Two campaigns, one uncomfortable truth—dissecting the psychology, strategy, and execution behind India’s latest self-celebration showdown.
Within a fortnight, two Indian brands launched campaigns that felt like twins separated at birth. Nykaa’s “Tum Hi Ho Nykaa” featuring Deepika Padukone and Mia by Tanishq’s “Precious, Every Day” with Aneet Padda both centre around the exact same insight: women getting ready for themselves, not for anyone else.
Yet here’s the uncomfortable truth that emerged from watching both ads: only one made me think of Miss Havisham—Dickens’ eternal bride in Great Expectations, all dolled up, stuck in her own world, waiting for someone who never shows up.
The numbers tell the real story. Despite Nykaa’s massive 1.58 million subscriber base and celebrity firepower, their campaign managed just 37,000 views in 22 hours. Meanwhile, Mia’s approach—with only 40.8K subscribers—racked up 2.7 million views in four days. That’s not just a difference in reach; it’s a fundamental difference in resonance.
As someone who’s spent countless mornings choosing between a full face of makeup and simply selecting meaningful jewellery, I can tell you exactly why one campaign works and the other feels performative. Let’s break it down.
The Setup: Same Mirror, Different Worlds
Both campaigns follow the self-love marketing template that’s dominated 2025:
- Woman preparing with intention
- Family member questioning the occasion
- Playful reveal about self-celebration
- Mirror as metaphor for self-reflection
Nykaa’s version: Deepika gives us swoon-worthy glam with nowhere to go. The ad asks: “Who gets ready just to go out? You do, Nykaa!” Yet the woman herself doesn’t actually go anywhere—she just stares at her reflection, beautifully isolated.
Mia’s version: Aneet’s approach feels effortless—she puts on jewellery, tosses her hair, and when her sister asks about her evening plans, reveals her “date” is with herself. It’s celebration, not performance.
The difference? One feels like genuine joy; the other feels like elaborate loneliness.
The Miss Havisham Moment: When Self-Care Becomes Performance
Here’s the thing about getting ready that beauty marketers often miss: there’s a profound difference between adorning yourself and performing for yourself.
I remember the first time I felt like Miss Havisham. It was during lockdown—I’d done a full face of makeup, complete with contouring and mascara, just to sit at my laptop. The intention was self-care, but staring at my reflection in the webcam, I felt oddly theatrical. Beautiful, yes. Empowered, maybe. But also strangely disconnected from any real purpose.
That’s exactly what Nykaa’s campaign evokes. Watching Deepika prepare so elaborately with nowhere to go creates that same sense of beautiful isolation—like getting dressed up for a party that was cancelled but going through all the motions anyway.
The psychology here is crucial. Research shows that 82% of daily beauty practices are about emotional regulation, not appearance. But when the ritual becomes too elaborate, too divorced from practical context, it shifts from emotional comfort to emotional performance.
Why Jewellery Feels Different: The Authenticity Factor
Here’s where my personal experience diverges into something more universal. Selecting jewellery feels fundamentally different from doing makeup. When I choose earrings in the morning, it’s often intuitive—silver hoops for a creative day, small studs for focus, something with colour when I need energy.
Mia’s campaign captures this perfectly. Aneet’s jewellery selection feels natural because it taps into behaviour most women already practice. We choose pieces that reflect our mood, mark special moments, or simply make us smile when we catch our reflection unexpectedly.
The cultural context matters too. In Indian households, jewellery selection is often ritualistic—connected to centuries-old traditions of adornment as self-respect and celebration. It’s embedded in daily routine, not added to it.
Makeup, on the other hand, requires intention, time, and skill. When it’s not connected to a specific purpose—work, social events, or genuine creative expression—it can feel performative rather than natural.
The Numbers Game: Why Authenticity Wins
Let’s talk about what really happened when these campaigns launched:
Nykaa’s Challenge:
- 1.58M subscribers, 2.8K videos
- Celebrity budget and PR machine
- Only 37K views in 22 hours
- Comments questioning the relatability
Mia’s Success:
- 40.8K subscribers, 621 videos
- Unknown ambassador, smaller budget
- 2.7M views in 4 days
- Organic engagement and sharing
This isn’t just about reach—it’s about resonance. Despite having 40 times fewer subscribers, Mia generated 70 times more engagement per subscriber. That’s the power of authenticity over aspiration.
The data reveals something important about modern Indian consumers: they’re increasingly sceptical of celebrity-driven messaging and more drawn to scenarios that reflect their actual lives. 90% of Gen Z prioritises authenticity when deciding which brands to support, and they can spot performative marketing from miles away.
The Miss Havisham Test: A Personal Framework
After watching both campaigns, I developed what I call the Miss Havisham test for self-love marketing:
Ask yourself:
- Does this feel like genuine celebration or performed solitude?
- Would I naturally do this, or would I feel obligated to try it?
- Does it connect to existing rituals or require entirely new behaviours?
- Does it make me feel empowered or pressured?
Mia passes this test effortlessly. The jewellery ritual feels like something I already do—choosing pieces mindfully, appreciating how they catch the light, feeling the weight of metal as a comforting presence throughout the day.
Nykaa struggles with authenticity. While there’s nothing wrong with elaborate self-care, the campaign asks viewers to embrace behaviour that most don’t naturally practice. Getting fully glammed with nowhere to go can feel empowering for some, but for many, it evokes that Miss Havisham syndrome—beautiful but isolated, prepared for a celebration that exists only in the mirror.
Digital Strategy: Celebrity vs. Cultural Relevance
Nykaa’s Celebrity Gamble
The choice of Deepika Padukone represents classic reach-maximisation marketing—leveraging star power for immediate recognition. With her 45 million follower base aligned with Nykaa’s demographics, it’s marketing mathematics at its most straightforward.
However, celebrity campaigns face the “overshadowing effect.” Research shows that celebrity personas can overshadow brand messaging, preventing audiences from focusing on actual product value. The low view count suggests that even celebrity power can’t overcome authenticity gaps.
Mia’s Authenticity Strategy
Meanwhile, Mia’s choice of Aneet Padda represents a fundamental shift towards cultural relevance over celebrity glamour. She embodies what marketing researchers call “cultural authenticity”—genuine representation that feels accessible rather than aspirational.
The strategic implications are clear: In 2025’s fragmented attention economy, authenticity often trumps celebrity when it comes to actual engagement and sharing behaviour.
User Experience: What Women Actually Want
Here’s where personal experience becomes universal insight. As women, we know the difference between getting ready for others and getting ready for ourselves. The distinction isn’t just psychological—it’s practical.
Real self-care rituals share common characteristics:
- Familiar actions that require minimal cognitive load
- Genuine emotional comfort rather than external validation
- Integration with existing routines rather than disruption
- Personal meaning that connects to individual identity
Mia’s approach ticks all these boxes. Jewellery selection is already part of most women’s daily routines. Adding intention and celebration to this existing behaviour feels natural and sustainable.
Nykaa’s approach requires behavioural change. It asks women to adopt potentially unfamiliar routines (elaborate makeup at home) and maintain them for emotional benefit. This creates cognitive load rather than reducing it.
Cultural Context: The Jewellery Ritual vs. Beauty Performance
Living in India, I’ve observed how jewellery selection carries different emotional weight than makeup application. The jewellery ritual is culturally embedded—passed down through generations, connected to celebrations, marked by meaning.
Traditional Indian beauty practices emphasise daily rituals that nurture mind, body, and soul through simple, consistent practices. These include mindful selection of adornments, gratitude during personal preparation, and creating sacred moments in everyday routines.
Mia’s campaign feels culturally authentic because it acknowledges and celebrates behaviour that already exists. Indian women don’t need to be convinced to appreciate jewellery—they need to be reminded that appreciating it for themselves is valuable.
Nykaa’s approach feels culturally imported—taking Western self-love marketing concepts and applying them without considering how Indian women actually practice self-care. The full makeup routine at home, while empowering in theory, doesn’t align with how many Indian women naturally structure their beauty rituals.
The Psychology of Authentic vs. Performed Self-Love
Here’s what I’ve learned from my own beauty rituals: Authentic self-care feels effortless, even when it requires time and attention. Performed self-care feels like work, even when it produces beautiful results.
Authentic self-care (Mia’s approach):
- Establishes routine that brings stability
- Offers mindfulness moments without forced meditation
- Encourages social connection through shared cultural practices
- Feels personally meaningful rather than externally motivated
Performed self-care (Nykaa’s risk):
- Creates pressure to maintain elaborate routines
- Requires external validation for motivation
- Focuses on appearance over emotional well-being
- May increase anxiety about “doing it right”
The difference lies in integration vs. addition. Mia asks women to add meaning to existing actions. Nykaa asks them to add new actions to existing routines.
What the Future Holds: Beyond the Miss Havisham Moment
Both campaigns reveal crucial insights about where self-love marketing is heading. We’re approaching what futurists call the “unshittification” era of 2026—where consumers are fed up with AI-generated fakeness, algorithm-driven sameness, and fast-paced micro-trends that feel hollow.
The Miss Havisham syndrome we see in Nykaa’s approach represents exactly what’s dying: beautiful, elaborate, but tragically disconnected performances. Brand fatigue exists especially when brands copy and paste campaigns into social spaces and expect them to resonate.
For Generation Z—the “True Gen” who will outnumber Millennials by 2026—brand authenticity matters more than ever. They’re quick to stop buying from brands they perceive as performative. 86% of buyers want brands that portray honest personalities, while 83% want companies to share their values.
The implications are stark: Campaigns like Mia’s, which feel genuinely integrated into daily life, will thrive. Theatrical self-love performances like Nykaa’s risk becoming marketing museum pieces—beautiful relics of when brands thought louder meant more authentic.
Mirror vs. Reality
Best for Reach: Nykaa’s celebrity power guarantees attention, but doesn’t guarantee engagement.
Best for Relatability: Mia’s everyday approach feels like looking into your own mirror, not someone else’s.
Best for Longevity: Authentic behaviour patterns create sustainable brand relationships.
Best Dickensian Moment: Nykaa’s Miss Havisham effect—and that’s not always a compliment.
The real question isn’t which campaign is better—it’s which one reflects how women actually live. Mia’s mirror is one most women would actually hang in their own homes. Nykaa’s might be more beautiful, but it belongs in a museum.
Personal Takeaway: The Mirror Doesn’t Lie
As someone who loves both makeup and jewellery, I can honestly say that both have their place in authentic self-care. The difference lies not in the action itself, but in the intention behind it.
Some mornings, I choose elaborate makeup because it feeds my creativity. Other days, I select meaningful jewellery because it connects me to memory, tradition, or simply the pleasure of beautiful objects.
The key is that both choices come from within—not from external pressure to perform self-love for an audience, even if that audience is just me in the mirror.
That’s what separates genuine self-celebration from the Miss Havisham trap. Real self-love doesn’t require performance or perfection. It just requires presence—being genuinely present with ourselves, whether we’re choosing earrings or applying lipstick.
The mirror moment has become a marketing moment. But the campaigns that survive will be those that understand the difference between reflection and performance, between celebration and ceremony, between getting ready for yourself and getting ready to prove you can do it alone.
Until then, we’re all just trying not to become Miss Havisham—beautiful, elaborate, but tragically disconnected from the very joy we’re trying to create.
Ready to explore more campaign psychology?
Check out my deep-dive analysis of celebrity vs. authenticity strategies or browse my complete collection of Indian marketing campaign critiques for more unfiltered takes on what’s working (and what’s not) in contemporary brand storytelling.
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