A year everyone thought they were fashion-forward, but really, they were just forward in regret. From shoes that double as orthopedic experiments or something stolen from a bench’s favorite footballer, to little monsters dangling like cursed trinkets everyone willingly hung on their already tragic microbag, some trends just should’ve never seen the light. May 2026 be merciful to our closets.
Labubus
My brain refuses to process the number of purses those small, fuzzy, and suspiciously evil things managed to terrorize daily. I get bag charms, to an extent, but people calling those little guys cute and taking them everywhere? They look like they’re actively plotting against humanity, sorry. Still, this isn’t exactly new. A so-called statement piece attached to something women already love and proudly invest in, handbags. Add artificial scarcity, the thrill of the hunt, and the illusion of exclusivity, and suddenly the obsession makes sense. Marketing-wise, taste aside.
Cleats
Somewhere between street fashion and a locker room floor, cleated shoes had a moment. Aggressive soles and the illusion of functionality, in other words, uncomfortable and impractical. For a shoe designed for mud, grip, and speed, coffee runs seemed a little off, but that tension is exactly why it sold, and apparently, that’s all that matters. Slap a designer logo on something almost offensively sporty, label it “unexpected”, and watch common sense disappear.
Flip-Flops
As said, coffee runs scared me a bit from time to time this year, I saw cleats sharing a table with flip-flops. Not just thong straps, no, I wish. Actual, flat, Havaiana-level flip-flops. Performance footwear and beach basics, coexisting over an espresso like nothing was wrong. It’s painfully hard to justify, but some would say, easy to slip on, cheerful, beachy, cheap enough to impulse-buy, a tiny dose of escape. I wouldn’t, but I’m sure some would.
Micro bags
After a year spent carrying bags that could double as carry-on luggage, you’d think mini bags would be extinct. Yet somehow, they managed to survive. Tiny purses no bigger than a lipstick, holding nothing useful, okay, holding nothing. And still people insisted. What do they store? Their optimism? Maybe a lip balm too, perhaps even a single key if luck is on their side. But credit where it’s due, when attached as a charm to a normal bag, they gain a shred of logic.
Flower Claw Clips
Plastic’s best friend. The hair clip that had to be a flower. An oversized one. Colorful enough to give you permanent eye trauma. I really do believe that the intention was to transport you to a sunny, tropical beach in Hawaii. I also believe that they teleport you to a discount bin in Ohio, the kind of store where everything is one dollar, pretending to bottle up a breezy, beachy vacation, except it’s all synthetic, all staged, and nothing works together. But fashion made them a thing.
God help us this year.
