A considerable part of our perception is based on and strengthened by societal conditioning that dictates what is good and what is not. Our judgement of any cultural phenomenon is influenced by these deep-rooted, well-formed biases of high and low culture. This divide obviously has a strong association with the segregation of classes. Perhaps, that’s also the reason why the art of the ‘free man’, who has enough wealth, space and time to invest in a creative endeavour is considered to have achieved higher intellectual and artistic excellence, while the art of the ‘working man’ that has found its balance of aesthetic expression and function is considered mere utility or at most, decorative art. When the boundary between these classes is blurred, this distinction becomes difficult to make. We can easily differentiate between the characteristics of the two extremes where at one end you have all the pastels and on the other the high-contrast neons. But somewhere in the middle, on the edge of both these classes, is where the fun lies. When a meaningless kitsch expression shows the possibility of having meaning to it, the identity of it being ‘low’ begins to dilute. Kitsch is believed to be an unplanned juxtaposition of unrelated aesthetic entities, but with an appropriate context one can attach meaning, and subsequently some value to it. As the worth of art is effectively decided by the mode of its consumption, when put in an elevated setting (a setting that validates ‘art’) visually kitsch material becomes a worthy participant of the gathering. This not-so-small space is frequented by the partially-free-working-man. This group is looking for something that offers to boost their understanding of the individuality (of the free man) while appealing to their aspirational sense of aesthetics (of the working man). In a commercial setting, you frame this art with a function and it becomes a valuable, saleable product for this transitional class of consumers, I’d add, a significant part of this class, with new money and having the constant need to stand out and feel “cool”, similar to what has been described by Venkatesh Rao in his article about being Premium-mediocre.

When we focus on the context of India and Indian consumers, this reality is further layered. The Indian consumer is inherently blessed with a very joyful and colourful visual vocabulary. We have been brought up with and around this aesthetic of plurality of elements, colours and themes. This is probably why the western idea of kitsch didn’t really add up in the Indian landscape. Nevertheless, thanks to the bombardment of foreign ideologies and the influence of social media, the socially unaware and ‘yes, I’ve read about it on the internet’ Indian viewer compartmentalized a lot of this as kitschy, meaningless work and discarded it. It became something that’s not to be noticed, looked down upon and quite honestly, #memeworthy. But then, one fine day, when meaning was attached to this aesthetic, it was reclaimed as ‘being desi’. With clever exploitation of apparent national pride and effectively transposing one aesthetic onto another, suddenly, ‘Eew, so gaudy’ and ‘God! Too shiny!’ became ‘So vibrant!’ and ‘Look. At. That. Shine!’ Where all the restaurants and shops were once looking for an elegant ambience, they are now using appropriated versions of Dhaba culture and Thela aesthetics to do up their spaces. Where design once relied on negative space to create hierarchy, umpteen elements per square inch are the order of the day now. Where once less was more, more is not enough now.

I think multiple factors have caused this change in perception. The lifestyle of a generic, contemporary, urban Indian is quite interestingly driven by multiple stimuli from the agile socio-cultural global climate. The influence of impactful social media is getting stronger with every other click and like. Double taps are enforcing perceived sense of connections and the swipe right culture of ‘decide now, think later’ is adding a dash of thrill to everyday life. The constant bombardment of flashing visuals on our brains is perhaps numbing down our inherent tendency to look for and into the details. This social media driven attitude based on instant gratification is influencing the shopping choices and habits of millennials. And for Indian lifestyle brands, this provides a great opportunity to explore and take advantage of the changing consumer habits. Today, attaching the ‘desi’ tag to any product having vaguely Indian stylisations seems to justify its price because suddenly it is rooted in the Indian context. It is effectively positioned as something more quirky and youthful and hence becomes a commercial success satisfying the needs of this specific target group that enjoys watching ultra-colourful Holi videos shot in slow-mo.