“This [insert product] is so good I’ve had to buy another one.”
If you’re anywhere on social media, you’ve almost certainly heard this phrase more than once. From skincare, to cleaning products, to electrical goods, everything you could possibly need has never been more accessible. With a few taps, it arrives at your door. Convenient? Absolutely. But when ads are so seamlessly woven into the content we consume, it raises a bigger question: are we choosing what we buy, or are we being subtly guided into buying more than we ever actually need?
My thoughts on this really started while scrolling TikTok (I know—but in my defence, I’m only human). An ad for a “viral” pair of headphones came up, and the narrator said, without hesitation: “These headphones are so good I’ve had to buy myself a second pair.”
For some reason, that line stuck with me.
Headphones… so good you need two pairs? Why? You don’t have two heads. You can’t wear more than one pair at a time. They’re designed to be portable. The logic just doesn’t hold up.
And that’s exactly the point.
The statement isn’t meant to be logical—it’s meant to be persuasive. It reframes excess as enthusiasm. Buying something twice isn’t positioned as unnecessary, but as proof of how good it is. Somewhere along the way, “I want this” has quietly replaced “I need this,” and social media has accelerated that shift.
You can see this most clearly in industries like fast fashion. Trends now move at a pace that feels almost impossible to keep up with. A top you bought a month ago can already feel “outdated” after a few scrolls through your feed. Influencers post “hauls” with dozens of items at a time—clothes worn once, sometimes never again—normalising the idea that more is always better. The result? Wardrobes full of options, yet somehow nothing feels like enough.
The same pattern shows up in tech. Every year, a new phone, a new smartwatch, a slightly improved version of something you already own is released and immediately marketed as essential. The differences are often minimal, but the messaging is powerful: this is newer, better, faster—you should upgrade. And so people do, not necessarily because their current device no longer works, but because they’ve been convinced it’s no longer good enough.
But the impact of this constant cycle of buying doesn’t stop at our bank accounts or our overflowing wardrobes—it extends far beyond that.
Fast fashion is one of the largest contributors to environmental damage, responsible for huge amounts of waste, water consumption, and carbon emissions. Many of the clothes bought in online “hauls” are worn only a handful of times before being discarded, often ending up in landfill. What feels like a quick, harmless purchase in the moment contributes to a much larger, long-term problem.
Tech tells a similar story. Frequent upgrades mean perfectly functional devices are replaced and discarded at an increasing rate, contributing to the growing issue of electronic waste. These devices aren’t just plastic and glass—they contain valuable and finite resources, many of which are difficult to recycle. The more we upgrade out of habit rather than necessity, the more pressure we place on already strained environmental systems.
And yet, social media rarely shows this side of the story.
It shows the unboxing, the excitement, the “must-have” moment—but not the afterlife of those products. Not the landfill. Not the waste. Not the environmental cost of constantly producing, shipping, and replacing.
That’s what makes this cycle so effective—and so dangerous. It disconnects consumption from consequence.
Of course, convenience isn’t the enemy. Being able to easily access products that improve your life is, in many ways, a privilege. But there’s a difference between convenience and excess—and social media has a way of blurring that line until it’s almost invisible.
What’s worrying isn’t just the volume of products being promoted, but the mindset it encourages. When everything is framed as a “must-have,” or "a limited time deal" the concept of “enough” starts to disappear—not just for us as individuals, but in the way we collectively consume as a society.
So, is social media driving us into an age of overconsumption? It might not be the sole cause—but it’s certainly a powerful influence, one that doesn’t just shape what we buy, but how often, how quickly, and how thoughtlessly we replace it.
And maybe the more important question is this: in a world where we’re constantly told to want more, can we afford—not just financially, but environmentally—to keep listening?
Because perhaps the real shift isn’t in what we’re being sold—but in how we choose to respond to it.
This year, I’ve been trying to push back against that mindset in a small, personal way. I’ve set myself a rule: I don’t replace a product until I’ve completely used up what I already have. And if something doesn’t work for me—rather than letting it gather dust at the back of a drawer or on a vanity—I make a point of finding it a new home with someone who might actually use and enjoy it.
It’s not a perfect solution, and it won’t change the system overnight. But it does change how I think. It forces me to pause, to question, and to be more intentional with what I buy.
Maybe that’s where it starts.
Buy less. Choose better. And, every so often, ask yourself if you needed it in the first place.