Virality is having a moment, or rather, it is the moment. Remember when brands obsessed over product quality, packaging, and that elusive “brand love” metric? Now it feels like everyone’s chasing one thing: the algorithm. If it can’t go viral, is it even worth launching?
Virality used to be a happy accident. It came from sharp insight, cultural timing, and a touch of chaos. Somewhere along the way, it became the strategy. And that shift comes with trade-offs.
If you’ve seen one launch video lately, you’ve seen them all: cryptic teaser, creator reaction, a layer of scarcity, call it a drop, then hope TikTok eats it up. And to be fair, it works, at least initially.
Take Beis luggage. The Shay Mitchell–backed brand is a smart mix of practical and polished, but lately it’s leaned heavily into influencer-first tactics. From chaotic travel vlogs to “this bag changed my life” reviews, it’s everywhere. But it’s getting harder to separate product talk from performance. Does the carry-on glide through airports like butter, or have we just seen it enough times to assume it does? Familiarity is being mistaken for value.
Now consider Rhode, Hailey Bieber’s skincare line. The first drop was genius: dreamy branding, viral marketing, and a product that delivered. Virality and quality converged, and it worked – evidenced by its recent $1 billion acquisition. But even the strongest formulas need evolution. The playbook feels familiar, the energy’s there, but the surprise is wearing off.
The issue isn’t just saturation. It’s what happens when virality becomes the primary value proposition. Consumers aren’t engaging because the product solves a problem. They’re buying because everyone else is, or because they fear missing out. And let’s be honest, we’ve all added something to cart just to avoid FOMO (currently side-eyeing the Stanley cup in “sage green” at my desk).
That leads to a sugar crash effect. The high is fast and euphoric, then gone. What’s left? Half-used products and consumers wondering what the hype was about. Just out of curiosity, how many of you still care about putting Labubus on your bags?
What gets lost in the chase for hype is the slower, harder work of building real brand relationships, the kind that can’t be measured in shares or soundbites, but in trust and repeat purchases. When everything’s a moment, nothing becomes a memory. And no one builds loyalty off a product they can’t even remember a month later. The most enduring brands aren’t always trending. They’re simply present, consistent, and quietly building relevance over time.
Not everyone wants to chase the trend. A growing segment of consumers is opting out of what’s viral. They’re skeptical of constant drops and craving substance over spectacle. Case in point: The Ordinary. Their packaging is bland, their campaigns minimal, and yet they’ve built a cult following through transparency and ingredient-led education. No stunts. Just products that work. It’s the quiet luxury of skincare, where consistency beats flash.
This isn’t an anti-viral rant. Virality has its place. It can introduce new ideas, build massive awareness, and spark emotional connection in ways few other tools can. It works brilliantly for products tied to cultural moments, novelty, gifting, or strong visual language. When it’s earned, not forced, it can amplify relevance and even shape culture.
But when every brand borrows the same playbook, using the same creators, language, and scarcity tactics, we start confusing volume with impact. And we risk dulling the edge of a strategy that actually works when used with intention
Some brands are already adjusting. Fenty Beauty remains a benchmark, not just for going viral, but for building credibility through inclusive product development. UNIQLO stays relevant without the noise. Its collabs generate quiet hype because they’re thoughtful, not theatrical. IKEA continues to build love by staying clear and product-first. Even Patagonia goes viral without trying. From telling people not to buy their jackets to limiting co-branding on vests, the brand often holds back when marketing conflicts with its values. That restraint has become part of its power and the reason it still breaks through.
These brands prove you don’t need to chase every trend to stay relevant. The next wave of breakout brands might not be the loudest, just the most deliberate.
So yes, virality can drive product consideration. When it’s done right, it absolutely works. It gets people talking, buying, sharing. But not every product needs to launch like a sneaker drop. When every campaign follows the same formula, it stops feeling exciting and starts feeling like noise. That’s when fatigue sets in.
The challenge now isn’t whether virality works. It’s knowing when to use it, and when to let the product do the talking. Because at some point, even the most perfectly timed drop won’t save a product people don’t actually care about.
