The Products You Don’t Need

The other day, my best friend sent me a link with zero context and just one line:

“WHAT is this.”

When I opened it, I thought I had landed on the page of a medieval torture device. But it was the Seamless Sculpt Face Wrap from Kim Kardashian’s brand SKIMS. This face wrap is a band of stretchy fabric that you're supposed to wear to bed. It’s made of something called “collagen yarns” and claims to lift your jawline overnight.

Naturally, I thought, “Who in their right mind would buy this?” But believe it or not, that product sold out in hours and now has a massive waitlist.

Does the product work? Probably not.

I mean, if looking like the Kardashians is your agenda, then a face wrap is not going to do you any favours. You need to get the number of their cosmetic surgeon. But this product wasn’t designed to solve a problem. It wasn’t designed to work. It was designed to convince us that we have a problem. And for the thousands of people that bought it, this plan worked.

When Did Almost Enough Become the Goal?

This face wrap didn’t go viral because of proven science. It went viral because of TikTok.

TikTok has been flooded with videos of the “morning shed.” It’s just people taking off all the things they slept in. Mouth tape, chin straps, humidifier masks, you name it. It’s part wellness routine and part entertainment.

It’s also a masterclass in manufactured need. It makes people believe that if they just add one more step to their routine, they’ll finally become the version of themselves that feels like enough.

So companies like SKIMS don’t need to sell a science-backed product.

They just need to sell the promise of waking up a little more perfect.

According to Retail Dive, 83% of the users say TikTok recommendations played a vital role in their purchasing decisions. Most made without proof that the product actually works.

Micro Bags and the Power of Ridiculousness

This isn’t new. Remember micro bags? The ones that barely fit a breath mint?

Jacquemus started it in 2017 with Le Chiquito and by 2019 it had been reduced to something you could wear on your finger. Like jewelry, but with ambition. 

People loved them. Dior and Chanel followed. And suddenly, impracticality became aspirational. People were ready to spend $1000+ on buying something that was just an ornament.

Because that’s the thing about these kinds of products: they don’t need to be useful. They just need to say something about you. Or better yet, they need to signal that you’ve transcended the need for practicality.

It wasn’t about what the bag held.

It was about what it said:

“I have enough. I am enough. I don’t need function. I have status.”

The Jacket I Tried to Replace

A few years ago, I walked into a Patagonia store with a fleece jacket that had a small tear near the seam. I was fully prepared to buy a new one.

Instead, the person at the register looked at the tag and said:

“We can repair this for you. It’ll cost about fifteen bucks.”

That’s it. No upsell. No “check out our latest drop.” Just an invitation to keep what I already had. That moment stuck with me. Because it felt like the opposite of what most brands try to do.

Patagonia wasn’t trying to convince me I was missing something.

They were helping me hold onto something I already loved.

Patagonia’s Repair Program repairs tens of thousands of garments every year because they want to design for longevity, not replacement.

When Hype Becomes Habit

But here’s the thing. We don’t always realise how easily products, especially the unnecessary ones, find their way into our lives.

I hate to admit it, but I have spent a lot of money on jewellery. The kind that is cheap but looks good. Just because I liked the way it looked on that model. But I’ve never been able to wear a piece more than once. Any time I’ve tried, it’s shed colour. Or stained my skin. Or both.

Because the reality is, most products are not designed to be good or functional.

They’re designed to catch you at just the right moment. When you’re a little tired, a little bored, a little unsure and offer you a quick fix for a feeling you didn’t know you were having.

And brands pump out so many of these in such high volumes that 10 to 40% of clothing made every year goes unsold.

That’s how much is made on speculation. 

That’s how much is made hoping someone, somewhere, will bite.

And sometimes we do.

Because we’re in a spiral. Because we want to feel seen. Because it’s easier to click “add to cart” than sit with the discomfort of feeling not quite enough.

What I’d Tell You If You Were My Best Friend

Honestly? I’ve bought the thing because I thought maybe I’d feel better if I had that. And I’ve ended up with drawers full of stuff I don’t actually use.

But I’ve learned that if a product was designed without much thought, it’ll show. It shows in how vague the problem sounds and how urgent the message feels.

So the next time you see something shiny that maybe talks to your insecurities, know that it probably is more gimmicky than useful.

And it won’t solve anything real.

Marketers have a name for this. It’s called “problem invention.” Create doubt. Sell the fix.

And if this hit a nerve? Send it to someone who understands the struggle.

Together, let’s romanticise slow shopping.

And if there’s a brand that actually makes you feel seen and not sold to. Tell me. I want to know!