When was the last time you thought of Beanie Babies? How about Pokémon Cards? If I think hard enough, I think I can still remember the tight squeeze of a SillyBand against my wrist. A column of rainbow rubber once displayed along my forearms, comically taking the form of a lopsided dinosaur or ice cream cone. In third grade, a SillyBand was like a bar of gold. The classroom became a trading market as we secretly exchanged the bracelets under our desks, praying our teachers would not notice. And if your hands were turning purple from a lack of blood flow, then that meant you were doing something right. Back then, having the most meant being the best.  

 Now, almost 12 years later, I cannot remember the last time I saw a SillyBand. The things I once treasured, clinging to in hopes of a returned admired status, now lay synthetically intact in the soil of a landfill. Eventually, everything becomes a thing of the past.  

Beanie Babies are similar in their legacy. It was not until recently, after watching Beanie Mania, that I fully comprehended the small plushies worldwide takeover. Of course, happening in the 90s, Ty Inc’s prime occurred years before I was born. However, as I watched the documentary, discovering the consumer frauds and lawsuits, the fights, and big businessmen tactics, suddenly something as simple as a stuffed animal became an insight into human behavior. Why do we feel the need to collect things? Isn’t having one enough? 

Though years have passed, consumerism has only evolved. In the documentary, they discuss Ty’s business strategies, spanning from faux claims of liquidation to limited productions. Being the most prominent for its time, however, was the business’s ventures on the internet. So much so that Beanie Babies have even been regarded as the world’s first internet sensation. It was the first of its kind in advertisement; and as technology grows, so does the unavoidable encouragement towards consumption.  

On all social media apps, targeted advertisements have become the new normal. With every scroll, the threat of virtual enticement begs for the click of a finger. Alongside this, consumerism has become normalized in content. Uniquely enough, over the past year, trends on the internet have returned to their roots. “2026 is the new 2016” says the internet, and nostalgia is now the greatest selling advantage for brands across the world. Blind boxes and Labubus have become the new Beanie Babies. And recently, in a GameStop, I heard three separate customers walk in and ask about Pokémon cards. “Collecting” is officially back in style. 

As I speak on this topic, it is important to admit that I am not immune to this trend in overconsumption. I bought a Sonny Angel. And then I bought another one. Not because I needed it, but because I had stumbled upon a TikTok of a girl showing her collection and simply felt left out. It was like the SillyBandz all over again. The best always had the most. And for some reason, I had to be included.  

It is easy to recognize overconsumption as a problem, but truthfully, we all fall for the temporary dopamine boost. Looking a certain way or owning certain products has always been a societal conformity, and the internet only makes these expectations heavier. It is easy to fall for the falsity of needing the next best thing. However, by looking back on things once loved by millions, we recognize that popularity is only momentary. 

You do not need to buy that Stanley cup. You are still cool, I promise.