Whether it’s water bottles, pet care, alternative milk or laundry, some of the least glamorous corners of consumer goods are acquiring the kind of cultural cachet once reserved for fashion.

“When was it normal for a laundry brand to partner with Nobu? Never,” says Seyi Oduwole, foresight analyst at The Future Laboratory, referring to stylist-turned-entrepreneur Melissa Holdbrook-Akposoe’s laundry brand, Le Luxe. “But now, with Melissa’s brand identity tied to luxury selfcare, wellbeing and the elevation of the everyday, that’s normal.”

As a result, categories once associated almost entirely with utility and necessity are adopting the mechanics of fashion. For example, Stanley 1913 turned its water bottles into collectible accessories through collaborations with cultural figures like Post Malone, alongside a steady stream of limited-edition colorways and seasonal drops.

Holdbrook-Akposoe’s Le Lux sells sleekly packaged tumble dryer sheets and laundry beads that look more akin to the beauty world than household goods. Love Island host Maya Jama co-owns pea-based milk brand Sproud, which prides itself on being the “alt alt m*ilk” dressed in a monochrome carton.

Even cleaning products are getting the luxe treatment: Diptyque’s La Droguerie collection includes a £35 multi-surface cleaner, a £35 washing up liquid, and a £28 leather and wood care lotion, all packaged in its signature refillable glass bottles and scent.

“Consumers still want quality and performance, but they also want products that reflect who they are. Utility and self-expression are no longer separate ideas. People expect both,” says Kate Ridley, chief brand officer at Stanley 1913. “A water bottle, a coffee cup, or a tote can be as intentional a choice as a pair of shoes or a favorite handbag.”

As fashion becomes crowded, and as consumers look beyond clothes for more accessible ways to express taste, the opportunity is moving into less expected corners of the consumer market. The next status symbol might not be hanging in your wardrobe, but sitting in your fridge, your cupboard, or your gym bag.

How functional products became the new fashion brands

Fashion has long offered one of the clearest ways to buy into a cultural identity. But after years of explosions in independent labels and streetwear brands, it is becoming a harder game to crack

“Clothing will always be a powerful cultural signal, but the space has become increasingly saturated. So many brands look alike, make similar claims and repeat the same collaboration playbook, which means some of the edge and novelty has been lost for consumers,” says Reece Kellman, founder of These Sweets, a better-for-you confectionery brand.

“Fashion can also be expensive and less accessible; not everyone can buy into a brand through a £500 jacket or a limited-edition drop.”

That creates an opening for categories that are already embedded in everyday life. “People grow out of clothes, get bored of constantly keeping up with trends, and eventually run out of occasions to wear another purchase,” says Kellman.

“Functional consumer products offer a more attainable, everyday way into a brand.” That frequency matters at a moment when the cost of living is making discretionary purchases harder to justify. Consumers may be cutting back on the occasional fashion purchase, but they still need to eat, drink, wash their clothes and look after themselves.

“It’s a response to the cost of living crisis,” continues Oduwole, foresight analyst at The Future Laboratory. “People want to indulge, but they need functionality from their products.

By putting a face to a household or essential product [either as ambassadors or founders], it elevates the everyday into something special.” Oduwole describes this as an extension of “little treat” culture, explored in The Future Laboratory’s Bougie Basics report. But the appeal goes beyond the ability to make an everyday purchase feel more luxurious.

The more frequently a consumer encounters a product, the more opportunities it has to become part of their identity.

For luxury pet care brand Lil Luv Dog, it all comes down to an alignment of standards. “When we looked at the landscape, it was really clear that the standards we have for ourselves weren’t being mirrored in the pet industry — not when it came to ingredient formulation, packaging, or aesthetics,” says co-founder Cara Santana Leto.

Lil Luv Dog was the first pet brand to be EWG Verified and recently hosted a pop-up at Selfridges in London, where pup cups and steak tartare were served to dogs on silver trays. “Stephanie [Suganami, her co-founder] always says, ‘My standards for myself don’t change when I go shopping for my dog.’ We wanted to create a lifestyle brand that was commensurate with what we had seen in all of these other verticals: health, wellness, beauty, and fashion.”

This appetite for elevating the everyday has been amplified by social media. “Social platforms have made domestic life much more visible,” Mandy Saven, content director at Stylus, says on the influx.

“We now have viewership into other people’s kitchens, desks, bathrooms and pantries, turning them into performative spaces.” As people share their morning coffee, laundry routines, and kitchen shelves with the same visual care once reserved for an outfit, the products within them become part of the picture.

“Mundane items — think cleaning tools, condiments, cookware and even stationery — now carry design, humor, narrative and cultural codes. When everything is visually shareable, everything becomes a potential identity marker.” Grand View Research estimates the UK cookware market was worth $1.4 billion in 2023, with a projected 7.9% compound annual growth rate from 2024 to 2030. Meanwhile, Nielsen data found that sales in household cleaning products are up 10.3% year-on-year.

The new product playbook

There are countless categories that are yet to be given a compelling cultural identity, but making something mundane feel desirable is easier said than done.

Celebrity founders and entrepreneurs can accelerate the process. “Entrepreneurial celebs are uniquely positioned to offer consumers a shortcut to ‘cool’. By association and sponsorship, they inject narrative, humor, aspiration and cultural capital into categories that previously lacked emotional resonance,” says Stylus’s Saven. She describes these as “white space” categories — areas where brands can build cultural territory precisely because it is yet to be claimed.

Take celebrity chef Thomas Straker, whose viral butter videos led to the launch of All Things Butter, turning a supermarket staple into a distinctive lifestyle brand with colorful graphic packaging and a strong social media presence. Or Nespresso, which signed It-girl Dua Lipa as global brand ambassador in April to get more of its coffee machines into the homes of trendier, younger consumers.

In both cases, they bring an existing audience and cultural credibility to a category that previously had little of it.

Without an existing audience to transfer, brands have to build their own cultural relevance by finding the communities their product genuinely belongs in and showing up in the places and conversations that matter to them. For instance, Kellman’s These Sweets has positioned itself at the intersection of sport, creativity and wellbeing, rather than treating sweets as a standalone product category.

“For us, culture is built through real participation, not just sponsorship,” says Kellman. “The sweets people choose should feel like an extension of who they are; through the branding, the flavor, the product itself, and the lifestyle it fits into.” The brand has subsequently shown up at events including The Basement Cup, artist Slawn’s New York exhibition and Soho House Festival, placing the product in environments that already align with its audience.

“The product has to earn its place; it cannot just borrow cultural relevance.”

“It was really about building community and awareness around what the lifestyle of a Lil Luv Dog owner is,” says Leto. “It’s someone who cares about the planet, cares about their dog, and wants to make sure they’re giving their dog the best that life has to offer.” She notes that the brand gives 1% of all profits to rescue organizations across the US, has hosted dog walks led by renowned celebrity psychic Zeta Webber, and partnered with 4am Skin on an “us and theirs” wipe as well as with Big Teddy on custom dog robes.

Part of these moves come down to considering where their consumer is shopping for themselves. “They’re not going to Petco or any of these other big-box retailers. They’re not shopping differently to how they shop for themselves,” she continues. Beyond their recent Selfridges pop-up, permanent distributors in the US include cult beauty retailer Violet Grey and Goop.

Stanley 1913 has taken a different route, turning the humble water bottle into a kind of cultural canvas. Collaborations with Post Malone, Olivia Rodrigo, and Jennie have brought it into music culture, while partnerships with athletes including Lionel Messi and Nelly Korda bridge the gap between stationary and sport. Fashion collaborations, including LoveShackFancy, add another layer of cultural association.

“Each cultural space brings something different. Fashion is about self-expression. Music builds community and emotional connection. Sport is rooted in passion, performance, and identity,” says Stanley 1913’s Ridley. The result is a product that can accumulate meaning without fundamentally changing what it does. “Add great design, thoughtful collaborations and strong storytelling, and the product becomes something people want to discover, choose and collect.”

That may be the distinction between a functional product that simply looks cool and one that becomes a cultural brand. “Consumers need a reason why to purchase,” says Oduwole. “Is that because it’s healthier, prettier, makes them feel relaxed or alive? Sell a mood and lifestyle, even if your product is a financial service, a dentist office, or something humdrum.”

The opportunity is not to make every bottle, surface spray or milk carton behave like a fashion label. It is to give people a reason to care about something they were already going to buy — and, ultimately, a reason to want to be associated with it.