If the Silicon Valley of the 2000s and 2010s prided itself on an anti-fashion ethos—the hoodie, the New Balance trainer, the uniform of studied indifference to material possessions—then today’s tech billionaires have flipped the script.
These days, Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg is a jiu-jitsu-practicing, Richard Mille-wearing, power-lifting tycoon whose aesthetic suggests something between a Bond villain and a UFC champion. Elon Musk, the self-styled messiah of Mars and free-speech absolutism, oscillates between Belstaff leather flight jackets that scream “ageing rock star managing his seventh divorce” and all-black Tom Ford suits that suggest “billionaire villain in a sci-fi movie who insists he’s the hero.”
Then there’s Amazon’s Jeff Bezos, once a dorky, fleece-vested book salesman, who has since undergone a biceps-first metamorphosis into a Vin Diesel-adjacent yacht lord. These days, he’s a fixture at Milan Fashion Week, turning up at Dolce & Gabbana shows in impeccably tailored trousers and a D&G leather bomber jacket. The New York Times has gone as far as to label him a style icon. It’s a stark contrast to 1999 when he revealed to WIRED his love for shirts with “hidden snaps” under the collar points for easy tie removal.
Bezos can now be seen at D&G fashion shows…
Photograph: ALESSANDRO GAROFALO
… a far cry from when he rocked shirts with snaps under the collar points for easy tie removal.
Photograph: Paul Souders/Getty Images
The new tech oligarchy, forged in the crucible of Trump-era chaos, has moved beyond the faux humility of Patagonia vests and Allbirds. They are dressing like titans, strongmen, and emperors because, in their minds, that’s exactly what they are. Their outfits do not merely say I have wealth. They declare “I have power, and I intend to wield it.”
Parable of Power
In many ways, this aesthetic evolution tells a larger story about the consolidation of power in the tech industry. There was a time when tech billionaires maintained a carefully curated image of modesty—Elon Musk, for instance, once claimed to live in a tiny house on his sprawling estate. When asked why he wore the same thing every day, Zuckerberg responded: “I’m in this really lucky position where I get to wake up every day and help serve more than a billion people. I feel like I’m not doing my job if I spend any of my energy on things that are silly or frivolous about my life.”
But now, that mindset has shifted. “They’re openly embracing their status as modern-day oligarchs, fully leaning into wealth, power, and influence. And they’re celebrating it with some seriously big watch purchases,” says WIRED’s watch expert Tim Barber. Nowhere is this shift more apparent than in figures like Zuckerberg, who, while systematically dismantling fact-checking protections across Meta platforms, is doing so with an exceptionally rare $895,000 Greubel Forsey Hand Made 1 timepiece strapped to his wrist.
Zuckerberg, while announcing that he would be dismantling fact-checking protections across Meta platforms, decided the proper look for this news would be his AI-inspired glow-up outfit complete with $895,000 watch.
Luxury watches have long been markers of power, but Silicon Valley initially distanced itself from that tradition. Jobs wore a humble Seiko. Bill Gates has never been one for flash. Zuckerberg, for years, followed suit—until he didn’t. The shift was caught on video. At a pre-wedding party for Anant Ambani, heir to one of India’s wealthiest families, Zuckerberg was seen marvelling at a sapphire-crystal Richard Mille watch—a brand synonymous with extreme wealth, with entry prices from $365,000.
“I never really wanted to get a watch,” Zuckerberg is heard saying. “But after seeing that… watches are so cool!” Within weeks, Zuckerberg had embraced horology with zeal. Notable additions include a $783,000 rose gold Patek Philippe Ref. 5303R-001, a $90,000 De Bethune DB25 Starry Varius featuring a blue dial with a depiction of the Milky Way, and €40,910 FP Journe Chronomètre Souverain Havana. Musk’s watch collection is also high-end but more pedestrian, more predictable (Rolex, Omega, TAG).
“This evolution in tech culture mirrors the robber barons of the past. Today’s billionaires, like those of 100 or 150 years ago, appear largely indifferent to public perception,” continues Barber. He notes that collecting watches, in itself, isn’t an indicator of morality. It’s simply that high-end watches have become part of the new uniform. “The equivalent of the understated Apple Watch once worn by the ‘thoughtful, responsible’ tech leader. Now, intricate, ultra-expensive timepieces have become the accessory of the ‘I don’t care’ billionaire.”
A decidedly less style-focused Elon Musk years before his modern Nazi-like salute era…
Photograph: AP Photo/ PAUL SAKUMA
… now (when not endorsing far-right political parties) he prefers Belstaff jackets, Tom Ford suits and outfits Ernest Shackleton might wear.
Photograph: NurPhoto/Getty Images
The tech billionaires have long been aligning themselves with mythmaking, macho masculinity narratives. In 2018, Musk began working with designer Emily Dawn Long on his new look, supposedly looking to channel macho male icons such as Harrison Ford, Paul Newman and Antarctic explorer Ernest Shackleton. As a result, Musk reportedly dropped six figures on a vintage Paul Newman Rolex Daytona, a watch synonymous with masculine cool. He also added a Tesla-branded black cowboy hat to his rotation, a symbol of frontier bravado and lone-wolf individualism, evoking the mythos of the self-made pioneer—whether wrangling AI, space travel, or the X algorithm.
It’s not just watches. Zuckerberg’s wardrobe now includes custom t-shirts emblazoned with historical mottos: “Pathei Mathos” (Greek for “learning through suffering”), “Carthago delenda est” (Latin for “Carthage must be destroyed”), and “Aut Zuck aut nihil” (Latin for “Zuck or nothing”). These phrases, steeped in imperialistic and warrior-like rhetoric, suggest a new, more aggressive self-styling that asserts power.
It’s a far cry from his 2018 Senate hearings, where he appeared in an ill-fitting suit that made him look more like a teenager at his first job interview than a formidable tech CEO. “Part of his rebrand seems to be about rehabilitating his standing within Meta and corporate America, through alignment with dominant trends that prioritize charisma over contemplation, machismo over moderation,” says Dr. Benjamin Wild, cultural historian and fashion communication lead at the UK’s Manchester Fashion Institute.
However, one of the most striking things about Zuckerberg’s style transformation is how public, deliberate and immediate it has been, he says. The first sign arrived back in April 2024, when an AI image of a bearded Mark Zuckerberg went viral on social media. After that fake image, Zuckerberg began to embrace a more fashion-forward and assertive style, even prompting Meta’s own AI to suggest a new look for himself. He was seen wearing gold chains, designer clothing, and sporting a more muscular physique, reflecting his interest in mixed martial arts (MMA) training.
“We cannot lose sight of the fact that this tech billionaire used the AI feature on his own platform to reimagine his look, then committed to it once the image went viral. That speaks to how external validation still fuels self-presentation, regardless of status,” says fashion commentator and author of A Sunday Journal Substack Jesica Wagstaff, who adds that it also signals just how much conservative aesthetics have seeped into the American cultural bloodstream.
“Granted, Zuckerberg initially asked for an AI rendering of himself as a ‘streetwear designer in LA.’ But he didn’t just adopt the look; he distorted it with personal signifiers—status symbols, combat-ready aesthetics, and a sliver of dystopian machismo. The effect is an uber-wealthy MMA fighter,” continues Wagstaff. “And that’s very much the point. Zuckerberg is no longer just the nerd who created Facebook. He’s a jiu-jitsu-practising, watch-collecting, gaming dad who loves his wife and kids—and still finds time to strip online protections from vulnerable users of his platform. We’re meant to see him glow up and ask ourselves, ‘What can’t Mark Zuckerberg do?’”
The answer to that question, of course, depends on who is asking. To his elite peers, Zuckerberg’s latest image signals strength, power, and cultural awareness. To the rest of the world, it may be another reminder that those who claim to lead us are increasingly operating in a world entirely their own.
When Did This New Dress Code Drop?
Personal style has long been a tool in the arsenal of the tech elite. Steve Jobs famously rejected traditional status symbols in favor of a self-imposed uniform: The infamous black Issey Miyake turtleneck, Levi’s jeans, and New Balance trainers. Many of Silicon Valley’s most prominent figures followed suit, embracing a lux-tinted version of understated, utilitarian dressing—embodied in 2017 by $500 Lanvin low-top sneakers favored by the likes of Satya Nadella and Larry Page. Of course, this stripped-down approach to fashion wasn’t an abdication of style; it was a strategic choice.
Zuckerberg’s custom t-shirts emblazoned with historical mottos including “Aut Zuck aut nihil”, Latin for “Zuck or nothing”, suggest a new, more aggressive self-styling that asserts power.
Photograph: picture alliance/Getty Images
In an industry that prides itself on disruption, dressing down became its own kind of dominance, while also reflecting the tech ideology of the time: Innovation over tradition, efficiency over excess, and—at least in its early days—a belief that technology existed to serve people, not just profit from them.
Indeed, in the early 2000s and 2010s, tech’s biggest names presented themselves as visionaries on a mission to democratize access, improve lives, and build a better future. The industry positioned itself as an antidote to Wall Street’s greed, and the seemingly casual uniform of t-shirts, hoodies, and sneakers reinforced that distinction. Tech leaders weren’t flashy bankers in tailored suits; they were problem solvers, engineers, and idealists, working toward a utopian vision of progress.
“Zuckerberg’s style shift says something about a specific group of American billionaires who are aligning themselves with what looks to be a new political order within the United States,” says Dr. Wild. “These moguls control multinationals, which include Meta, Google, Amazon and Uber, that have an extraordinary capacity to influence people’s decision-making, and who are consequently prime figures for politicians to moderate.” While the Biden administration did this via the judicial arm of government and legal courts, it appears President Trump seems inclined to handle these men through his personal court, where they are required to seek his approval.
“We saw this at Trump’s presidential inauguration,” says Dr. Wild, “where the invitees constituted a who’s who of American tech billionaires. For me, there are strong parallels with medieval royal courts, where members of the aristocracy competed among themselves, often in what they wore and how they consumed, for the attention and patronage of the ruler. Within America today, these men seem less concerned about their perception among the public, and far more concerned about how they appear to one another, and Trump.”
For now, some tech bros—Sam Altman included—are still clinging to their tees and action slacks, but how long before their look evolves to match the growing power they wield? OpenAI, after all, seems to be getting darker by the day. And then there’s Sundar Pichai, the quiet architect of Google’s AI empire, whose fashion may not be making headlines (yet), but whose policies certainly are. Under his watch, Alphabet just scrapped its long-standing promise not to develop AI for weapons or surveillance.
So what’s next? A titanium Richard Mille built for billionaires with defense contracts? A bespoke Brunello Cucinelli cashmere sweater embazoned with “In AI We Trust”? Pichai’s already ditched the New Balance memo for those Lanvin sneakers, with hype footwear a previous gateway drug for billionaires (Zuck famously has a penchant for Adidas 4DFWD x Strung trainers). If the new tech dress code is all about signaling dominance, surely it won’t be long before Pichai and Altman follow suit. Because in Silicon Valley, power isn’t just wielded—now it’s worn.
The Impunity of Reinvention
The curious thing? Few are questioning Mark Zuckerberg’s transformation. Most commentary fixates on the what and how—his sculpted physique, designer accessories, and combat-ready aesthetic—rather than the why. “This emphasises the persistence of gender inequalities. When Kamala Harris was running for office, her aesthetic choices were scrutinised relentlessly. Yet Zuckerberg’s evolution is met with curiosity rather than critique. It highlights the impunity with which powerful men can reinvent themselves,” says Dr. Wild.
For Zuckerberg, the shift from awkward tech nerd to combat-trained, physically imposing leader mirrors the broader trajectory of Silicon Valley itself. The archetype of the hoodie-clad disruptor has been replaced by something more militarized, more overtly aggressive. The new tech oligarchy isn’t just about controlling perception; it’s about controlling entire industries—perhaps even countries. And increasingly, it operates beyond the reach of traditional accountability.
Zuckerberg’s aesthetic evolution coincides with Meta’s rollbacks on content moderation, a move that aligns him with the political right. His embrace of high-status signifiers (luxury mechanical watches, gold chains, a hardened MMA physique) signals alignment with a particular brand of alpha masculinity that is scarily rife among the elite. Moreover, his media appointed “tech bro glow up” reflects a deeper truth about power: The extraordinary privilege of wealthy men to rewrite their own narratives, shedding past identities at will. Reinvention, in this context, isn’t just self-expression, it’s an assertion of dominance.
Just watch the reaction as a beaming Musk appears as a surprise guest, streamed in on huge video screens to the far-right Alternative for Germany national election campaign launch in January. “You have to make a decision,” said the AfD’s Maximilian Krah. “Do you want to have the party of [Chancellor] Olaf Scholz and all those eunuchs? Or are you on our side, with Elon Musk and Donald Trump? Which side has more sex appeal?”
If history teaches us anything, it’s this: When the richest men in the world start dressing like emperors, the rest of us should pay attention. Because power, when it rebrands itself, is rarely just about aesthetics. It’s a warning.