China Love Gone Sour: Big Brands, Big Bets, Bigger Faceplants

Ah, the great China dream.

Estee Lauder, Diageo, LVMH — the giants of face cream, whiskey, and handbags — once drooled over China’s “untapped” luxury market. They rushed in like kiasu shoppers at a warehouse sale, splashing billions on glitzy stores, influencer campaigns, and boardroom PowerPoints screaming “China = Growth!”

They weren’t alone. Nike banked on China’s sneaker craze. Apple poured sweat over iPhone market share. Starbucks planted more stores in Shanghai than Seattle has potholes. The message was simple: China would keep the golden goose laying.

But leh, the goose just hissed and flew off.

Political winds shifted. Beijing got picky. Local brands grew up. National pride surged. And now, China’s telling the MNCs — in polite but unmistakable terms — “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

What’s the result? Share prices in freefall. Estee Lauder just announced brutal layoffs. Nike is slashing jobs globally. Starbucks admits “headwinds” after years of bullish China talk. LVMH, the ultimate luxury flex, watches mainland demand cool as rich Chinese pivot to local brands or keep their wallets shut.

Aiyoh — didn’t these guys learn Kopitiam Economics 101?

Even your average kopi uncle knows you don’t rely on one supplier, one customer, or one jackpot table. If the Malaysian kopi bean supply fails, you have Indonesia or Brazil on standby.

You don’t bet the shop on one market — no matter how shiny.

But these MNCs? They poured everything into China and acted shocked when the rules of the game changed. Did they think the gravy train would chug along forever? Did no one read the fine print on Beijing’s “open for business” slogan?

Here’s the hard truth:

• Diversification isn’t optional; it’s survival.

• Nationalism isn’t a short-term PR problem; it’s structural risk.

• Local competition isn’t “cute”; it’s a takeover in slow motion.

So, to the CEOs of Estee Lauder, Diageo, LVMH, Nike, Starbucks, and the rest of the gang — next time, before you mortgage the company on one mahjong table, maybe have kopi with your neighborhood hawker uncle. We may not rock MBAs, but we know:

Don’t put all your ayam in one basket.

Now, if you’ll excuse me — my kaya toast is calling.