Every Trend Dies in 48 Hours: A Eulogy
Friends, family, and everyone who typed "lol so real" under a repost — we are gathered here today to remember a trend. It was born on a Monday, lived vibrantly for roughly two days, and passed peacefully on Thursday morning when a celebrity's dog did something slightly interesting and the algorithm simply... moved on.
It is survived by 14 million views, 400,000 duets, and one group chat that swore it would "keep the bit going" but did not.
It lived fast, as they all do
In its brief but luminous life, the trend accomplished so much. Hour one: discovery. Someone posts something and the comment section performs its sacred duty, declaring "this is going to be everywhere." Hour six: everywhere. Hour twelve: your aunt has seen it, which is how you know it's already in hospice. By hour twenty-four, brands have arrived — always three hours too late, always with a logo placed slightly wrong, like uninvited guests at a wedding who nonetheless demand a plus-one.
Hour thirty-six: the backlash begins. "Is anyone else tired of this?" is posted by someone who posted it yesterday. The discourse enters its ornate late period, in which the trend is no longer a trend but a cultural artifact to be debated, which is just fan fiction for sociology majors.
Hour forty-eight: silence. Not the dignified kind. The kind where the trending tab has simply stopped listing it, as if it were never there. The internet is not a library; it is a tide. It takes everything back.
What it leaves behind
Merch, mostly. Someone will order a mug. Someone else will find the mug in a thrift store in three years and feel a wave of nostalgia so specific it should be studied. "Oh man, remember when everything was that thing?" Yes. For about two days. Glorious days.
It also leaves behind the people who built entire personalities around it — the costume buyers, the profile-picture changers, the ones who updated their bios. They will need a moment. Let us give them one. They will also need a new trend, which the algorithm, in its infinite mercy, is already providing.
A few words from those who knew it best
The algorithm could not be reached for comment, as it is busy. A brand's social media manager issued a statement: "We had so much fun with this trend and we're so sad to see it go. Anyway here's our product next to a skeleton costume, it's Halloween in two months." A think-piece was published declaring the trend a referendum on modern attention spans; it was shared eleven times and read, generously, by half of those people.
The late trend's most devoted mourner, a content creator who tattooed its catchphrase on their forearm, has requested that all seating face away from them. "I was committed to the bit," they said — technically true, in the same way a parking ticket is technically mail. The tattoo remains. The bit does not. A moment of silence, please, for the tattoo artist, who was just doing their job.
In lieu of flowers
The family asks that in lieu of flowers, you please stop saying "it's giving." It was giving nothing. It gave nothing. That was the whole point — it was a vibe, and vibes are, by definition, unsustainable.
Let us take comfort in the cycle. Another trend is being born right now, in a teenager's bedroom, at this very moment. It will be massive. It will be inescapable. It will die in 48 hours. And we will be here, folding chairs and all, ready to say the words again.
Rest in peace, little fad. You were too beautiful for this world, and also too similar to the six fads that came before you.