Picture this: a line of women sit outside of Target overnight in camping chairs. It looks something like the lines that form when fans camp out for a general admission concert. Is it Black Friday? Are they waiting for the release of the newest iPhone? Not quite.
Rather, these ladies are eagerly waiting to get their hands on the special Valentine’s Day limited edition Stanley cups. In fact, you don’t have to just imagine it, because plenty of TikTok users documented their parking lot camping retreats. This isn’t the first viral reusable cup to hit the market, with its predecessors being the Hydro Flask, the Yeti, and for some, the Owala. However, I’d say that the following this cup has amassed is unprecedented.
I will confess, I do own a (pastel pink) Stanley. I do really like it and I think having it on my desk makes me drink more water. However, as I’ve learned through social media, it’s not really a “one and done” kind of thing for many. Women post videos showing off their Stanley collections, which often quite literally forms an entire rainbow of colors. I’ve seen entire walls covered with Stanleys hung by their handles. Seeing this, I can’t help but wonder, how did we get here?
I’m not going to put myself on a pedestal and say I’m above hyperconsumerism; I most definitely am not. I love Sonny Angels, and I love buying cute little lip glosses (I’ll admit, many of which are very similar colors). Set me loose in an Ulta or a Daiso, and I will find something to buy.
That being said, the Stanley cup phenomenon has made me think about how the internet morphs our perceptions. We start to lose track of why we buy particular items, as we hunt for the newest and most hyped goods. A cup that is reusable and thus meant to reduce waste has spurred a phenomenon that feeds into even greater levels of consumerism. Similarly, I’m pulled into a trance when I see the Summer Fridays lip oil in Sephora, even though I already have at least three similarly colored glosses.
I think what I’m trying to say is that witnessing hyperconsumerism from an outsider’s point of view has made me think. It’s literally brands’ jobs to push products on you, to make you think you need them. In today’s age of social media, we’re being advertised to all the time (even when we don’t realize it).
Going forward, I hope to be better about evaluating when I really need something. I think we all owe it to our wallets, to the space in our closets and makeup bags, and to our minds. It’s cliché, but in a lot of cases, less really is more.