SINGAPORE: In the neon-lit streets of Singapore, the constant clink of luxury watches and the flash of “hype” outfits have become the soundtrack to daily life.
Status isn’t just flaunted; it’s a currency that fuels an entire economy.
From the moment Singaporeans wake up to the time they hit the clubs, they are always looking for ways to say, “Look at me; I’m special.”
Whether it’s a designer bag, a limited-edition sneaker, or a new sports car, the message is the same — Success is about what you have and how loudly you can show it.
But behind these carefully curated images of success, a deeper question emerges…
Are we flexing because we want to or feel we have to?
An article from Ricemedia articulated how psychologist Alfred Adler’s theory of the inferiority complex offers some insight.
Adler suggested that feelings of inadequacy could drive people to overcompensate, leading to behaviours that mask their true vulnerabilities.
Sigmund Freud took it further, arguing that people often hide their discomforts through external actions.
In the context of Singapore, it seems they’re not just flexing out of choice; they’re doing it to cover up something deeper—the anxiety of not measuring up in a society that constantly demands more.
In Singapore’s “success at all costs” culture, it’s not enough to be good at what you do. You need to show that you’re good or risk losing face.
The pressure to keep up with the Joneses is palpable, and it’s not just a personal battle; it’s a collective one.
To be a Singaporean is, in some ways, to be in a race where no one wants to fall behind.
The desire to feel like we’re enough pushes us to stretch our wallets, sometimes beyond reason, just to keep up with the latest trends and the loudest flexes we see around us.
We want to feel like we measure up. We want to feel seen. So, we buy the expensive phone, the flashy watch, the limited-edition collectable—and suddenly, we’re part of the show.
Is this need to “flex” rooted in ambition, or is it just driven by insecurity?
Let’s face it—sometimes it feels like the obsession with outward success is less about personal achievement and more about meeting societal expectations.
You might be able to afford that flashy item, but what happens when it stops impressing others? Are we just chasing a validation that’s as shallow as the sparkle of our watches?
Take Warren, 25, who’s fed up with people carrying around Prime, the energy drink that’s more about hype than health.
He can’t stand people willing to waste money on a product fronted by a controversial figure just to feel like part of the cool crowd.
“Save your money,” he advises, “invest in something that actually matters, like a good meal or real investments. Charity, volunteering—those are real flexes,” he advised.
Ken, 26, adds to this growing cynicism with a warning about the fake Rolexes that have become a fixture at Chinese New Year.
It’s not just about wearing luxury; it’s about looking like you have it all, even when the reality is far less glamorous.
He recalls seeing relatives roll up in shiny new cars, only to have them towed away later because they couldn’t make the payments.
It’s not just young people who are taking issue with this culture. Kara, 43, calls out the absurdity of bottle service at clubs—those over-the-top displays with champagne sparklers and cheesy music.
It’s a spectacle supposed to signal wealth, but to her, it just screams bad taste.
And it’s not just about flaunting what you own. Lorna, 45, points out the discomfort she feels when parents use their children’s enrichment classes as status symbols.
“Every kid is different,” she says, and parents should be more mindful of how their “success stories” might alienate other families who can’t afford the same luxuries.
Some flexes aren’t just annoying—they’re actively disruptive.
Sarah, 27, and Shaun, 34, are fed up with the loud exhausts of sports cars, often driven recklessly through residential areas, disturbing the peace just to make a point.
“There’s literally no room in Singapore to floor the accelerator,” Sarah quips. “And that car vending machine in Selegie? It represents everything that’s wrong with this place,” she added.
Even hobbyists aren’t immune to the flexing frenzy.
Aaron, 39, reflects on how collectors often get fixated on the most expensive gear, whether it’s watches, cameras, or bicycles. It’s as if having the priciest equipment is more important than the experience of the hobby.
“I asked a fellow photographer once why he preferred a more expensive camera model, and he had no answer,” Aaron says. “It’s not about what you love; it’s about what you can flaunt,” he concluded.
Larry, 33, isn’t impressed by the inherited wealth some flaunt so openly:
“Your daddy bought you that car, bro. Don’t act like you earned it.”
It’s a sentiment shared by many who see the “new rich” flaunting things handed to them, not earned.
Then there are the “weekend warriors” who pay top dollar for sports events like Hyrox, only to post self-congratulatory photos on social media with cringe-worthy motivational captions.
Pete, 35, has a problem with this, arguing that it’s okay to celebrate personal wins, but there’s no need to turn every achievement into a public performance.
But perhaps the most insidious form of flexing is the humblebrag.
Ou Yang, 34, finds it hilarious when people subtly show off by posting business-class flight photos accompanied by captions about missing local food or seeking movie recommendations.
“It’s like they’re trying to make you jealous, but in a low-key way,” he says.
What’s interesting, though, is how some people react to others’ flexing.
Kylie, 27, argues that people who get upset about flexing are often just revealing their insecurities.
“Those who judge others for flexing are just flexing their supposed emotional intelligence. It’s all a game of one-upmanship.”
Ervin, 34, takes it a step further. He’s not just annoyed by name-droppers; he believes they represent a bigger issue—crony capitalism.
“If you’re getting by because of who you know, not what you know, then your success is a hollow one,” he opined.
Finally, Junming, 30, warns against the flexing culture on LinkedIn. “When people post daily about their luxury watches or investment portfolios, it’s a huge red flag.
It’s one thing to work hard for success, but it’s another to constantly wave it in everyone’s face. It’s not confidence; it’s insecurity.”
Here’s the bottom line: Flexing has become a reflex, a way to signal success in a world increasingly obsessed with appearances.
But the question remains—are we flexing because we want to or because we feel we have to?
It’s easy to get caught up in the hustle and the hype, but perhaps it’s time to ask: What are we trying to prove?
Featured image by Depositphotos (for illustration purposes only)