You can’t swing a tote bag at a marketing conference these days without hitting someone saying, “We need to be culturally relevant.” It’s the new “synergy,” except now it comes with mood boards and a five-figure strategist who insists “Gen Z rejects perfection.” (They don’t. They just reject your brand.)
The funny thing is, most marketers treat culture like seasoning—sprinkle a bit of nostalgia, add a meme, garnish with an influencer who has a man-bun and suddenly, voilà, “cultural campaign.” Except culture isn’t garnish. Culture is the entire flaming kitchen, including that weird corner where someone’s been storing expired hummus since 2018.
Advertising loves to talk about culture, but it rarely listens to it. Culture moves fast. Agencies? They’re still waiting for the conference room TV to unfreeze from the last Zoom call. By the time a brand approves “Let’s use this trending sound,” that sound has retired, moved to Goa, and taken up pottery.
But here’s the twist: a few brands actually get culture right. And not because they have bigger budgets. It’s because they have bigger guts.
Nike — Culture Whisperer, Not Culture Tourist
Nike treats culture like a living organism—unpredictable, emotional, and sometimes inconvenient. The Colin Kaepernick “Believe in something” campaign wasn’t a gamble; it was a brand acting on decades of cultural participation. Nike has always chosen the side of the athlete who refuses to behave. Why? Because rebellion is culture.
While most brands ask, “Will this offend consumers in Sector B Segment 17?” Nike asks, “Does this matter?”
And that’s why people tattoo the swoosh on their bodies while they wouldn’t even stick most other brand logos on their laptops.
Nike doesn’t follow culture. It provokes it. It nudges it. Sometimes it karate kicks it. And culture loves them for it.
Coca-Cola — The Brand That Made Personalisation a Global Hug
And the genius? Coke didn’t assume culture is youth. Grandparents hunted for bottles with their grandkids’ names. Couples gifted each other bottles because apparently emotional vulnerability is easier when it comes with carbonated sugar.
“Share a Coke” wasn’t just printing names on bottles. If it were, every brand on Earth would be selling personalised packets of salt by now. Coke tapped into something deeper: people love seeing themselves reflected in the world. It’s cultural psychology 101.
Suddenly, a bottle wasn’t a beverage—it was a message. A wink to a friend. A flirtation. An apology. A social currency.
Coke didn’t bolt itself onto culture; it became the canvas for cultural expression.
That’s culture: inclusive, shared, and sometimes shamelessly sentimental.
Spotify Wrapped — Confession Meets Celebration
Spotify Wrapped understood one beautiful truth:
Culture today is public self-expression with a sprinkle of self-mockery.
Wrapped doesn’t judge your questionable listening habits; it exposes them with pride.
So when Spotify tells you, “You listened to 43 hours of heartbreak songs while claiming 2024 was your growth year,” you nod and say, “Accurate.”
Wrapped became a cultural ritual because it feels participatory, not performative. It doesn’t just observe culture; it creates a seasonal moment the world looks forward to. Wrapped is basically Christmas for people who think they have niche music taste but in reality listen to the same three sad songs daily.
That’s cultural orchestration, not cultural cosplay.
Zomato — The Sharpest Tongue in Indian Advertising
Zomato cracked something agencies still struggle with:
Tone is culture.
Those push notifications—playful, cheeky, sometimes borderline flirty—became a shared national experience. Zomato didn’t act like a brand. It acted like that one friend who texts you at 11 PM saying, “Order fries. You deserve it.”
Their copy felt human—no jargon, no grandstanding, no “brand voice alignment workshops.” Just culturally fluent timing, humour, and self-awareness. At a time when most brands sound like HR manuals, Zomato sounded like a person you’d actually reply to.
And the best part? They never pretended they were solving world peace. They were solving hunger and boredom, and they did it with swagger.
So Where Does That Leave Everyone Else?
In long meetings discussing “culture decks” made by people who have never stepped into a real cultural moment since college.
Culture is messy. It’s contradictory. It doesn’t wait for approvals.
It evolves while you’re still formatting the PowerPoint.
Brands shouldn’t try to own culture. That’s how you end up looking like an uncle doing a TikTok dance—enthusiastic but rhythmically confused. Brands should participate honestly, vulnerably, and without pretending they’re cool.
Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:
Culture isn’t a strategy. Culture is a mirror.
Brands that look into it honestly tend to do well.
Brands that use it only to admire themselves deserve the awkward silence that follows.
Culture isn’t something you borrow for a campaign.
It’s something you earn by not being a complete numpty.
Honest Reviews 