When advertising transcends commerce, it becomes culture. From Gap’s KATSEYE campaign to India’s Amul and Cadbury classics, the power lies in representation, emotion and belonging — reminding us that the most persuasive brands don’t just sell products, they tell human stories that unite

When Gap dropped its “Better in Denim” campaign with KATSEYE earlier this year, it felt less like an ad and more like a cultural phenomenon. A brand that had slipped off the radar suddenly pulled the world back in with six women, a riot of denim and colour, and choreography that made you want to get up and move. But beyond the surface, something deeper was happening: this wasn’t just about jeans. It was about who gets seen, how they’re seen, and what that visibility means in a world where culture itself is a form of power.

Advertising has always been about symbols. Every choice, casting, colour palette, lighting, posture, is a loaded message. Who is front and centre? Who is allowed to take up space? KATSEYE, a group built out of multiple countries and cultures, gave Gap the perfect answer. Put simply, they looked like the world. Each member styled in denim but in her own way, dancing not with forced precision but with joy. It was a visual declaration: identity is strength, diversity is beautiful, and this brand wants to be the backdrop to that celebration.

Colour itself carried weight here. Denim’s deep indigo has long symbolised utility, toughness and working-class authenticity. But paired with KATSEYE’s choreography and kaleidoscopic staging, it transformed into a metaphor for universality. The backdrop’s bursts of vibrancy, the way lighting picked up the shades of skin and fabric, all made the ad feel like a living painting. It wasn’t sterile fashion marketing; it was colour as cultural language, signalling vibrancy, inclusivity and modernity. That kind of visual grammar is what gives advertising its real persuasive power, audiences may not consciously notice, but they feel it.

The impact was immediate and staggering. Within days, the commercial had broken records across TikTok and Instagram. People weren’t just watching, they were walking into stores, some admitting they didn’t even need jeans but felt compelled to buy a pair. That’s when you know an ad has crossed into soft power territory. It stops being about the fabric or the cut and starts being about the feeling. When audiences see women of different ethnicities dancing without apology, they see themselves. And when they feel seen, they buy in, literally.

The ripple effects were global. Articles described it as a “cultural takeover,” fans across continents recreated the choreography, and TikTok was flooded with denim dance challenges. In Seoul, London, São Paulo and Mumbai, Gap suddenly became relevant again. This wasn’t a local campaign; it was a soft-power broadcast where the product became secondary to the collective mood. Gap harnessed KATSEYE’s global fandom, but also the universal language of joy, movement and representation. It’s a reminder that in an age of fragmented media, one well-executed ad can still cut through borders and build a shared cultural moment.

This is soft power in action. Not the coercion of states or the bluntness of politics, but the quieter persuasion of attraction. A campaign like Gap × KATSEYE tells a global audience: we see you, you belong here. And in that moment, a clothing brand steps into the role of cultural diplomat. It blurs the lines between commerce and international relations, between corporate branding and the idea of national or communal identity.

India, of course, has always known this instinct. Think back to the Cadbury Dairy Milk ad that showed a girl running onto a cricket field when her team won, the unrestrained joy, the little act of breaking boundaries, the way it etched itself into our collective memory. Or the more recent Cadbury spot where a

Tamil-speaking woman feels left out of a Hindi conversation until someone switches to English, bridging the gap with kindness. That wasn’t just chocolate; it was an ode to the multicultural, multilingual heart of India.

Equally significant is Amul, which has practically written the textbook on advertising as soft power. Everyone knows the cheeky Amul girl, but perhaps the most powerful moment came when Amul leaned into Shyam Benegal’s Manthan. That 1976 film, funded by half a million farmers each contributing two rupees, told the story of India’s White Revolution. When Amul later used clips from the film in its ads, it blurred the line between cinema, social movement and brand. Those images of villagers, women carrying milk, the collective struggle and triumph, they didn’t feel like staged commercials. They felt like lived truth. In that sense, Amul wasn’t selling butter. It was selling an idea of India: cooperative, resilient, modern yet rooted. And people bought it, not just because they liked the product, but because they believed in the story.

Other Indian brands have tapped into similar veins. Surf Excel’s “Daag Achhe Hain” series reframed dirt not as mess but as proof of love, sacrifice and play, a powerful cultural reset that celebrated empathy rather than perfection. Tanishq’s wedding campaigns, featuring intergenerational and interfaith stories, pushed back against rigid norms and quietly spoke to India’s pluralism. These weren’t just ads; they became talking points, cultural signals that made people stop and reflect. Like Gap with KATSEYE, they worked because they were anchored in authenticity and struck at something society was already grappling with.

What Gap pulled off with KATSEYE taps into the same current. When advertising gets it right, it becomes bigger than itself. It tells us who we are, or who we want to be. It makes us feel part of a shared celebration. Yes, there will always be debates about tokenism or surface-level diversity, but authenticity has a way of cutting through. With KATSEYE, it worked because the group itself is genuinely global. With Cadbury, it worked because the awkwardness of language barriers is something millions of Indians live every day. With Amul, it worked because Manthan was our own story reflected back to us, unsentimental yet moving.

The truth is, the best ads don’t just sell products. They become mirrors in which societies catch glimpses of themselves. The Gap × KATSEYE campaign showed denim, sure, but what the world really bought was the feeling of belonging. That is soft power at its finest — not loud, not forced, but undeniable

The writer is Former Civil Servant, writes on Cinema and Strategic Communication. Inputs provided by Zoya Ahmad and Vaishnavie Srinivasan