From Spears to Logos: The Primitive Hunt Behind Modern Fashion (and Why It’s All the Same Orange Juice)

Before there were boutiques, influencers, and luxury brands, there was only one thing: the hunt.

Hunting wasn’t just about survival—it was about status. The most skilled hunter came home with the fiercest prize. Lion heads were mounted on walls, bear skins draped over floors, antlers displayed above the fire. These weren’t trophies for decoration—they were statements. Proof of power and dominance.

Fast forward a few centuries, and the wilderness has changed. But the instinct? Still alive and well.

Only now, the lion’s head is a logo.

The spear is a receipt.

And the jungle? Your wardrobe, your fridge, and your Instagram feed.

Fashion: The Original Trophy Cabinet

Modern life doesn’t leave much room for tribal conquest. But we still find ways to display our status—and one of the clearest is fashion.

That €300 polo shirt? It’s not necessarily warmer, better stitched, or longer-lasting than the €30 one. But it’s got the right animal on it.

• Ralph Lauren’s polo horse: Upper-class leisure and timeless Americana.

• Lacoste’s crocodile: Polished, sporty, and unmistakably continental.

• Harmont & Blaine’s dachshund: Southern Italian weekend chic.

• Moncler’s alpine crest: €1,500 worth of cold-weather clout.

• Hermès’ horse and carriage: Quiet luxury, generational wealth.

• Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Dior: Fashion nobility stitched in initials.

• Stone Island’s compass patch: A badge with cult status.

• Supreme’s red box logo: Streetwear’s kingmaker, powered by scarcity.

These aren’t just logos. They’re modern-day trophies.

You’re not just wearing a shirt—you’re signalling your place in the social hierarchy.

The Illusion of Difference: Who Really Owns What?

Here’s where things get more interesting. Many of these “competing” brands are actually owned by the same corporate groups.

• LVMH owns Louis Vuitton, Dior, Fendi, Givenchy, Loewe, Celine and more.

• Kering manages Gucci, Saint Laurent, Balenciaga, Bottega Veneta, and Alexander McQueen.

• Richemont controls Cartier, Chloé, Dunhill, and others.

They don’t sell fashion—they sell brand stories, tiers of access, and structured aspiration.

Behind the scenes, it’s often the same factories, same cotton suppliers, even shared production lines. What sets one apart from the other is the narrative.

Think that sounds wild? Consider this…

Maserati Ghibli vs Fiat Punto

The Maserati Ghibli retails upwards of €70,000. A Fiat Punto? Under €15,000.

And yet, parts of the Ghibli interior—buttons, switches, electronics—are identical to those used in the Fiat. Same parts, same supplier, just wrapped in a different badge and story.

Fashion operates in the same way. The €300 shirt and the €30 one might share the same cotton and be cut on the same floor—but one gets a polo horse, the other doesn’t.

The Supermarket Safari: Orange Juice and Ice Cream Edition

The illusion isn’t limited to clothing. It’s just as obvious in your weekly shop.

Orange Juice: Pfanner vs No-Name

You pick up a €3.50 carton of Pfanner, thinking it must be better than the €1.99 brand next to it.

Look closer. Same ingredient: 100% orange juice.

Look at the small print: often, same manufacturer.

You’re not buying better juice. You’re buying perceived quality, branding, and maybe a splash of Italian lifestyle marketing.

Ice Cream: Magnum vs Lidl Deluxe

You buy a pack of Magnum sticks for €4.99. Right next to it, Lidl’s own “Deluxe” version sells for €2.49.

Same size. Similar ingredients. Practically identical taste.

And quite possibly, the same factory.

This isn’t coincidence—it’s economies of scale. When a factory can churn out ice cream for multiple labels, why not?

You’re not paying for better ice cream.

You’re paying for a story of indulgence and aspiration.

The Jungle Has Changed. But the Game Hasn’t.

What we’re really buying—whether in a shirt, a drink, or a frozen treat—is a feeling.

A sense of belonging, of having made it. Of being seen.

• You’re not just wearing Moncler—you’re wearing the Alps.

• You’re not just sipping orange juice—you’re buying Mediterranean wellness.

• You’re not just licking ice cream—you’re indulging in a “premium moment”.

This is about myth-making, not materials.

Conclusion: Still Hunters, Just Better Dressed

We may no longer mount animal heads on walls, but we still need trophies.

Our ancestors brought home their kill to feed their village and prove their worth. We bring home our latest purchase for similar reasons—only the prey is designer, limited-edition, or just slightly better packaged than its cheaper sibling.

So next time you’re about to buy that €300 shirt or €5 bottle of juice, pause and ask:

Am I paying for the product—or the privilege of saying I bought it?

The hunt never ended.

It just got rebranded.