Valentine’s Day marketing: A love story with a price tag

In a world where love is often measured in dollars and dimes, Valentine’s Day has transformed from a modest celebration of affection into a grand stage for modern marketing—a showcase where capitalism and sentiment tango in a complex, often contradictory dance. The holiday’s journey from ancient rituals to a multi-billion-dollar consumer event is a tale of reinvention, one in which marketing strategies have not only redefined the way we express love but have also reconfigured our cultural landscape.

From Lupercalia to love letters

Valentine’s Day didn’t begin as a marketplace spectacle. Its origins can be traced back to the Roman festival of Lupercalia—a raucous, pagan celebration marking the arrival of spring with rituals as wild as goat sacrifices and fertility rites. The festival’s boisterous energy was later repurposed by the Church, as Pope Gelasius I sought to replace pagan practices with Christian observances dedicated to a possibly apocryphal Saint Valentine. The exact historical details remain murky, much like the legend of St. Valentine himself, but by the time Geoffrey Chaucer penned verses linking the day with romantic courtship, the seeds of what we now recognise as Valentine’s Day had been firmly planted.

During the fifteenth century, the act of exchanging valentines—cards adorned with Cupids and heartfelt messages—began to take shape. It was the Victorians, however, who truly fanned the flames of commercialisation by pairing the sentiment with tangible tokens: flowers, chocolates, and, later, extravagant gifts. Each of these milestones represents a critical juncture where tradition met emerging consumer culture, setting the stage for the modern marketing blitz.

Crafting a day of consumption

Fast-forward to the present and Valentine’s Day has become an exemplar of holiday overconsumption. Retailers and advertisers have perfected the art of persuasion, turning a day once reserved for quiet declarations of love into a showcase of luxury and excess. Billboards flash slogans like “She’ll love love love you forever,” while digital campaigns flood social media feeds, reinforcing the notion that the value of one’s affection can—and should—be measured in lavish spending.

Statistics paint a telling picture: in the United States alone, consumers are projected to spend over $27.5 billion on Valentine’s Day, with the average purchase approaching $188.81—a sum that equates to roughly three full days of minimum-wage labour. This marketing message, expertly tailored by brands, not only instils a sense of urgency but also perpetuates the belief that grand gestures, often accompanied by equally grand price tags, are the ultimate proof of love. In this commercial narrative, the ability to spend becomes intertwined with the capacity to care, and even the simplest of tokens is imbued with the expectation of a hefty price.

The commercialisation of Valentine’s Day can be traced back to the early 19th century with the rise of mass-produced greeting cards. Before this, romantic gestures were largely handwritten love notes exchanged privately between lovers. However, in the 1840s, American entrepreneur Esther Howland saw an opportunity to capitalise on this tradition. Shecommercialisation  began mass-producing elaborate, lace-trimmed Valentine’s Day cards, effectively creating one of the first industries dedicated to the holiday.

With the advent of industrialised printing and cheaper postal services, the greeting card industry flourished. By the early 20th century, companies like Hallmark (founded in 1910) capitalised on the growing demand for sentimental messages, reinforcing the idea that expressing love required a tangible, store-bought token. Marketing campaigns promoted the belief that a heartfelt message was best conveyed through professionally crafted words, subtly discouraging handwritten notes in favour of their commercial alternatives.

By the mid-20th century, marketing efforts had extended beyond greeting cards. Companies in other industries saw the potential to promote their products in conjunction with the holiday, and through persistent advertising, they successfully established new traditions.

• Chocolate: The link between chocolate and romance dates back to the Victorian era, but it was largely popularised by brands like Cadbury, Hershey’s, and later, Godiva. In the 1920s and 1930s, chocolate companies marketed their sweets as indulgent, romantic treats, encouraging men to buy them as gifts for their partners. The invention of the heart-shaped chocolate box further cemented its place in Valentine’s tradition.

• Flowers: The floral industry also capitalised on the holiday, with red roses—symbolising love and passion—becoming the default Valentine’s gift. Florists, working in tandem with advertisers, reinforced the message that gifting flowers was not just thoughtful but necessary. The phrase "say it with flowers" became an advertising staple, pushing sales and solidifying the association between floral arrangements and love.

• Jewellery: Perhaps the most lucrative sector to tap into Valentine’s Day was the jewellery industry. By the 1980s, companies like De Beers—already known for their diamond engagement ring campaigns—began aggressively marketing diamonds as the ultimate Valentine’s gift. Ads emphasised that true love required a significant financial investment, reinforcing the idea that expensive jewellery was the most meaningful way to express devotion.

The global supply chain behind the romance

The influence of capitalism on Valentine’s Day extends far beyond local boutiques and dining reservations—it permeates the global supply chain that underpins the holiday’s material manifestations. Take, for instance, the ubiquitous rose. Each Valentine’s bouquet is the final product of an intricate international collaboration involving growers, shippers, and retailers spanning continents. With 250 million roses cultivated just for this season and many of these blossoms flown in from Latin America, the environmental and economic stakes are high.

In countries like Colombia and Ecuador—where labour is relatively inexpensive and favourable trade agreements (such as the Andean Trade Preference Act) have bolstered the floriculture industry—roses are produced at a scale and cost that domestic growers in places like California often cannot match. However, the rapid air freight of these delicate flowers comes with a significant environmental toll. Cargo jets flying daily in the weeks before Valentine’s burn millions of litres of fuel and emit staggering amounts of carbon dioxide. Once on the ground, refrigerated trucks continue the energy-intensive journey, underscoring the paradox at the heart of the holiday: the celebration of love packaged in a commodity whose production and distribution contribute to climate change.

Love, debt, and overproduction

The late 20th and early 21st centuries brought new marketing opportunities with the rise of the internet, online shopping, and social media. Brands adapted to digital platforms, using targeted ads, email campaigns, and influencer partnerships to reach consumers.

• E-commerce boom: With the convenience of online shopping, Valentine’s Day sales surged. Websites like Amazon, Etsy, Flipkart and major retailers optimised their search algorithms and ad placements to ensure Valentine's related products dominated online searches in the weeks leading up to February 14th.

• Social media influence: Platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok further accelerated the commercialisation of the holiday. Influencers and celebrities showcased lavish Valentine’s gifts and extravagant date nights, reinforcing the idea that bigger and more expensive gestures equate to deeper love. Hashtags like #ValentinesGiftGuide and #RelationshipGoals flooded social media, subtly pressuring consumers to participate in the culture of spending.

• Personalisation and experiential marketing: Companies have increasingly moved beyond physical gifts to market personalised experiences—luxury getaways, spa treatments, and gourmet dining experiences—all of which are strategically promoted through digital ads and influencer endorsements.

Marketing campaigns have masterfully linked the act of gift-giving with the demonstration of deep affection. Yet, this narrative comes at a cost—both for individuals and for the broader economy. The pressure to conform to a high-consumption ideal has led many to overspend, often stretching household budgets to the breaking point. The belief that “nothing is enough” drives consumers to equate the monetary value of a gift with the strength of their emotions, fostering a cycle of debt and financial strain. This phenomenon is not without consequences; overproduction spurred by seasonal demand often results in vast amounts of unsold merchandise and waste, feeding into a cycle that is as economically unstable as it is environmentally damaging.

On the flip side, proponents of holiday spending argue that the influx of billions of dollars—allegedly stimulating local economies from restaurants to florists—serves as a vital economic engine. However, this boost is often illusory. The erratic spending patterns, characterised by sharp spikes followed by precipitous drops, fail to create sustained economic growth and instead contribute to imbalances that can ripple through the market long after the holiday has passed.

The performance of love

At its core, the marketing of Valentine’s Day is a study in persuasion. By transforming everyday expressions of affection into commodified rituals, advertisers have tapped into a deep-seated human desire for validation and connection. Social media platforms have amplified this effect, turning the exchange of gifts into a public performance where the act of giving is as much about appearance as it is about sentiment. In this light, the well-curated Instagram post featuring a meticulously arranged bouquet or a staged dinner becomes a modern love letter—not to a person, but to the ideals of romance as defined by market forces.

This performative aspect is underlined by a tension that many consumers now feel. On the one hand, the flood of advertisements and cultural narratives creates an almost inescapable expectation to spend lavishly; on the other, there is a growing awareness and critique of how capitalism has redefined personal relationships. Critics argue that when the personal becomes inextricably linked with consumerism, genuine affection is at risk of being diluted into a series of transactions, where even acts of kindness are measured against price tags.

Yet, in the annals of modern romance, marketing also plays a unifying role. As Leonard Read famously illustrated in “I, Pencil,” the creation of even the simplest object is a testament to the global web of human ingenuity and cooperation. Every Hallmark card, every piece of jewellery, and every scented candle is the product of countless hands, ideas, and transactions—a silent reminder that commerce can also weave the threads of connection among strangers. In this sense, capitalism does more than merely commodify love; it creates a network of interdependence that spans continents, cultures, and communities.

Nuance in the narrative

In recent years, a counter-narrative has begun to emerge amid the overwhelming tide of consumerism. Some consumers and brands are now championing authenticity over ostentation, advocating for gestures that emphasise thoughtfulness and sustainability. Whether it’s choosing a locally grown bouquet over an imported one or crafting a handmade card instead of purchasing a pre-packaged greeting, there is a growing movement that seeks to reclaim the original spirit of Valentine’s Day—a day meant to celebrate genuine human connection rather than mere monetary exchange.

These alternative approaches, however, still operate within the broader framework of a market-driven society. Even sustainable or artisanal gifts are subject to marketing narratives that tout their uniqueness and ethical credentials. Thus, while they offer a refreshing deviation from the norm, they also highlight a critical tension: the desire to express individuality and authenticity in a world where even the most sincere gestures are filtered through the lens of capitalism.

Valentine’s Day, as we know it today, is a complex carpet woven from threads of ancient tradition, modern marketing, and global commerce. It is a day when the art of persuasion takes centre stage and where the interplay between love and money is as intricate as a well-choreographed dance. On the one hand, the holiday celebrates the timeless human desire for connection and intimacy; on the other, it serves as a stark reminder of how deeply capitalism can infiltrate even our most personal rituals.

For marketers, Valentine’s Day offers both an opportunity and a challenge: to craft narratives that resonate emotionally while acknowledging the realities of overconsumption and environmental impact. As brands continue to push the boundaries of persuasion—encouraging us to measure our affections in dollar signs—it remains incumbent upon consumers to navigate these influences with a discerning eye.