For most of us, the former isn’t an inherited option, and therein lies the rub. Nothing stokes desire like a puppy needing attention quite like the unattainable. It makes wealth we didn’t do anything to earn all the more mouth-watering. Working hard and being labelled “new money rich”? Lame. In an age of get-loaded-quick schemes and finance bros preaching hustle culture, money isn’t just a necessity – it’s the currency of ambition, status, and social mobility. 

What about old wealth glitters so? When we conjure images of Tan Sris and royalty, it’s not merely Mercedes-Benzes that parade through the secluded estates – rather, it’s the sleek lines of Bentleys and Porsches, their engines humming with pedigree. These cars, often adorned with exclusive one-digit number plates, glide past the golden gates of mansions steeped in legacy and unattainable inheritance. Alongside these icons of opulence, you’ll find Rolex watches that tick steadily like a centuries-old fortune, and traditional attire such as batik and sampin, each piece crafted with such exquisite detail and premium materials that their prices soar beyond 15K. This is the classic tableau of wealth, traditionally out of reach for the masses. Yet, intriguingly, the #OldMoneyAesthetic has permeated the local scene. 

Today, one might spot gentlemen at Dataran Merdeka donning cable-knit sweaters, seemingly auditioning for a role in a Malaysian adaptation of ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley’. What prompts this display? Are we witnessing an inquisitive exploration of fashion, or is this merely a superficial mimicry amplified by social media platforms like TikTok? Why do we, as a society, romanticize and emulate the inaccessible lifestyles of the historically affluent, even when it borders on the absurd?

But before we unravel the peculiarities in our own neighborhood, let’s look beyond the horizon to decode this obsession of the rich on an international level. The media, of course, is our most devoted instructor – whether through the siren call of luxury ads or the subtle propaganda of aspirational TV. But here’s a thought experiment: dive into your own favorite works of art. Is Succession the go-to of your watchlist? Or, if you’re anything like me, did Lana Del Rey’s National Anthem music video feel like a spiritual awakening when you first watched it?

Personally, teenage me was utterly floored. Gagged, even. And I mean the good kind of gagged – the kind that makes your queer heart sing, not the kind that forces you to clutch on a barf bag.

In the song, Lana purrs:

“I’m your national anthem

God, you’re so handsome

Take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron

He loves to romance ’em, reckless abandon

Holding me for ransom, upper echelon”

Now, strip away the visuals of A$AP Rocky playing the sexy, edgy, fantasy version of Mr. President. What kind of man do you think she’s singing about? Sonically, she conjures a world of ivy leagues, limousines, summers in the Hamptons, and other Nate Archibald-esque activities. He’s not just dapper; he’s dripping with generational wealth like honey dripping off a golden spoon. It’s a portrait of affluent escapism that perfectly mirrors how we perceive old money: understated, polished, and endlessly aspirational.

This allure isn’t just about wealth; it’s about the performance of wealth. The old money aesthetic has spawned trends like “quiet luxury” and “stealth wealth,” and yes, you may roll your eyes. Supposedly, true richness doesn’t shout. “Money talks, wealth whispers,” or so they say – unless, of course, you’re Chloe Sevigny, in which case your wealth shrieks (and we love her for it). This aesthetic favours muted tones, clean silhouettes, and brands like The Row, Khaite, or Brunello Cucinelli. No logos, no peacocking – just the sartorial equivalent of a cocky smirk.

But I’m burdened to say: isn’t this just code for “boring rich”? Neutral colors, elegant basics, and the mandatory accessory of an eventual receding hairline – what happened to fun? Still, I get why it appeals, especially in a world terrorized by micro-trends. It’s timeless. It’s safe. It’s… well, it’s old.

Though, me being me, I’ll have to ask you to zoom out a little more, to perhaps see something more eerie happening. And that’s where things get interesting. Fashion has always mirrored politics and the cultural zeitgeist. Look around and you’ll see fascist politics, a Trumpian dystopia glorifying the past, movements like trad-wifeism to romanticize restrictive gender roles, and a yearning for “simpler” (read: more oppressive) times. This is not merely about fashion mimicking the historical affluence of the few; it is a symptom of a broader societal shift. The chic allure of the old money look, then, is not just a benign revival of style but a potentially malicious manifestation of a desire to return to more hierarchically structured, less equitable times. 

By adorning ourselves in the trappings of a bygone era, we might be unconsciously signaling a deeper yearning for an order where privilege and power were more clearly defined and less questioned. The question then arises: are we merely playing dress-up with the aesthetics of the past, or are we unwittingly advocating for a return to its values? This aesthetic is a sartorial time machine, dressed up in nostalgia and draped in privilege.

And if it’s trickled to the sweltering hot shores of our country, it can only mean what you’re thinking. In her article The Political Assault on Intellectualism in Malaysia, Bukit Bendera MP Syarleena Abdul Rashid observes, “In recent years, a disturbing trend of anti-intellectualism has taken root in Malaysia, driven by certain political opportunists.” She highlights how critical discourse is often met with hostility, citing Andrew Sia’s critique of UiTM and the subsequent uproar from politicians more interested in vilification than dialogue. 

Syarleena argues that “a well-educated populace is better positioned to drive economic growth, foster social cohesion, and engage in the democratic process. When political leaders undermine education and intellectualism, they sabotage the nation’s future, preventing us from reaching our full potential.”

Here’s the kicker: while anti-intellectualism tightens its grip on Malaysia, we’re simultaneously seeing a surge in people cosplaying as intellectual elites. Those cable-knit sweaters aren’t just channeling wealth – they’re appropriating the aesthetic of erudition, a polished facade of inherited wisdom and cultural sophistication. Yet, like so much in our social media age, it’s all surface, no depth.

Jean Baudrillard’s theory of simulacra and simulation comes to play here. The old money aesthetic within the Malaysian masses isn’t rooted in genuine wealth or refinement; it’s a curated fantasy – a simulation. It’s about signaling sophistication without the burden of actually putting in the elbow grease and synapse activating to cultivate it. In a society where appearances often outweigh substance, it’s easier to look like an intellectual elite than to be one. Especially if it grants you social capital, allowing you to scam people into a closed members-only Old Money Community for a small fee of RM249 (but let’s not get into that).

And that’s the paradox. As Syarleena warns, anti-intellectualism erodes critical thinking and meaningful discourse. At the same time, the rise of the old money aesthetic glorifies the very intellectual markers anti-intellectualism seeks to suppress. Together, they paint a picture of a nation caught between aspiration and apathy – reaching for sophistication while sidestepping the rigor it demands.

Is it a bold claim to say anti-intellectualism intersects with the rise of the #OldMoneyAesthetic? While one represents the erosion of critical thinking skills, the other represents a superficial attempt to reclaim the aura of brilliance. Perhaps it’s both: a distraction from the realities we’d rather not face, cloaked in gingham and cashmere. As Gia Gunn once famously said, “I guess there’s room for everybody.”