The bling brigade: Politicians serve to slay

What attracts people to buying a watch that costs as much as a house?

Former Ekurhuleni city manager Imogen Mashazi, who flaunts luxury clothes and jewellery, came across as belligerent at the Madlanga commission this week. (Freddy Mavunda)

Since the 1980s, “slay” has become a term synonymous with the high-stakes world of black ballroom culture. Today slay has extended to politicians, actors, influencers, gangsters and civil servants.

This week, former Ekurhuleni city manager Imogen Mashazi became the latest lover of designer garments and accessories to hit the headlines.

A resurfaced video has left tongues wagging at her showing off:

  • Hermes Oran sandals that can retail for R14,336;
  • a Bvlgari 18-carat bracelet that goes for well over R60,000; and
  • an Audemars Piguet watch that would set you back R1.27m.

These big-ticket items shone a more critical light on her controversial appearance at the Madlanga commission this week, where she came across as bored and belligerent.

Mashazi's taste for luxury fashion (Nolo Moima)

But what attracts people to buying a watch that costs as much as an average South African house? A heightened sense of style? Vanity? Or a deep need to feel accepted?

Michael Zahariev, the Luxity store co-founder who often authenticates designer garments, says South Africans have “a very strong aspirational culture” that is influenced by reaching a certain level of success.

“Whether it is wearing luxury brands or driving a premium car, they want that achievement to be seen and celebrated,” he says. “For many, it’s a way of saying, ‘I’ve made it’ and expressing pride in what they have worked for.”

Not one to shy away from popping bottles at ANC events, the party’s secretary-general, Fikile Mbalula, is among those who have been spotted rocking Valentino bucket hats and Gucci shades, while embattled MP and former minister Malusi Gigaba is known for his signature suits from a bevy of local tailors.

While Gigaba shies away from the flashy logomania and pricey Ferragamo loafers preferred by serial politician Floyd Shivambu, his more muted approach mirrors the style of moguls like Steve Jobs, whose seemingly affordable turtlenecks were customs from Issey Miyake, and Elon Musk, who buys all his dowdy suits in Savile Row.

Fikile Mbalula wearing a Valentino hat and a Rolex. (X) (X)

Water minister Pemmy Majodina has also turned heads in her outlandish custom outfits that turned parliamentary appearances into scenes from My Fair Lady.

On a psychological level, obsessing over these markers of success is rarely about the item itself, says clinical psychologist Colinda Linde. Instead, it is usually driven by the emotional meaning attached to it. These high-priced garments can become symbols of worth, status, belonging or identity.

“Social comparison also plays a role: in a world where curated images dominate, people may feel pressured to keep up with perceived norms,” she says. “Add to that the dopamine reward cycle — anticipation, purchase and the brief ‘high’ of acquisition — and you have a loop that can become compulsive.”

Linde believes the obsession with labels is often a coping strategy for deeper emotional needs or vulnerabilities, not a desire for the clothing itself.

This opens the door to compulsive buying disorders, where people experience:

  • Persistent, intrusive thoughts about buying branded items;
  • Repeated failed attempts to cut back;
  • Shopping despite debt or negative consequences;
  • A strong emotional reliance on the purchase to feel “enough”, confident or socially valid; and
  • Significant distress or impairment in daily functioning.

On the other hand, enclothed cognition has often looked at how clothes can have a holistic effect on a wearer. In 2017 researchers at Northwestern University in the US found that students in lab coats made 50% fewer mistakes than those not wearing lab coats.

Former EFF deputy president Floyd Shivambu wearing Ferragamo shoes. (X) (X)

“In high-stakes environments like politics or business, this effect is amplified. Clothing becomes an unspoken language: authority, competence, credibility and belonging are often communicated before a single word is said,” says Linde.

Luxury or high-quality garments can act as psychological armour. When someone feels they “look the part”, their posture, assertiveness and decision-making may shift accordingly. Linde also says it functions socially — others respond to you differently, which reinforces the identity you’re projecting.

“The danger arises when the garment becomes a dependency rather than a tool. If a person feels powerless, invisible or fraudulent without a specific label, the clothing begins to control the psychology rather than support it.”

But not all that glitters is Gucci, something Zahariev knows too well as a luxury reseller. The high pressure to acquire these items has led many South Africans to pursue dupes and fakes. The popular local TV series Bad Influencer follows the world of counterfeit sales. Police have been running crackdowns throughout the year, and by June they had seized counterfeit goods worth R400m. Alongside his co-founder, Zahariev is often called in on these missions.

He warns that strong demand creates the perfect environment for counterfeiters to target consumers not only with obvious fakes but also with scams where people who believe they are buying genuine items receive counterfeits instead.

Lelethu Qotole, a social worker and counsellor at Liberty Home, a rehab centre that treats shopping addiction, says there are different ways to navigate a healthy love of designer clothing, depending on the consumer. He says there are many pressures in professional workspaces that are best avoided by not being “superficial or masking insecurities”, which could lead to a healthier relationship with clothing.


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