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Troll reversal: Brands are rage-baiting us, and it’s working
Every time you get riled up about a bra with nipples, a trash bag with a designer tag, a coffee-enema kit, brands bask in the rage. You’re not trolling them, they are trolling you
Kim Kardashian’s shapewear brand, Skims, is launching in India soon. Yes, the same brand that sent the internet into meltdown in October, when it launched $32 thongs with fake pubic hair in 12 shades, including platinum blonde and bright ginger.
Naturally, everyone lost it. “Is there no part of the female body the Kardashians won’t exploit and commodify?” asked one side. “So… is the bush back?” wondered the other. The Kardashian women are hardly flag-bearers for body positivity (they’ve gone under the knife, the needle and the laser, and readily share tips with their fans). So, we know that those scanty-but-fuzzy undies weren’t about going natural. For weeks, we screenshot those promo photos, added shocked-face emojis, crafted devastating hot-takes: “For $32, I expected the hair to be more luxuriant, lol!” and shared it on our feeds and group chats.
We thought we were trolling Kim.
It was really her trolling us.
If there’s one thing a Kardashian understands better than anyone, it’s the algorithm. Kim, particularly, knows exactly which of our buttons to press to break the internet. Those thongs sold out in 24 hours. But Skims’s profit didn’t end there. It makes its money from regular underwear and shapewear, and gained worldwide publicity on the back of our outraged forwards. We got nothing. Cheeks in the breeze.
So, before a single Skims piece touches Indian soil, it’s primed us already. We know it makes innerwear, is size inclusive, has a nudes palette that covers different ethnicities, and is engineered to wear under cropped-tops, one-shoulder tees, snatched-waist pants and other trends of the moment, unlike the granny-approved shapewear at department stores. Skims paid almost nothing to tell us this.
It’s the same trick that made Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop a permanent fixture in our feeds in 2020. When Paltrow announced the This Smells Like My Vagina candle, she knew it would trigger us all, and keep us talking about her brand for free. Goop also sold jade eggs, marketed as vaginal wellness products that seemed to have no proven benefit, and a host of infection risks. But it largely makes its money from boring items – active wear, moisturisers, beige bedsheets – which benefit from the hype.
Now, think of Louis Vuitton and the $160 lipstick they launched in 2025. Shocking, yes. Delulu, not quite. Because they sold out their limited stock (they knew they would), but got us all to note that LV makes lipstick. This form of trolling is why we’ve learnt to say “Balenciaga” in the first place. The 107-year-old fashion brand sells a $2,000 trash bag, $250 shoelace earrings and $1850 pre-dirtied sneakers. Every time one of these objects drops, the internet asks the same three questions: Who made this? Who is buying this? Why does this exist? And Balenciaga sits back, knowing their marketing is working.
For us who track the outrage, this is white-noise disguised as discourse. We argue about the product, the brand, capitalism, feminism, taste, class, whether society is doomed. News sites, influencers and commentators pick it up. Nothing really shifts the needle on the subjects that we so passionately referenced. But brands stay aloof and get the recognition they wanted.
Kim’s shapewear empire goes far beyond viral nipple bras and bushy knickers, and now sits at a valuation of around $5 billion. Louis Vuitton commanded the highest website traffic of any luxury brand in 2025, attracting nearly 15 million monthly visitors. Goop was valued at around $250 million at the height of its trolling era in 2022, while Balenciaga secured the No 1 spot on The Lyst Index’s ranking of the world’s hottest fashion brands around the same time. People come to check out the rage bait items, many stay and spring for the safer items. The beige bedsheets win.
So, when Skims lands, expect some kind of viral moment – a sari-blouse with fake cleavage marks maybe? Or a bodysuit with a printed-on belly button so you can fake a bare midriff? Wait. Why are we giving them even more ideas for publicity?
From HT Brunch, August 22, 2026
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