Having dabbled in the business of rosé wine and worked with Chimi on a pair of signature eyewear, the comedic content creator known as ‘Gstaad Guy’ is now getting into the jewellery game — courtesy of “modular charm” brand Poubel.
Another lucrative vertical of lifestyle goods popular among the one (and would-be-one) percent, it feels like it was only a matter of time before Gstaad Guy leveraged his split comic persona — consisting of prim, blue-blooded Constance and feckless ‘Cousin’ Colton — to capitalise on the world of worn fashion accessories.
All of the motifs in the Poubel universe will feel familiar to those who’ve come across the internet’s favourite (fictional) one percenter.
At time of writing, these include a ‘cake’ charm referencing Constance’s love of the signature dessert at Cipriani; a ‘Poubelle’ pendant inspired by the character’s most (over)quoted catchphrase (“Ã la poubelle”); and an ‘Iced Matcha’ detail meant to lampoon the Gen Z lifestyle of Cousin Colton.
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Less than a fortnight after launch, the Poubel e-comm offers a range of charms, pendants, and metal links upon which to display said wry little status signifiers.
Per Gstaad Guy himself, there’s no suggestion that Poubel need only be worn on the body: shorter link chains can be attached to Hermès handbags or designer dog leashes, leading to “customisation possibilities [that] are practically infinite”.
For lovers of peak-influencer-economy fashion, who aren’t necessarily interested in putting together their own necklace or wristlet, Poubel also stocks two preset versions of its signature bracelet.
These are dubbed, unsurprisingly, the ‘Constance’ and ‘Colton’. Both priced at $905, they consist of 6 charms apiece (each inspired by their respective namesake) and interchangeable links.
Of course, the question of just how charming you find Poubel’s whole self-aware, vaguely meta shtick will vary according to personal taste.
For some consumers, the notion of paying almost four figures for a hunk of unremarkably made silver, “hand-painted” with the iconography of the idle rich, will feel dangerously close to self-parody.
For others however — the kind of serially unserious, high-net-worth individuals on whom Gstaad Guy built his original following — there’s every chance that Poubel will prove resonant: something just fun and frivolous enough to stack atop your Royal Oak chronograph, floating through Moltrasio aboard the bateau.
