Marketing Self-Worth: From ’80s Perfume Ads to the Instagram Empowerment Era
Written by Aliya Banks | Category: Mental Health, Marketing | 8 Minute Read
When Feeling Good Became a Cultural Goal
Somewhere between the disco ball and the dawn of self-help TV, “feeling good about yourself” stopped being a private hope and became a public expectation.
By the late 1970s, self-esteem had gone mainstream — not just as a psychological concept, but as a social currency.
The idea had been brewing for decades. Psychologists like Abraham Maslow and Carl Rogers had already placed self-worth near the top of human needs, but it was the cultural mood of the ’70s and ’80s that made it fashionable.
America was redefining its identity — women were entering the workforce, therapy was slowly losing its stigma, and personal growth became a national pastime.
Then came Louise Hay, whose 1984 book You Can Heal Your Life sold millions and offered a radical message for its time: your thoughts shape your reality. She taught readers to use affirmations — I am worthy, I am loved, I am enough — as tools for healing everything from heartbreak to disease.
📈Whether she meant to or not, Hay helped turn spirituality into self-help, and self-help into a market.
By the late 1980s, the self-esteem boom had fully arrived. California even created a Task Force to Promote Self-Esteem and Personal and Social Responsibility, convinced that raising citizens’ confidence could reduce crime and improve grades.
“Feeling good about yourself” was no longer a fringe idea — it was government policy.
And of course, once a belief becomes that popular, Madison Avenue pays attention.
The Age of Affirmation and the Mirror That Talked Back
🪞If you want to know what peak self-esteem culture looked like, picture Stuart Smalley — the pastel-sweatered self-help junkie played by Al Franken on Saturday Night Live in the early ’90s.
Sitting before a mirror, he repeated: “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”
It was satire — yet everyone recognized the truth behind it.
By then, America was drenched in positive thinking. Bookstores overflowed with titles promising transformation. Oprah featured self-help gurus who spoke the new gospel of “self-belief.”
Affirmations weren’t just a practice; they were a lifestyle accessory — proof that you were doing “the work.” Confidence was no longer just a feeling; it was a performance — something to be maintained, displayed, and, soon enough, sold.
From Self-Help to Self-Sell
By the time Stuart Smalley was affirming his worth on TV, the self-esteem movement had done something extraordinary: it had created a language everyone understood.
Marketers noticed.
Words once reserved for therapy — worthy, beautiful, confident, empowered — began appearing in commercials and print ads.
|“The message was clear: self-esteem wasn’t an inner state anymore. It was something you could earn, buy, or prove — one purchase at a time.”
What started as a psychological revolution quietly evolved into a branding strategy.
If the ’80s taught people to believe in themselves, the ’90s taught them to buy that belief.
This was the dawn of emotional branding — when confidence became not just a feeling to cultivate, but a lifestyle to purchase.
When Confidence Became a Product
It started innocently enough — a catchy jingle, a confident woman, a spray of perfume.
In 1978, Enjoli released an iconic commercial:
“I can bring home the bacon,
Fry it up in a pan,
And never let you forget you’re a man…”
She was polished, powerful, and perfectly coiffed — the modern superwoman, bottled and sold for $8.99.
The Enjoli woman wasn’t just selling perfume; she was selling the performance of self-esteem. This was the turning point: brands realized they could market not just products, but personalities. Confidence became something you could wear, spritz, or apply.
From there, emotional branding took over. Companies learned to attach feelings — empowerment, freedom, self-worth — to their taglines:
“Because you’re worth it.” — L’Oréal
“Real Beauty.” — Dove
Even car and tech brands borrowed the same tone, equating ownership with identity.
The message was clear: self-esteem wasn’t an inner state anymore. It was something you could earn, buy, or prove — one purchase at a time.
The Age of Self-Love and the Influencer Economy
By the 2010s, self-esteem had gone digital — faster, slicker, and more personal than ever.
Confidence now lived on Instagram feeds and YouTube thumbnails. What started as “you’re worth it” became “you deserve this.” Influencers became the new therapists, marketers, and aspirational friends rolled into one.
Their message? Love yourself — but do it through consumption.
✅Buy the face serum that heals your inner child.
✅ Drink the green powder that aligns your energy.
✅ Sign up for the course that unlocks your higher self.
The language of healing had been co-opted by the language of sales.
Better or Worse? The New Cycle of Selling Self-Worth
We’ve evolved — or have we just rebranded the illusion?
The conversations around therapy, inclusivity, and mental health are real progress.
But the market has learned to adapt, whispering instead of shouting.
Now, instead of selling perfection, it sells relatability. Instead of saying “you’re not enough,” brands now say you are enough — right before promoting a limited-edition confidence collection.
Real self-esteem was never meant to be a brand. It’s not a product or performance — it’s built in the quiet, private moments no one sees. Until we separate self-worth from self-promotion, we’ll keep mistaking the glow for the light.
The Real Glow
I still remember that Enjoli commercial — the woman who could “bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan.”
Even as a kid, I thought she had it all together. Now I see it differently. She wasn’t selling perfume — she was selling permission.
Permission to be powerful, but never tired. To have it all — and smile while doing it.
Today, her spirit lives on through Instagram — sipping matcha, running a business and posting boundaries at noon.
But beneath it all, we’re still asking:
Do I actually feel good, or do I just look like I do?
That’s where the real glow begins — when we stop performing empowerment and start defining it for ourselves.
Because self-esteem was never meant to be a product. It was meant to be a practice.
