we get in return?
A better product recommendation? A prettier ad?
Frankly, if brands are mining my emotional state for profit, where’s my cut? If my data is valuable enough to build entire business models, shouldn’t I be compensated for it?
Turns out, that idea isn’t so far-fetched. Thinkers like Jaron Lanier have argued for “data royalties,” and some startups are exploring data unions that let users get paid for their digital footprints. Because right now, brands get the gold mine, and we get the plastic wrapper.
So, How Did We Get Here?
It’s the perfect mix of cultural evolution, hyper-personalised marketing, the co-opting of feminist language, and our never-ending pursuit of meaning. And in that mix, our milestones, our identities—even our pain—have become marketing opportunities.
This isn’t about rejecting every empowering ad or shaming women for enjoying nice things. It’s about questioning why empowerment is always something to be bought—and who really profits from it.
Like I said, this isn’t a neat conclusion. Just a thought. Maybe empowerment and marketing can co-exist. But the line between celebrating women and selling to them is thin—and we need to keep asking who drew it, and why.
