A lot of us will soon be spending an hour of each day in the metaverse, or maybe more. We’ll attend classes and work events, explore exotic locales, visit with friends who live far and wide. And we’ll buy and sell stuff, because that’s what people do.
The technology research firm Gartner predicts 30% of the world’s organizations will be selling goods and services in the metaverse by 2026: “The metaverse will impact every business that consumers interact with every day.” It will likely consist of “a single environment” that’s “created by the convergence of virtually enhanced physical and digital reality.”
It’s not hard to imagine. I’m tethered to a computer for work, often Zooming with colleagues who live across an ocean or just down the street. I Wordle and Duolingo during my free time, when I’m not listening to an Audible book — which I do while my phone tracks the steps I take.
I also regularly FaceTime with my daughter. If I thought we’d feel more connected by “meeting for coffee” in a virtual cafe, I’d probably jump at the chance. Of course, I’d want my avatar to look good. (Younger, with better hair.)
I’m not alone. According to Vogue, “what we look like online is becoming just as important as our IRL (in real life) appearance.”
People are certainly spending real money to enhance their virtual selves. “Kitting yourself out, even virtually, is an expensive endeavor,” notes Leah Dolan of CNN, who attended Decentraland’s Metaverse Fashion Week in March. “Printed bucket hats and puffer jackets, as well as a glowing winged tuxedo … ranged anywhere from $1,670 to $2,740 a piece.”
Browsing myself, the Platinum $urfer (15,000€) caught my eye. If I understand the FAQs, I’d be the only person (avatar?) able to don the Platinum $urfer in Decentraland were I to purchase the full body outfit (skin). Of course, I’d actually be purchasing a non-fungible token (NFT), a “unique and irreplaceable” piece of data stored in a blockchain.
All this sounds very Tron to me, truthfully, and not particularly relevant to my life. But though NFTs exist in a virtual world, they’re affecting sales in the physical world. And that piques my interest.
According to Vogue Business, “there’s already a measurable knock-on effect for physical sales.” Searches for the brand Roksanda on Lyst reportedly jumped 76% after Roksanda created NFTs with the Institute of Digital Fashion during London Fashion Week. Likewise, brand searches for Diesel increased 41% after it announced at Milan Fashion Week that it would release NFTs in addition to physical clothes.
In fact, it would be “a mistake” to try to separate the digital and physical world, says Giovanna Graziosi Casimiro, the head of Metaverse Fashion Week (MVFW). “They are two elements composing the same story.”
Alex Lambert, creative director of content production studio Happy Finish, agrees. “Once you’re able to buy a virtual Chanel jacket and then wear that item in the real world, that’s when things will really start to change.” Turning that idea on its head, Philipp Plein is developing a way for consumers to “upgrade a physical purchase with its digital twin, for less than it would cost to buy the wearable alone.”
StockX, a multibillion-dollar sneaker and streetwear resale company, is also “bridging the physical and digital worlds.” Purchase an Air Jordan 4 Retro White Oreo NFT from StockX and you’ll get ownership of an actual pair of Air Jordan 4 Retro White Oreos too. The real shoes will be stored in a climate-controlled StockX facility until the buyer either wants them in hand or decides to resell both the NFT and the real shoes.
So, what does all this mean for sales tax? What happens when the sale of a digital good results in ownership of a physical good, or vice versa?