You know you’re lower-middle-class when these 7 fashion brands are considered “luxury” to you

I’ll never forget the first time someone casually mentioned they “just grabbed a few things at Madewell” like it was no big deal. I nearly choked on my coffee. A single pair of jeans there cost what I typically spent on my entire seasonal wardrobe.

That moment made me realize something interesting about class and fashion. What seems like an everyday purchase to one person feels like a special occasion splurge to another. And honestly? There’s nothing wrong with that.

Growing up solidly lower-middle-class, I learned to stretch every dollar while still wanting to look put-together. Certain brands occupied this aspirational space in my mind, brands that weren’t quite designer but felt impossibly out of reach for regular purchases.

If you recognize these seven brands as “luxury” items that require saving up or special justification, you’re probably navigating the same economic reality I did. And you know what? You’re in good company.

1) Madewell

Let’s start with the brand that inspired this whole reflection.

For many people, Madewell is just a mid-range retailer. They pop in for a quick pair of jeans or a leather bag without thinking twice. But if you’re lower-middle-class, Madewell represents something different entirely.

Their jeans typically run $128 to $138. That’s more than some people spend on groceries for the week. So when you do buy something from Madewell, it’s an event. You’ve saved up, you’ve waited for a sale, and you’re planning to wear that piece into the ground.

I remember buying my first Madewell leather tote after saving for three months. I treated that bag like it was Hermès. And you know what? Years later, it still looks great because I took care of it like the investment it was for me.

There’s no shame in this. In fact, treating your purchases as investments rather than disposable fashion probably means you have a healthier relationship with consumption than people who shop there thoughtlessly.

2) Everlane

Everlane markets itself as “radical transparency” with “ethical prices.” But here’s the thing about their prices: a basic t-shirt costs $30 to $45.

When I first discovered Everlane, I was drawn to their minimalist aesthetic and ethical manufacturing promises. But I quickly realized that “accessible luxury” is still luxury when you’re working within a tight budget.

If you’re someone who agonizes over whether to spend $38 on a single t-shirt, even one that’s supposedly made to last forever, you’re probably lower-middle-class. Because for upper-middle-class shoppers, that price point barely registers as a decision.

The irony is that Everlane positions itself as the affordable alternative to luxury brands. And it is, relatively speaking. But “relatively” is doing a lot of work in that sentence when your actual budget is Target and Old Navy with the occasional Everlane splurge.

3) Lululemon

Ah, Lululemon. The brand that made $98 yoga pants a status symbol.

If you see women casually wearing head-to-toe Lululemon for school pickup or grocery shopping and think “that’s a $400 outfit for running errands,” congratulations, you understand lower-middle-class economics.

For many people, Lululemon is just activewear. For others, it’s a carefully considered purchase that might happen once a year, if that. You wait for the “We Made Too Much” sale section and feel genuine excitement when you find something in your size marked down to $59.

I used to justify Lululemon purchases by calculating cost-per-wear over years. “If I wear these leggings twice a week for three years, that’s only 50 cents per wear!” This is not how wealthy people think about buying workout clothes.

4) J.Crew

There was a time when J.Crew represented preppy, aspirational American style. Even though they’ve had their ups and downs as a company, they still occupy this interesting space in the fashion hierarchy.

Their prices hover in that zone where they’re not outrageous by objective standards, but they’re definitely not casual purchases for lower-middle-class budgets. A sweater runs $80 to $120. Pants are $90 to $130.

If you shop at J.Crew exclusively during their 40% off sales and feel like you’ve won the lottery when you snag something from their clearance section for under $30, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

The thing about J.Crew is that it represents a certain lifestyle, one where you have money for “nice casual” clothes that aren’t for special occasions. When those kinds of clothes require strategic planning to afford, you’re solidly in lower-middle-class territory.

5) Anthropologie

Walking into Anthropologie feels like entering a beautifully curated world of bohemian elegance. Everything is styled perfectly. The music is soothing. The scent is intoxicating.

Then you look at the price tags and remember why you’re just browsing.

A simple sundress costs $140. A decorative mug is $18. Their home goods section is gorgeous, but who spends $200 on throw pillows?

Upper-middle-class people, that’s who. For them, Anthropologie is charming and accessible. For lower-middle-class shoppers, it’s a place to visit for inspiration before heading to HomeGoods to find something similar for a fraction of the price.

If you’ve ever photographed something at Anthropologie to remember what you’re looking for elsewhere, or if you only shop their sale section online, you understand the economic dance I’m describing.

6) Patagonia

Patagonia has built its brand on environmental responsibility and durability. Their products are expensive, but they’re made to last. This is the justification many of us tell ourselves.

A fleece jacket costs $150 to $200. A rain shell can run $300 or more. These aren’t impulse purchases when you’re lower-middle-class. They’re carefully researched investments, often saved up for over months.

I remember debating a Patagonia purchase for weeks, reading reviews, measuring the environmental impact of buying something cheaper that might wear out faster versus spending more upfront. This level of deliberation over a jacket purchase is a pretty clear class indicator.

Meanwhile, I’ve watched wealthier friends casually order multiple Patagonia items to try at home, keeping what fits and returning the rest without a second thought about the price tags. Different worlds entirely.

7) & Other Stories

This H&M-owned brand positions itself as affordable European chic. And compared to actual designer fashion, it absolutely is. But compared to H&M itself, the prices tell a different story.

A dress at & Other Stories runs $99 to $150, while H&M proper offers dresses for $20 to $40. If you see & Other Stories as a significant step up in luxury that requires budgeting and consideration, you’re probably lower-middle-class.

The aesthetic is beautiful, minimal, and Instagram-worthy. But that aesthetic comes at a price point that makes it aspirational rather than accessible for many shoppers.

I’ve learned to appreciate & Other Stories for what it is: a brand that sits in the gap between fast fashion and true luxury. But recognizing that gap and feeling it in your wallet are two different experiences.

Final thoughts

Here’s what I want you to know: there’s absolutely nothing wrong with considering these brands luxury purchases.

In fact, I’d argue that having to think carefully about where you spend your money often leads to more intentional, sustainable consumption. When every purchase requires consideration, you buy less and choose better. You take care of what you have. You appreciate it more.

The upper-middle-class ability to shop these brands without thinking twice isn’t necessarily something to aspire to. Sometimes, mindless consumption just means you’ve become disconnected from the value of things.

I’ve found that being lower-middle-class taught me skills that serve me well regardless of my income. I know how to spot quality. I understand cost-per-wear. I can make a capsule wardrobe work. I shop sales strategically. These aren’t limitations, they’re capabilities.

So yes, if these seven brands feel like luxury to you, you’re probably navigating lower-middle-class economics. But you’re also probably pretty skilled at making the most of what you have. And honestly, that’s worth something too.